#look they call the shots i just work here

[aureatelys]

can't lose when i'm with you

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 7k a/n: happy valentines day! this idea came to me as a joke but then i couldnt stop thinking about it. also i know nothing about golf or country clubs so sorry in advance if i got anything wrong.

summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.

content warnings: 18+ MDNI PLEASE, dbf!hotch so age gap, kinda flirty!reader, porn with no plot, dry humping on a golf cart yessir, semi public sex, m masturbation, some dirty talk, men (not hotch) being gross and touchy

read below or here on ao3 here <3

You’ve been working as a beverage cart girl at your dad’s country club for the past several months to save money for school. At first, the bluntness of some of these older men flirting with you caught you off guard, but after you got your first $100 tip just from serving a group of three men a couple of beers and flashed them a smile, you were hooked. Flirting was part of the job, which became easier and easier for you the more shifts you took.

After all, it was easy money—refilling the drinks in the coolers, driving around a well-kept golf course while underneath the shade of the cart, and handing out drinks with a little smile and a hair flip. Sometimes, you even sat nearby and cheered Ted on as he hobbled over to take his shot.

You even got to add some personal touches to your beloved cart—a pink fuzzy steering wheel cover, a blush pink sheet covering the leather seats so your thighs would stop sticking to them, a pillow in the shape of a heart for your back, and a cute miniature disco ball hanging from the roof because old people love to pretend like they can party again.

And the men weren’t too bad. You’ve had a few run ins with some on the handsier side, or ones that straight up asked to have sex with you, but luckily your manager dealt a swift and heavy hand and you never saw them again. Otherwise, the customers were mostly decent, as long as you were okay with some heavy flirting and generous eye-fucking.

It’s a typical busy Saturday when you meet Aaron.

You knew your dad was having some sort of “business meeting” with the highly decorated FBI agent he’s been recently obsessed and hanging out with, and he knew that you were mentioned the most in the country club’s Google reviews. He wanted you to put him in a good mood, which was basically in your job description. You didn’t mind since your father promised a hefty tip for you at the end.

You spot them a few yards away—your father’s lucky red hat, muted in color due to wear and tear, and another man nearly a foot taller standing near him. You call out for them and speed your way there in your rickety little cart when your dad waves to you.

When you pull up next to them, it looks like they’ve just finished Hole 2, which means this would be absolute prime time for you if they were typical customers.

“Hey boys,” you call out. You’re about to ask them if they’re thirsty when you get a good look at your dad’s friend.

He’s tall, almost outrageously so with how far you have to crane your neck to look at him. He’s also ridiculously handsome; strong brows, intense eyes, and floppy hair that looked so soft you craved running your hands through them. Wide shoulders, thick arms, and a little soft around the middle in a way that made something flutter in your stomach.

He was definitely not your typical customer.

“Hey sweetie!” Your dad comes to give you a kiss on the top of your head. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

He’s such a good actor, you think as you beam up at him. “And I didn’t know you were going golfing today. You guys thirsty?”

“Absolutely! I’ll take a beer, how about you, Aaron?”

“A water is fine.” Christ, even his voice is hot—low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You make your way to the cooler in the back, squinting as soon as you’re out from the shade and into the blazing sun. “A beer and a water for my two most handsome guys coming right up!”

As always, your dad laughs, but when you peek a glance out of the corner of your eye from where you’re bent over, half of your body basically in the cooler as you fish out a water bottle, Aaron was wearing an obviously practiced neutral expression.

You finally find the bottle, your hand nearly going numb from how much ice you had to dig through, and hand it to Aaron with a grin. “Here you go.”

He meets your gaze and you’re drawn to the pretty brown sugar shade of his eyes. “Thank you.” He’s polite, not even a smile gracing his lips before he’s twisting the cap off and tipping his head back to take a long swig.

You swear your throat goes dry at the tantalizingly long line of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You’re able to get a closer look at him this way— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the tight red polo was stretching over his broad shoulders, and the way his hands were so large it made the water bottle look almost comically small.

Your father’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Aaron, this is my daughter. Sweetie, this is Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the BAU I told you about?”

Boy, have you heard about him—your dad hasn’t shut up about him over the past month, talking about how he’s such a great guy, how he’s been at the Bureau for over a decade, and how he’s been bragging about his golfing skills and that the two of them just had to play some time.

You don’t exactly remember what today’s meeting was about, something about implementing a new training program to his agents? Either way, he had hoped you would use your spectacular customer service to help his odds, but you’re sure he wasn’t hoping for you to have the thoughts you were currently having that involved his hands on your hips and your mouth pressed against his throat.

A ringtone blares, nearly making you jump, and you watch as your father steps away to take a call.

You put on your best customer service smile and put your hand out, pink nails glinting underneath the sun. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Something quirks at the corner of Aaron’s mouth as he puts his hand in yours. You try not to pay attention to how his hand nearly dwarfs yours or how you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers. “You as well.”

“Unit chief, huh?” you ask, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. “I bet that’s a really stressful job. You should come visit me more. To de-stress.”

And it’s like Aaron’s face transforms into something softer, younger. You watch in delight as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth twisting in an effort to hide an amused smile. “Should I now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, leaning your hip against your cart. You’re suddenly glad you wore your shortest tennis skirt and sleeveless top that emphasized your cleavage quite well today. “I��m here almost every day and we close at 6.”

His body turns towards you, stepping in closer. You think you catch the faintest whiff of his woodsy cologne, breaking through the freshly cut grass smell. “Is that why your dad was so adamant about going golfing today? So his daughter could flirt his way into me approving his training curriculum?”

An incredulous laugh nearly bubbles out of you at his instant ability to read through you despite only knowing each other less than 5 minutes. You assume he’s the unit chief for a reason.

“Is it working?”

He says nothing for a moment, just looking you up and down in a way that made you want to shift, though not uncomfortably. He studies you and your pristine white sneakers, the hem of your tennis skirt brushing against the warm expanse of your thighs, and your hair in a high ponytail. He glances at the cannisters of edible glitter and mini umbrellas on your bev cart. You see his eyes dance with amusement when he notices the mini disco ball swinging from your roof.

When he looks back at you, eyebrows relaxed, the professional flat line of his mouth was gone and instead replaced with something more private. “Yes.”

Excitement settles in your chest, light and golden. You feel your face flush out of your own accord and hope you can blame the summer sun beating down on you and not your father’s coworker, no more than 20 years older than you, flirting with you.

Your father suddenly appears right around Aaron’s shoulder, always with impeccable timing. He looks just as flushed as you feel, sweat building at his hairline while Aaron looks impossibly dry despite the humidity. “Ready to move onto the next hole, Hotch?”

And just like that, Aaron’s face smoothly changes to polite professionalism and not like you were seconds away from throwing your arms around his neck. He nods and gives you a courteous smile, something playful tugging at his lips. “It was nice to meet you.”

When your father fishes through his wallet to pay for the drinks, and hopefully your tip as well, Aaron lays a hand over his before he’s pulling out his own from his back pocket. “I got it,” he says, before handing you two crisp $100 bills.

“Oh,” you say before you could help yourself. And because it’s Aaron, whom you’ve never met before and not like your other customers, you didn’t feel quite comfortable in taking his money. Yet. “This more than pays for the drinks…”

He shakes his head and pushes the money towards you. “I know.”

You take his money, solely because you don’t want to cause a scene when your father was already stuttering over himself in an attempt to still cover the bill himself. You notice how thick his fingers are over the folded bills and ignore the warmth tingling up your spine when your fingers brush against his.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You don’t miss the way his eyes barely narrow at the sound of his name from your lips or the imperceptible clench of his hand at his side.

You try to hide the smirk threatening to show on your face when you get back into your cart, your silly keychains hanging from the ignition clinking with the action. You put your cart in drive and look over your shoulder at Aaron, your father’s attention already enraptured by the phone in his hand.

“See you around, handsome.”

You think you see a faint hint of pink at the tips of Aaron’s ears before you drive away.

-

You don’t see Aaron for several weeks.

You try not to let it bother you, starting to come to terms with the possibility that he just wasn’t interested in you or that you were too young and juvenile for him. So what if you’ve been picking up more shifts lately, just in case he decided to show up? Or spending your entire paycheck on cute outfits that hug you in all the right places? That isn’t anyone else’s business except yours.

So it’s totally because you’ve been bored all day when you let out a squeak of excitement at the text you get from your dad letting you know that him and Aaron were on their way to the country club.

It’s a slow Thursday afternoon, which means the men that do show up to play, clearly avoiding their wives, believe they can keep you around at their beck and call. A group of 3 older gentlemen who were somewhat regulars had asked you to drive them around in your golf cart despite regulations not allowing customers to catch a ride, but they’ve already racked up hundreds of dollars in drinks, so you’re sure your boss wouldn’t mind.

They’re also a little touchy, wanting to teach you how to play so they have an excuse to put their hands on your hips and not so subtly cop a feel, but their usual tips at the end of the day easily pays for half of your rent. So, you play along by flipping your hair over your shoulder a bit, maybe even acting a little ditsy when they talk about golf as if your dad hadn’t thrown you in lessons as soon as you were able to hold a club.

That’s why you’ve been sitting behind your wheel entertaining grandpa for the past 30 minutes, his friends actually focused on the game, as he rattles on about his ex-wife, how he’s currently looking for a younger girl to take out, and the best way to move your hips when you shoot.

“If you stand up, I can show you how,” he says hoarsely, standing so closely you can smell not only the acrid scent of beer that he’s been sipping on but also the general musty smell of old people you’ve unfortunately become familiar with.

You fake a laugh, even playing it up by leaning forward and patting his wrinkled hand from where it’s inching closer and closer to you on the headrest. “Oh, Jerry, I don’t think we have time for that. I have to make my rounds.”

When you spot Aaron and your father driving over the hill, the rattle of the shitty golf carts a familiar tune, you immediately lock gazes with him. It’s like watching a movie in slow motion the way you’re able to discern when Aaron notices the older man’s close proximity and your clear uncomfortable posture— his eyebrows drawing up in barely concealed shock before knitting in concern, eyes narrowing.

You let out a breathless laugh at the silent rage, plain as day, before scooting out through the other side of the cart and away from Jerry and his beady eyes.

“Where you going, hot stuff?” Ew.

You put on your sweet customer service smile, often used to placate the rowdier men, before you brush away imaginary dust and start throwing away the trash left on your cart. “Jerry! I still have to do my job!”

You’re relieved when Jerry finally takes the hint and shuffles away towards his golf bag that he left near the teeing area just as Aaron and your father pull up next to you with a screech, giving you a slight breeze. When Aaron steps out of the cart, the most mundane action in the world, he looks unfairly attractive. You stare at the slight flex of his biceps when he holds onto the roof of the cart before tearing yourself away and turning towards your dad.

“How are my two favorite guys?” you tease, giving your dad a hug when he opens his arms out.

“I don’t know about Hotch but I’m ready to kick his ass,” your dad laughs, patting Aaron’s back like they’re suddenly best friends. Which is almost true, seeing as how your dad has somehow become even more obsessed with him, having not stopped talking about losing to him several weeks ago and has evidently somehow roped him into another day on the course.

“Well, I don’t think I should choose sides,” you giggle and glance at Aaron. He’s squinting at you, as if you’re speaking a completely different language, his expression still strained and posture tense.  

You smile at him and give him a cheery little wave. “Hi Aaron.”

“Hi,” he says slowly, shoulders slowly relaxing, and hearing his voice makes you breathless all over again. “Are you okay?”

And it’s sweet, the obvious way Aaron is checking in on you as if you don’t do this every day. Truthfully, you’re used to it and it’s not like the men take it too far. You’re more focused on the fact that this is your second time meeting Aaron and he’s already concerned about your wellbeing and personal space like the true gentleman he is.  

You almost want to tease, poke fun at him, but then you remember your father standing mere inches away who probably wouldn’t like you flirting so unabashedly with his friend/coworker.

Instead, you roll your eyes and head towards your cart. “I’m fine. So, what can I get for you, handsome?”

You’re pulling up the POS on your iPad when you notice Aaron hasn’t answered yet. You turn to lean your hip against your cart, meeting his gaze steadily from where he’s studying you.

You decide to blatantly look him up and down— drinking in the fitted dark green polo, showing off the veins decorating his forearms, and black slacks, making him appear taller and hanging enticingly low on his hips. His hair is tousled from the wind and you notice some gray dusting at his sideburns. And then there’s something about the Rolex on his wrist, God, he’s so hot.

Aaron notices you checking him out, because of course he does. His eyes barely flicker down your body, not quite taking the same liberty as you, but you feel want curling in your stomach when he licks his lips.

“A gin and tonic sounds great, sweetie,” your father says, once again interrupting your thoughts, before he’s immediately launching into a ramble regarding what you assume is some office gossip.

“A water is fine,” Aaron says in between your dad’s breaths. He gives you a sheepish little twitch of the mouth that you shouldn’t find so endearing before he turns to give your dad his full attention.

You make your dad’s drink, the motions automatic and familiar, before you’re opening the cooler and bending over to reach a water bottle at the very bottom. You weren’t really doing it on purpose this time, too focused on getting the coldest bottle at the bottom of the cooler for him, but you still feel a thrill run up your spine when you hear a choked cough behind you.

At least you chose a skort today and not a skirt, though you’re sure it still doesn’t leave much room for the imagination with its flimsy white fabric.

A smirk tugs at your lips, hidden by the cooler, before you turn around with a polite smile and drinks in your hands. Maybe you weren’t wrong about being too juvenile for Aaron after all. “Here you guys are.”

When Aaron’s fingers brush against yours, something hot twists itself into your stomach and settles in between your thighs. You meet his gaze and notice his eyes, dark and almost predatory, pupils nearly completely blown.

You distantly hear your name being called through the blood rushing in your ears. When you break from the hold Aaron’s stare has on you and turn to where the sound came from, you spot Jerry still standing near his golf bag. He and his friends evidently still haven’t taken their shots and moved on yet, instead beckoning you over with a wave as if you were some bumbling waitress.

“Well, duty calls,” you feign a sigh. When you turn back around, Aaron’s wearing an almost petulant frown as he watches Jerry continue calling for you.

“We’ll see you around, pumpkin,” your dad says before slapping a $50 dollar bill in your hand, tutting at Aaron when he starts to pull out his wallet. “Let’s get a move on.”

And then he’s walking away, once again leaving you and Aaron alone.

You move to clean up your cart from where you made your drink, expecting Aaron to silently follow your father and not seeing him for several weeks again. You’re pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little smug, when you hear Aaron clear his throat, as if unsure what to say. And wouldn’t that be something—causing a unit chief of the FBI to hesitate.

“You get off at 6, right?”

A lazy grin blooms across your face as you meet Aaron’s eyes. He appears composed, stoic, but you can see the uncertainty swimming in his eyes, the frown still tugging at his lips as if he can’t get the thought of you with Jerry off his mind. He’s rubbing his thumb across his fingers and you wonder how it would feel on the bare skin of your hips.

“I sure do,” you chirp. “I’ll see you then?”

You can tell that Aaron wasn’t expecting you to give him another chance at backing out. His eyebrows raise in surprise, similarly to how they did when he first met you, like he thought he had you all figured out.

“See you then.”

-

Although you’re stuck with Jerry and his friends for the next 3 hours, you can feel the heavy weight of Aaron’s watchful eyes on your back the entire time. There were even several moments where you thought he was going to burn a hole in the back of your head, or especially Jerry’s, every time he put his clammy hands on yours to help you with a swing or at the small of your back.

And so what if you played it up a little, knowing that you barely knew Aaron but you were already digging your way under his skin?

Knowing Aaron was only several yards away, you laughed extra hard at Jerry’s jokes and bent over a little more every time you set the ball on the tee. It was exhilarating, playful in a way you’ve never felt before. You couldn’t deny that noticing the carnal way Aaron reacted to you, how he stared at you like he wanted to eat you alive, didn’t get you all hot and bothered. You’re sure the wetness between your legs was proof enough.

By the time 6 o’clock finally rolls around and you’re pulling up to the extra storage shed at the back of the country club, your wallet has grown a couple hundred dollars more and your cart’s glove box has gained a couple more slips of paper with phone numbers to gather dust in.

You’ve just finished unloading your cart and cleaning out your shelves when you hear another cart pulling up behind you. When you turn and realize that it’s Aaron, that he actually showed up, you feel giddy in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

“Hey you,” you say over the stack of crates you’re trying to organize. “Let me finish up real quick and then we can go.” Go where, you have no idea, but you’re sure the two of you will figure it out.

“Do you need any help?” he asks, standing so close to you now you can get a full whiff of his cologne. It’s something woodsy and warm that settles comfortably in your chest.

Any other day, you would’ve taken up his offer if only as an excuse to see him lifting crates of drinks and drooling over the way his arms would surely nearly burst out of his sleeves, but you’re honestly almost done and ready to get the hell out of here. “I’m almost done, I promise. But next time you can help so you can show off.”

Aaron immediately rolls his eyes, but you watch with glee as something quirks at the corner of his lips. “Yes, I sat in my car in the parking lot and waited for you just to show off.”

Damn, he is so cute when he’s actually making jokes with you.

You put away all of the cleaning products and lock the door before you’re stepping out to stand in front of Aaron where he’s hovering near your cart.

When you crane your neck to look up at him, you’re suddenly aware of how alone the two of you are, tucked away in a secluded area at the back of the country club where only employees have access to. The two of you are surrounded by trees, thankfully shielding you from the sun, and there’s only one path in and out of the area. The near constant drone of cicadas would be almost annoying if your attention wasn’t all focused on Aaron.

“So, why did you wait for me then?”

And just like that, Aaron’s eyes darken and he clenches his jaw. Now that there was nobody else around, teasing him almost felt like you were poking at a grumpy bear. A cute and very hot bear, but a bear, nonetheless.

“So I can do this.”

And then he’s placing a gentle hand on your waist, hot despite your already sun-kissed skin, and leaning in slowly, as if giving you the chance to back out in case he was reading your signals wrong.

You don’t think you could’ve laid it on thicker, so you meet him halfway to finally press your mouths together.

His lips are soft and he smells like sunscreen, and the way he kisses you is so tender it makes your chest tighten just a little. But it’s not enough.

You step closer into him, throwing your arms around his neck, and deepen the kiss. You catch him by surprise, detecting the exasperated smile against your mouth, but then his hand tightens its grip on your hip and he’s pulling you until you’re pressed flushed up against him.

You can feel the muscles in his chest and the softness of his stomach this way, and it’s so fucking delicious you can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth and into his.

It’s like a dam breaks loose because Aaron groans into your mouth, now causing you to smile, and then he’s spinning you around until he’s sitting in your golf cart and you’re planted right on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and the steering wheel digging into the small of your back.

You gasp in surprise, nearly dizzy with the action, but it melts into a breathy moan when Aaron’s hands run all over you—down your back, your hips, the flesh of your thighs, and then grabbing onto your ass so hard it just pushes you further into his lap. The barely there friction of his belt buckle against your pussy from the movement has you rolling your eyes back into your head, causing you to cant your hips forward again to chase the sharp pleasure twisting in your stomach.

“You’re so,” he mutters under his breath, face tucked between your breasts as he attempts to press open-mouthed kisses against the skin exposed by your black work polo. “Pretty.”

Then he’s lifting up your shirt until it gathers underneath your arms, just enough so he can move the band of your sports bra up so he could put his warm, wet mouth on the underside of your breasts. You know you must smell like sweat and sunscreen, your clothes still sticking to you, but that seems to just spur Aaron on as he moves up to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue.

“Aaron…” you exhale, pushing your chest into him to chase the wet heat of his mouth as he continues alternating sucking and licking at your nipples, hardening nearly immediately under him. It feels so fucking divine, you don’t think having your nipples played with has ever felt this good. You don’t even want to think about where else he can use his mouth. “Not here…”

He pulls back from your breasts and you’re mesmerized by the spit-slick shine of his lips as he meets your gaze from below you. His hands immediately come to replace his mouth, initially groping at you until thick fingers are grazing over your nipples before gently pinching. “There’s a banquet going on at the front of the club so no one’s coming back here.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent a whimper at the hot pleasure-pain from your breasts, your own hands coming up to tug at the damp hair on the back of his neck. Aaron groans at that, a sound coming deep from within his chest, and he jerkily thrusts his hips up as if they moved of their own accord.

You can feel the line of his hard cock against your inner thigh, so close to where you desperately want him, and your patience wanes thin for just a moment. Of course Aaron checked out the club first before coming back to meet you, as if he was planning on ambushing you behind the country club the entire time.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Aaron says, voice tight as if he was holding himself back from taking you right there on your golf cart with the fuzzy pink blanket on the seat and fairy lights hanging from the dashboard.

You’re tempted take him up on his offer and stop; climbing off his lap and inviting him back to your apartment so you can moan and scream all you want in your very comfortable bed, because Aaron seems like the type of man to want to hear every single noise.

But the thought of both of you being so desperate that you can’t help but rut against each other behind a fancy country club, where you’re at risk of anyone walking around the building and finding you? With your shirt rolled up and Aaron’s fingers nearly pressing bruises against your hips? You really should not find that as intoxicating and hot as you do.

It’s going to be uncomfortable, with the summer sun just barely moving to set over the horizon and your golf cart sometimes being too small even for you. You feel sweat already forming on your upper lip and hair sticking to your neck, internally hitting yourself for not buying that $5 fan that mounts on your dash.

Yet, as you look down at Aaron from where he’s propped his chin on your chest to meet your gaze, somehow looking both cute and ridiculously hot, you knew you couldn’t back out.

“Okay,” you whisper, grinning down at him before your fingers intertwine with his hair again to lean his head back and kiss him.

You think Aaron chuckles but you’re already swallowing it, shuffling somehow closer until the entire line of your body is against his. The top of your head keeps bumping into the roof of the cart and your thighs are already burning from the uncomfortable position of sitting up, but just then you angle your hips differently when you drop down and his bulge rubs against your clit in a way that has you sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, you’d look so pretty riding on my cock,” Aaron breathes against your lips, the grip he has on your waist tightening as he starts to move you up and down on his lap. “I bet you’re so wet for me.”

His left hand trails down your thigh, moving inward, and you squirm when you feel his thick fingers pressing against your cunt, wetness already seeping through your panties and the shorts of your tennis skirt. He briefly rubs through down your slit, spreading the wetness around and causing the fabric to cling to you.

“Is this all for me, pretty girl?” he murmurs, not even giving you the chance to answer before he’s moving the fabric aside to press his hot fingers against your soaked cunt.

You let out a long moan at finally being touched, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable. You try to angle your hips in an effort to get more of his fingers on you, maybe even inside of you, but Aaron annoyingly avoids your hole and instead intently traces them gently through your folds before moving up to rub circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, eyes nearly fluttering shut and your thighs trembling as the tight coil in the pit of your stomach builds so fast it knocks the breath out of you.

Aaron hums. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, at a loss for words as you chase the building pressure. He rubs your clit agonizingly slow, like he wants to prolong this as he intently studies your reactions.

You’re about to beg him to hurry up when he stops and removes his fingers from underneath your skirt. Your breath stutters at the loss of sensation until you notice Aaron holding his hand up to eye-level.

His thick fingers are obscenely drenched in your wetness, nearly glistening. You should feel embarrassed, that you’re so horny for him that you’re getting off at the possibility of being caught, but you don’t. In fact, noticing just how much Aaron is enjoying you enjoying yourself makes you feel even more flushed, more needy.

You lean in to bring his two fingers into your open mouth, swirling your tongue around the rough callouses as your own musky taste infiltrates your senses.

When you look down to meet his eyes, yours no doubt glossed over, he nearly growls as he yanks his fingers out of your mouth and kisses you, tongue prodding against yours. You feel a rumble from his chest as he chases the taste of your pussy in your mouth.

When he pulls back, he has a wild look in his eyes that does nothing to quell the fire in your stomach and the growing ache in your pussy. He runs his hands up and down your sides, nearly reverent, before thrusting his hips up so his cock presses against you. “Do you think you can come like this?”

Honestly, you think you could come in 30 seconds, with the way he grabs and moves your hips so deliciously you swear you could feel every inch of him, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you were giving him the time of day.

“Yes,” you breath, and then Aaron is giving you a wicked grin, something dangerous in his eyes.

He moves you until you’re fully seated on his lap, giving your knees a break, and then moving you back and forth against his cock, the drag of his slacks against the fabric of your shorts rubbing deliciously against your clit, causing you to nearly choke on your own saliva.

You rest your forehead against his, both of you panting, as you start grinding against him. Even through the several layers of fabric, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing in between your cunt and against your clit. You nearly feel dizzy, like the heat was getting to you, as your hands scramble to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

“Just like that, honey,” Aaron pants as you watch a droplet of sweat run down the side of his face through half-lidded eyes. “Make yourself come just like that.”

You’re shamelessly whimpering in between your moans now as you grind against him faster, the tightness in your core growing at the lewdness of his words. Aaron just lets you rut against him, essentially sitting still besides his hands on your hips helping you move back and forth. You feel the stickiness on your inner thighs, a mixture of sweat and your arousal, and you bet if you glanced down, there’d be a wet spot on his slacks. That image in your head sends you reeling and nearly over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

“Come on, sweetie.” Fuck, even the low tone of his voice adds to it, the raspiness giving away how just as equally turned on he was. Your chest is heaving, thighs trembling, and you’re so fucking close. “I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy later, make you come, over and over on my cock.”

Aaron rolls his hips then, and the new angle has the head of his cock pressing against your clit just so that has you gasping, back arching, and you finally fall over the edge as your orgasm hits you like a fucking train.

Your breath is knocked out of your chest, your eyes squeezing shut as you desperately chase the feeling of his cock against your clit as your clench around nothing. You distantly feel Aaron still grinding your hips back and forth as you ride it out, the tight hold he has on your hips just adding to your bliss. The repeated motions eventually become overstimulating, almost too much, but it deliciously adds to your aftershocks and causes you to release a choked whimper.

When you blearily blink your eyes open, Aaron is staring at you like he’s drinking you up, memorizing every little detail about you. The hair at his forehead is curling from the sweat and his face is tinged pink, but his eyes are a pretty molten brown and there’s something soft tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey handsome,” you say breathlessly, giving him a weary smile as you bring your hand up to wipe away the sweat on your own forehead. When you purse your lips, Aaron huffs a laugh and immediately leans in to give you a chaste kiss that does nothing to calm your racing heart.

You feel Aaron languidly move his hips up against you, making you hum against his mouth. When you look down, not only do you see the line of his cock where he’s still impossibly hard, but also a barely visible wet spot on his black slacks. From you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, embarrassment burning hot on your ears.

“I’m not,” Aaron says before his hands come down to swiftly unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and briefs until his cock springs free.

Your mouth instantly waters because fuck, is he big. He’s thick, a drop of precum beading at the slit with a delicious-looking prominent vein that runs on the underside that you can see when he wraps his left hand around his cock and starts jerking himself off.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, your hands twitching from where they’re still on top of his shoulders and eyes zeroing in on his large hand on his cock.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he huffs. “I’m close, just sit there and look pretty.”

You think your brain short circuits, because no way is this man not only okay with you rutting up on him, but also got close enough to coming from watching you come? And now he doesn’t even want you to touch him, he’s okay with just looking at you as he gets himself off?

Your heart thumps erratically because Aaron looks like the absolute definition of sin; hair slightly damp and tousled, his bicep flexing from where he’s erratically jerking himself off, and his chest heaving deliciously. His lips are parted and he’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, your shirt still bunched under your arms and exposing your breasts and your aching thighs wrapped around him.

You lean back against the steering wheel, ignoring how it digs harder into your back, as you decide to flip up your skirt until your clothed cunt is exposed. The piece of fabric is nearly see-through with how wet you are, and you bite your lip when you bring a hand down to move the fabric aside and angle your hips up until your bare pussy was exposed.

Aaron lets out a strangled noise, and you watch in awe as his hand around his cock pumps faster until it’s nearly a blur. You look up to see his eyes trained on your pussy, wet and puffy. The squelching of him fucking into his own hand, so turned on that he was steadily leaking precum from the slit of his cock was so fucking filthy that you felt the beginning sparks of arousal tugging in your abdomen again.

“Are you going to come all over my pussy?” you whisper.

Aaron suddenly lets out a deep and guttural groan, his breath stuttering and hand stilling, before he comes with his head thrown back. You watch, mesmerized, as hot spurts of his come land on your bare pussy, some even catching on your folds as you clench around nothing.

It’s so fucking hot, he’s so fucking hot.

It’s silent while you both catch your breath, the mindless chirping of birds dwindling down as the sun finally starts to set and the air begins to slightly cool.

You pull your shirt down before you lean over to reach for the tissues you usually keep in your purse on the floor. The way you have to twist your body while still on Aaron’s lap is uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he helps you sit back up with hands on your sides.

He wordlessly takes the pack of tissues from your hand to clean you up. He’s meticulous, eyebrows almost comically furrowed in concentration as he makes sure you’re presentable again. When he’s done, he looks around for a trash can and, upon not finding one, he stuffs the tissues in his pocket. You give him a teasing disgusted look, to which Aaron responds by rolling his eyes.

When you climb off his lap with a groan, your hips and knees pop. You stretch your back out a bit by twisting your body back and forth and notice Aaron getting up as well, watching you with a confused, yet fond, expression.

“You’re too young for your body to crack like that.”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, grandpa.”

You’re suddenly being pulled into Aaron’s embrace with a squeal, an arm snaking around your waist, instinctively putting your hands up on his chest as you steady yourself.

“I think I’ve more than shown you that I’m not a grandpa,” he mutters, lowly and directly in your ear, making you nearly swoon against him.

You clear your throat, using him as leverage to push back at him until you’re able to meet his eyes. “Well, not-grandpa, would you be able to wash my cart blanket? Since it was your idea to dirty it up.”

You can tell Aaron is holding himself back from rolling his eyes again. Instead, he chuckles, letting you go so he could grab the fuzzy pink blanket that is actually most likely devoid of any suspicious stains.

“Can I ride in your car?” you ask, giving him a shy smile. “So I can… see how efficient your washer and dryer is? The material for that blanket is very expensive, you know.” Never mind the fact that you got it from Target nor the fact that you drove yourself to the country club.

Aaron obviously sees right through you, not bothering to hold back a soft laugh. Witnessing him joking with you, his guard down, has your heart thumping just a little bit harder.

He stretches his hand out to you, palm up. “Come on, let’s go inspect my house appliances then.”

You place your hand in his, silently giggling to yourself when you notice how large his hand looks compared to yours, and sidle up next to him despite both of you still damp with sweat.

“Let’s go, hot grandpa.”

The laugh that Aaron lets out, soft and sweet, makes you so grateful to your dad for getting you this job.

taglist <3 @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover lmk if you would like to be added!

[luvoooenha]

Lucky charm!

Pairing- Boyfriend! Jake x Girlfriend! Y/N

Summary- Jake, the top soccer player at UNI, always relied on Y/N’s support—until a huge argument left him distracted before a big game. Without her in the stands, he struggled to play, missing shots and worrying his team. Realizing how much he needed her, a teammate called Y/N, who debated but ultimately showed up, looking her best. The moment Jake saw her, his focus returned, and he played like himself again. After the game, they made up, proving that Y/N was truly his lucky charm.

Warnings- FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF, anger, angst, arguments, happy couple… (jokes! Not really)

Word count- 1.8k

plsplsplsplsplspls dont copyyy my work!

“You don’t get it, Y/N!” Jake’s voice was sharp, frustration thick in every word.

“Then explain it to me, Jake! Because right now, it feels like I’m the only one trying.” Y/N’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her voice shaking between anger and hurt.

Jake let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t care? That I don’t appreciate you?”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Jake, I’ve been to every single game, every late-night practice, every stupid press conference where they ask you the same questions. And not once have I ever complained.” Her voice broke slightly, but she pushed on. “But the second I bring up how I feel, I’m the bad guy?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The look in her eyes—raw and filled with unshed tears—made his chest tighten.

“I can’t keep doing this if you don’t want me here, Jake.”

His stomach twisted. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. But his stupid pride got in the way, and instead of telling her the truth—that he needed her more than anything—he muttered, “Maybe it’s better that way.”

The second the words left his lips, he wanted to take them back.

Y/N’s face fell, her jaw tightening as she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away.

Jake stood frozen, watching her disappear into the night.

He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

-

The silence between them was louder than anything Jake had ever experienced.

Y/N hadn’t texted. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t shown up to practice.

Jake told himself he was fine. That he could focus better without distractions. But when game day rolled around, it hit him like a freight train.

He jogged onto the field, scanning the stands on instinct. But the seat where she always sat—third row, left side, just behind the team bench—was empty.

His stomach clenched.

He tried to shake it off as the game started, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. His passes were off. His speed felt sluggish. Every shot he took either hit the post, went wide, or was blocked by the keeper.

The frustration built with every mistake, weighing him down like lead.

The final whistle blew, and UNI had lost. Jake barely heard the post-game speech from his coach, too busy replaying every missed opportunity in his head.

When he got back to the locker room, he didn’t even bother taking off his cleats right away. He just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor.

Jay, his closest teammate, nudged him. “Dude. What’s going on?”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Nothing. Just an off day.”

Jay scoffed. “Nah, man. This is more than that. I’ve never seen you play like this.” He paused. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Jay sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but it’s obvious you’re a wreck without her.”

Jake clenched his jaw. “She’s probably better off.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Yeah? Then why do you keep looking for her in the stands?”

Jake said nothing.

Jay grabbed his phone. “I’m texting her.”

Jake should’ve stopped him. Should’ve told him to leave it alone.

But he didn’t.

Y/N sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, as she mindlessly scrolled through her camera roll. Each swipe brought a new memory, a new reminder of everything she and Jake had been before it all fell apart.

There was a photo of him grinning at her during one of their late-night study sessions, his notes forgotten as he balanced a pencil between his nose and upper lip, trying to make her laugh. She had rolled her eyes at the time, but she could still remember the way her stomach had fluttered when he looked at her like she was the best part of his world.

Another picture—Jake, covered in sweat but grinning like a fool after a big win, his arm slung lazily around her shoulders. She had been laughing, caught mid-cheer, his jersey draped over her like a second skin. She had been so proud of him. She always was.

And then, one of her favorites—a candid shot of them from a lazy Sunday morning. Jake, shirtless and half-asleep, stealing bites of her breakfast as she swatted at his hand, laughing at his shamelessness. His hair had been a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but he had looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Y/N’s chest ached.

She missed him. More than she wanted to admit.

Her fingers hovered over his contact, the familiar urge to text him creeping in. But then, like a cruel reminder, his words echoed in her head.

"Maybe it’s better that way."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, locking her phone. If that was what he wanted, then fine. She wouldn’t be the one to break first.

But then, as if the universe was laughing at her stubbornness, her phone buzzed.

Jay: Jake’s a mess. He needs you. Badly.

Her heart clenched.

She should ignore it. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who made her feel like she didn’t matter.

But… if that were true, why was he struggling so much?

Y/N exhaled slowly, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes betrayed her, filled with something she wasn’t ready to name yet.

She could walk away. Let Jake figure this out on his own. Prove to herself that she didn’t need him as much as he needed her.

But that was a lie.

Because no matter how angry or hurt she was… she still loved him.

And she wasn’t sure she ever wouldn’t.

With a resigned sigh, she grabbed her jacket and touched up her makeup.

If she was going, she was going to make an entrance.

She headed out the door, her heart pounding.

Jake needed her.

And whether she liked it or not… she needed him too.

-

Jake jogged onto the field, his mind clouded with doubt.

His body felt heavy, his nerves shot. The last few games had been a disaster, and the weight of failure clung to him like a storm he couldn’t outrun. He tried to shake it off, stretching his arms and bouncing on his feet, but nothing felt right.

Then, instinctively, he looked toward the stands.

And everything stopped.

His breath hitched. His heart stuttered.

Y/N was there.

Sitting in her usual spot—third row, left side, just behind the team bench.

Jake blinked, half-convinced he was imagining it. But no, it was real. She was real.

And damn, she looked good.

Her hair was styled just the way he liked, her makeup subtle but stunning. She wore his favorite shade, the one he always said made her eyes stand out, and even from across the field, he could see the way her lips curved in something between challenge and amusement.

She came.

A rush of energy shot through his veins, the kind he hadn’t felt since before she left. His pulse pounded, but this time, it wasn’t from nerves—it was from something deeper, something electric.

His lucky charm had returned.

And just like that, everything clicked back into place.

The whistle blew, and Jake was unstoppable.

Every pass was precise, every shot powerful. He weaved through defenders with the confidence he’d been missing, his movements sharp and deliberate. The frustration that had been drowning him for days melted away, replaced by pure instinct.

And every time he scored, he didn’t look at the scoreboard. He didn’t look at his teammates.

He looked at her.

Y/N sat there, arms crossed, trying to look unimpressed. But he saw the way her lips twitched, the way her fingers tapped against her thigh. She was proud of him—he knew it.

By the final whistle, UNI had secured the win. The crowd erupted in cheers, his teammates swarming him with congratulations, but Jake barely acknowledged any of it.

His eyes were locked on her.

Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the stands, pushing past the crowd. Y/N had already started making her way down toward the field, and when she stopped in front of him, they just stood there, staring at each other.

For the first time in days, Jake could breathe again.

“I was an idiot.” His voice was breathless, raw. “I didn’t mean any of it, Y/N. I was just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “I was scared. Of how much I need you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed. “Yeah? I figured, considering how hard you flopped without me.”

Jake huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I deserved that.”

“Damn right, you did.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, but Jake didn’t miss the way her tough exterior wavered, the way her eyes softened just slightly.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, I mean it. I never should’ve pushed you away.” His voice dropped to something quieter, more vulnerable. “You’re everything to me.”

She sighed, finally uncrossing her arms. “Jake… you can’t shut me out when things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

“I know,” he admitted, his gaze never leaving hers. “And I won’t. Ever again.”

Y/N studied him for a long moment, and then, finally, she sighed in defeat. “You’re lucky I like you, Sim.”

Relief crashed over him, and before she could say anything else, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms arowund her and pulling her in tight.

She hesitated for half a second before melting into him, her arms circling his waist.

Jake buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, and everything felt right again. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“I know,” she teased, voice muffled against his jersey. “I could tell from your embarrassing game stats.”

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Guess I need you to keep me in check.”

“Clearly.”

Jake reached up, brushing his thumb over her cheek, his voice softer now. “So… does this mean you’ll be at the next game?”

Y/N smirked. “As long as you keep winning.”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering, “Then I guess I have no choice.”

Because she wasn’t just his biggest supporter.

She was his lucky charm.

isa note! - lallalala first story!!! lalalall so excited! lalalalalla

taglist~ @firstclassjaylee

if wanted to be tag plspslplspsls let me know! 💗

© luvoooenha on tumblr 2024-2025. please don’t copy, repost, or translate my works! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :)

[rubiehart]

being jj’s passenger princess after a long day at work was a god send, especially when he treats you exactly how he should…

“can i borrow your lipstick?”

“yeah, it’s somewhere in here.”

the clatter of items from the two girl's bag's fills the silence of the dingy tikki bar’s bathroom, bringing you back to reality as you blink slowly in the mirror, hands gripping the porcelain sink as you sigh.

rude customers, and pervy old men, mixed with the heatwave the outer banks was currently suffering was a recipe for disaster, leaving you in a fowl mood all night, counting down the hours until you could stumble into your bestfriend’s truck and into john b’s guest bed with him.

at the distant buzz of your phone a wave of relief washes over you, reaching into the back pocket of your jean shorts, eyes landing on the little buzzing screen, lit up with his name.

pressing your back against the wall, you jab at the screen eagerly with a fingernail painted with chipper glittery polish, bringing to phone to your ear, breathing out an exhausted 'hey.’ fiddling with the hem of your uniformed waist apron.

"m’ outback, y’ need me to come walk you out? ‘s gettin’ dark- pretty fast." he hums, the sound of the blinker in background as he pulls into the parking lot.

you nod like he can see you, pressing into the corner of your eye with your ring finger, swiping away an rogue flake of mascara, before settling for an exhausted. ‘uh- nah, it’s fine. be one sec.” before promptly ending the call.

the slap of your sandals against the tarmac speeds up as you approach him, arms folded over his chest with that knowing smirk on his face, leaning against the hood of the twinkie.

you almost groan at the sight, tan forearms bulging unfairly. you practically throw yourself into his waiting arms, leaning your head on his shoulder. he’s startled for a second, eyes going wide, but then his arms are encircling your waist and his lips pressed to your crown, fighting the urge to kiss the skin softly, settling for just inhaling your shampoo.

“i fuckin’ missed you - never thought i’d say it." you hum jokingly, pulling away to look him in the eyes, his hands sliding lower to rest on the backs of your thighs. "missed you too my girl - always do." he says, titling his head down towards you with a teasing pout.

your heart flips at that, his girl, you knew, duh, just nice for it to be affirmed, especially when he’s looking at you like that in an empty parking lot. makes you contemplate if this friendship was worth ruining just to persue your fantasies.

“cmon, gimme some sugar.” he smirks, and it’s joking of course, but who is jj if not persistent? so he leans down a little anyway, doesn’t expect to feel the wet smush of your lips to his jaw, only now does he realise you’re a little tipsy - having been sneaking shots under the bar all day just to deal with your shift.

"that new?" he asks, feigning nonchalance when you pull away, running a gentle thumb across your chin to wipe away some excess gloss.

"yeah- got it last week. don’t you just looove it?" you smile hopefully and he nods, chucking softly as your excited little pout, hands sliding up and down your thighs as he replies, supportive as ever. "damn right- i love it. might cop myself some." he teases, giving a fleeting pat to your denim covered ass, rounding the car to open your door, gesturing for you to get in.

your cheeks heat up at the casual act, following his footsteps. "think y’ a gentleman? you ain’t foolin’ anyone." you grin, taking his hand to hop up into the truck, he averts his gaze, jaw clenching when you stumble, falling with your literal ass in the air.

once you’re situated, hand still in his, so flustered as he presses his chapped lips to your hand, charming smirk on his face, hair all disheveled and looking edible in the orange glow of the streetlights. “i am - only for you though, mama.”

he rounds the car to sink months agoat, turning the key in the ignition and you can't help admire the way his forearms tense at the action. the car kicks to life and you're both off.

after driving for five or so minutes, you were getting a little restless, unable to ignore how perfectly his jawline was highlighted by the streetlights, or how the hand he’d smoothly rested on your thigh was slowly sliding further and further towards where you wanted - scratch that, needed it most.

you weren't even sure he knew what he was doing to you, but you couldn't wait to find out. it was pathetic really, just how easily you could go from 0 to 100, but you were past the point of caring, and all you was for him to make you feel good.

on impulse, you reach for the hand caressing your thigh, his eyes flit to you, unsure of what you're intention was until he meets your eyes. he could recognise that glazed over needy look anywhere, the one you get when you’re scouting out boys at the boneyard, or the beach, or wherever, all this time he’s wanted you to look at him like that, and now you were? he thinks he’s gonna stop breathing.

you drag his hand gently up your body to rest on your tit, which he squeezes on instinct, eyes only half focused on the road. he lets out a gruff, unsure call of your name, clearing his throat, wondering if he should stop.

the action illicites a pretty little whimper from you, which he takes as motivation to keep you making those noises. he darts his eyes between the busy road and you, legs spread and lips parted, eyes fluttering gently as he rubs a thumb over your pebbled nipple through the bobbly material of your graphic tee, scarce of a thick enough bra.

navigating the bustle of traffic was a challenge in itself, but now he'd have to multitask, dipping his hand down between your legs, already feeling the warmth radiating off of you through your denim shorts as you eagerly begin popping the buttons, head thrown back against the head rest, eyes on him. “please, jay..." you mewl, and he knows the risks. but fortunately for you, jj likes a challenge.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"WHEN FINE SHYT IS LOW-KEY A WERIDO"

(Think of this as another Valentine gift from the alpha)

Weird, neglected black!reader is probably the strangest partner anyone could ever date. People like to think the reader is the normal one in the Batfam, being the only civilian and quite closed off. But in reality, no one could possibly match their insane freak; no one is at their level of freak, and it's actually crazy. No one can out-freak you. That Wattpad phase wasn't a joke. Just imagine this: Conner is cuddling with the reader, and all of a sudden, they're like...

"Babe, would it be fucked up if I turned into a deadly brain parasite and affected your psyche, making you only think about me?" you whispered into his chest gently, half asleep. Conner had to stop massaging your scalp and stare down at you with the nastiest side-eye, but if you're down, he's down. You're hanging out with Cassie, and all of a sudden, you call her eyes Miku blue, and you have to convince her it's a compliment.

"Sex isn't enough; I need to resonate my soul with yours so we can be one. Real shit." You say that like it's the most casual thing ever, knowing full well you just turned your partner into a blushing mess. You could be in a headlock by Rose Wilson herself just to giggle and ask if she’s free on the 14th. There's no shame in your game; she might shoot you down, but you'd rather take your shot. Next thing you know, you’re on a dinner date with the daughter of a dude who has beef with your older brother and father. The reader has the weird "I wanna turn your eyes into jewelry so you only look at me" rizz. That works because their lovers are freaks too.

Sitting on top of Bart, touching his freckles from cheek to shoulders, counting them while he rambles about the future, just for you to be like

"I wonder if there are any freckles down here," your hand moves slowly down his body, and you see how fast he starts blushing, and he's making English sound like Simlish it just makes you laugh

"If I were to turn into a vampire and make you my eternal blood bag, would you be okay with that, or would you like to fuck off or something?" To be honest, this is what makes or breaks a relationship.

[seneon]

hihi sennieee ！！i don’t know if your reqs are still open but … shotting with dabi ？:3 maybe grunge dabi but up to you ！

★ NIGHTCRAWLERS ( GRUNGE¡DABI ) tw drugs !

senation don't do drugs or shotgunning or even attempt to try this lolz

the atmosphere is cold and misty, almost like a world where it's driven far from reality. like a mere dream where one exists in the mind but their body is somewhere out there. every breath that is breathed out comes with a little mist that emits from your nose or mouth.

it's cold. a comfortable cold. one where two souls who aren't very much sleepy and very much wide awake while the rest of the world sleeps.

dabi calls you and him "nightcrawlers". for it apparently looks like only your two restless souls are crawling through the cold misty earth in the dead of night. tonight was like no other. you're with him when you shouldn't be, hanging around a teenage boy who prepares to light up some crack cocaine cubes.

your eyes watched in silence as his fingers worked their way to light up a lighter, pushing the flames to dance around the edges of the solid substance. it's all performed in silence. it's the dead of night, nobody wants to speak in this comfortable quietness that wraps around you.

once the crack vaporises into a thin layer of smoke, dabi inhales it before parting his lips to suck the smoke, all while you're seated— looking pretty and watching your boyfriend execute an illicit activity.

his hand reaches out to your cheek to pull you close before he presses his lips onto yours. you felt his fingers squeezing your cheeks open, and the next moment, your mouth is filled with a funny smoke that travelled from dabi's lips to yours.

you kissed back. obviously you did. in your mind comes with the concept that shotgunning is simply romantic. the flavour that danced around your mouths and lips were intoxicating until your nightcrawling souls craved for more.

"who gives a fuck about valentines when we can do shit like this?" dabi softly murmurs against your lips before softly pecking it in such an intimate way before pulling away to inhale more of the thin smoke into his mouth.

"well, it's just a holiday anyways," you replied and tasted the smoke in your mouth. "it tastes disgusting."

"don't get addicted now, pretty," he chuckled lowly. "come here," he pulls you closer until his lips are on yours while the moon watches two young souls kissing with the essence of a smoked drug that travels between their lips.

if anything, dabi intends to shotgun with you all night if it means you'll be crawling to the darkest ends of the world with him.

© SENEON 2025 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[cutielando]

gingerbread house | oscar piastri

synopsis: in which McLaren inspires you to start a new tradition with Oscar

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

The smell of cinnamon and sugar filled the air as you placed the last of the gingerbread pieces on the table.

Oscar stood beside you, hands on his hips, surveying the setup like he was about to tackle a particularly tricky corner on the racetrack.

“I’m just saying, I think mine’s going to be better than yours” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, already used to him making everything a race with you.

“It’s not a race, Osc. It’s supposed to be fun and bonding” you said, pouting.

��Everything is a race, you live with a Formula 1 driver, babe” he continued, his lips forming a playful grin.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you handed him a piping bag filled with white icing.

“Fine, you’re on. But don’t come crying to me when I beat your ass” you said, your own competitive side slowly coming out of its shell.

The two of you got to work, carefully piecing together the walls and roofs of your gingerbread houses.

Or rather, you were the one doing it carefully.

Oscar, on the other hand, seemed to have chosen a more experimental approach. The icing was everywhere - on his hands, everywhere on the table, somehow even in his hair.

“How on earth did you manage that?” you asked, pointing to the white streak of icing near his temple.

He looked up, confused, and when he brushed a hand through his hair, he only managed to spread the icing even more.

“Uh, oops?” he said, giving you a sheepish smile.

Shaking your head, you grabbed a damp cloth and walked over to him.

“Sit still” you instructed, gently wiping away the mess in his hair.

Oscar stayed still under your touch, his eyes locked on yours and a soft smile replacing his playful grin.

“Thanks” he murmured, his voice softer now.

You smiled back at him, giving his nose a little peck.

“You’re welcome. Now, please focus. I don’t want to hear you whining when my house ends up looking better than yours” you said, quickly getting back to work.

He snapped back to his usual self, narrowing his eyes at you, as if he was challenging you.

“We’ll see about that, babe” he said, determined to make his house look a thousand times better than yours.

The next hour or so was filled with laughter, teasing, and a few close calls with collapsing gingerbread walls.

By the time you were both done, both houses looked unique, to put it mildly.

“Okay, let’s compare” you said, both you and Oscar stepping back to admire the end results.

Oscar tilted his head, scrutinizing the sugary masterpieces like a gingerbread expert. His house leaned precariously to one side, icing dripping down like melting snow.

Yours was more stable, although your attempt at decorating the house candy canes and gumdrops had turned into a bit of a mess.

“Yours looks like it’s been through a hurricane” you teased him, elbowing him softly.

“And yours looks like a kid’s art project” Oscar shot back, not able to contain his laughter anymore.

You both dissolved into giggles, the competition long forgotten.

“It looked much easier in your video, if we’re being honest” you said, trying to defend your work

Oscar nodded, agreeing with you.

“I think it’s because I just had to decorate it. I didn’t actually have to build it from scratch. They probably knew it would look like this” Oscar said, making you giggle more intensely.

"Yeah, probably" you said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"We should do this next year, you know?" he said, his eyes still assessing the gingerbread houses.

"We could. This could become our little Christmas tradition" you said, smiling at the thought of doing this for many more years with Oscar by your side.

Oscar nodded, planting a kiss on your forehead as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you closer to him.

"Our little tradition"

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[avianyuh]

Soulmates | Jeon Wonwoo

word count: 367

“I think you’re my soulmate.” He said, our fingers intertwined as we lay side by side on his bed. He had his circle framed glasses on and the light from the bedside lamp reflected off of his lenses. The blinds were drawn up, but all you could see was darkness outside.

Normally, soulmates are viewed as some cheesy concept. Something stupid you’d say when you’re a teenager. But why? Don’t we all want to meet someone that feels so perfect. Almost like that person was specifically made for you? 

I think back to all of the times we’d find ourselves saying the same things. Or he’d recommend a book to me that I had already read. 

The times I’d glance at him and know exactly what was on his mind. 

The way we communicate by squeezing each other’s hands to let the other know if we want to stay out or go home. 

All the times he’s gone for work. Weeks at a time where we don’t see each other. I know he'll come back but always find it hard to fall asleep during those times. Yet, in the midst of the chaos, he still always found the time to send a text to check in, or sneak away to call. He’ll ask if I’m okay and if I’ve been eating enough… And though I act annoyed, I secretly love that he cares. 

In response to his confession, I turn my body onto my side so I'm fully looking at him now. Our hands are still glued together. "Yeah" I smile. "I think you're my soulmate too." Eyes locked on his as I plant my lips on his own. His kisses are always so familiar, yet delicate.

So there I am, in my boyfriend's bed with his lips on mine and I know there will never be another moment in time like this. Another time where I feel as wanted and as safe as I do right now.

But that’s what a soulmate is, your better half. The one person in the entire world who completes you. Who puts your mind at ease. The one you will always find your way back to time and time again. 

{A/N: Happy Valentines babes. Sorry I haven't posted much but just as I anticipated, I've been busy with school. I wanted to write something romantic for V Day and i have no manz at the moment and was a little in my feels about that😓 But I love Wonwoo in his circle lenses so I found a way to mention those lmao. Also I started a Substack (literally signed up today) to write on so I have a place to post my non fanfic content/stories. I'll link that in my bio pretty soon if anyone would like to read anything over there (it's free) Just subscribing to be on the email list would really help me and since I have over 700 followers on here I thought it'd be worth a shot to mention it. But anyways, most likely by the end of the month, I'll have up DK as a boyfriend. If not the end of the month then early March. Okay, as always, I love you and mwahhhhh💋}

[thezombieprostitute]

Nurse Heartthrob

Summary: Your son is in the hospital and his nurse makes sure to take care of him and you.

Warnings: Ex-boyfriend angst, Hospital setting, Sick child. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Word Count: ~2.5k

As always, many thanks to @bigtreefest for her help with the medical stuff!

It's a phone call no parent ever wants to get. Your son, Val, had passed out on the playground and they were rushing him to the hospital. You let your boss know what was happening and drove out to the emergency room where the school said they'd sent him. Dr. Rogers was very reassuring about everything but insisted Val get admitted to pediatrics.

Given your son's medical history you were quick to agree. Val had been diagnosed with Long QT Syndrome just a few months after he was born. That was, apparently, the final straw for your ex-boyfriend, claiming he couldn't handle the responsibility of taking care of a sick child. Never mind that having a kid was his idea to begin with. Never mind that you'd already been doing most of the work. He left the two of you and, last you'd heard, he'd been hitting up younger women at the same bar where he'd met you.

For now, though, you had to focus on your son. The pediatrics nurse, Jake, was incredible. He had Val smiling and feeling at ease in minutes while also putting you at ease with his competency. Watching your baby getting IVs, shots, blood draws never got easier but, thankfully, Jake was proficient and you know Val's not hurting more needed. The doctor comes in, asking the usual questions. You always keep a folder of Val's medical history, always updating it with each appointment.

She looks over everything and finally says, "I agree Val should stay in the hospital for a bit but we don't have room in pediatrics. Thankfully there are a few open beds in cardiology and that'll make it easier to get Val the tests he needs."

You nod in understanding and the doctor gives Jake the go-ahead.

As he starts prepping the bed to move you ask, "how long do you think until someone takes us to cardiology?"

"I'm taking you now," he smiles.

"Aren't..aren't there designated nurses? Techs? Who move the beds between departments?"

"Normally, yes," Jake nods. "But my wife works in cardiology so they let me escort patients there so I can get a few minutes with her."

"That's sweet," Val pipes up. His voice is tired, weak, and it breaks your heart.

"It really is," you agree. You stuff down the jealousy you feel. It's clear Jake loves his wife and you really wish you had that for yourself.

Jake makes conversation easy throughout the walk. Val tells him about his latest Lego creation and he gets almost cartoonishly animated, making you and Val smile.

You know you've reached the cardiology wing when Jake stands up and waves, "Dr. Wifey! Over here!"

One of the doctors stops what she's doing, her face beaming with happiness, and walks over.

Following her is one of the biggest nurses you've ever seen. He's got a buzz cut, a slight beard, and eyes that look like a clear blue sky in winter. But his build, the tattoo covered arms especially, is making your own heart flutter.

"Dr. Wifey" introduces herself to you with her actual name, though you're certain you'll always think of her as "Dr. Wifey." She asks the nurse, Curtis, to take over pushing the bed so Jake can get back to pediatrics. While she looks at Jake affectionately, get actions and tone are professional, for which you're grateful. As cute as they are together, you can only stomach so much sweetness. Less so during times like this.

You get the impression that Curtis feels the same with how he rolls his eyes a little. He smiles at you and Val, introducing himself before taking over moving the bed. He and Jake banter a little and you're not sure if they're actually friends, if they're trying to make things easier for you and Val, or both. You hope it's both.

"Okay, Jake, we've gotta get Val to his room and you gotta get back to work," Dr. Wifey says with a kiss.

"Later, Nurse Puppy," Curtis waves as he starts moving the bed.

"See ya, Nurse Heartthrob," Jake returns as he starts walking back.

While Val is giggling at the banter you see Curtis turn pink, making you not ask about the nickname. Truth be told, the way your own heart reacted to him, you're pretty sure you already know the source.

Along the way Dr. Wifey is looking over Val's chart and praising your detailed, organized folder. Her questions are so much more relevant than some of Val's other appointments. You don't have to repeat information and her follow up questions show she's actually listening. It's a nice change of pace from the doctors who never seem to believe anything you tell them.

She asks some questions directly to Val about what he was doing right before he passed out. He shakes his head and says he was just sitting around at recess. You sense there's something he's not saying and encourage him to tell the whole truth, that he's safe.

"How about we start you off with a nap?" Dr. Wifey suggests. "You've had a long, scary day and could probably use the rest."

"Yes, please," Val pouts.

"Okay," you nod. "You get some rest and I'll run home and get our hospital bags, okay? The ones with Legos?"

"Thanks, Mom," Val smiles. You smile back and say a quick goodbye before heading out.

As soon as you're out of hearing range, Curtis turns to Val, "so what were you really doing? Get into a fight with some of the other kids or something?"

Val hesitates and Dr. Wifey adds, "patient doctor confidentiality, Val. Anything you tell me is just between us."

"I tried playing kickball," he confesses. "I know I'm not supposed to. That I have be careful with my heart. But it looked like fun!"

Curtis feels his heart wrench at that. He just wants to be a kid, but because of some inherited disorder, he can't even run around.

"Why didn't you want to say anything in front of your mother?" Dr. Wifey follows up.

"Because I don't want her to get upset."

"Upset?" Curtis raises an eyebrow, immediately on guard for something horrible.

"She cries so much," Val tells whispers. "Sometimes, when she thinks I'm asleep, I'll hear her crying about wishing she could give me a normal life. I don't want her crying because I tried to play."

Curtis fights to keep himself under control. If the kickball comment wrenched his heart, this was a punch to the gut.

"She sounds like a good mom," Dr. Wifey chimes in. Curtis recognizes the emotion in her voice. Val only nods in response.

"She said the hospital bag included Legos?" Curtis chimes in.

"Yeah," Val smiles softly. "They're fun and...and normal. They help me play while not hurting my heart."

"They're definitely fun," Curtis agrees. "When you get them, can I play with them a little? I could use the diversion during my shift."

Val's smile widens, "yeah. That sounds good."

As you park in the hospital parking lot for the second time that day, you take a minute to steady yourself. You know the nap suggestion was a ploy so they could ask Val questions without having you answer for him. Normally they wait until they start doing tests but Val probably could use the rest. Maybe it was so the doctor could get some more time to look over Val's history and not duplicate any needless tests. You only hope Val finally told them something so they can take care of him properly. It's killing you that Val thinks he needs to keep secrets from you, but you suppose it's part of what happens as kids get older.

You'd been so distracted on your way last time you'd forgotten to make note of the directions to Val's bed, so you stopped at the Nurses' Station.

"Oh, Val's your kid!" Teresa, the nurse, comments. "He's such a sweetie!"

"Thank you," you smile.

"He and Nurse Heartthrob have become fast friends, too."

"Nurse Heartthrob?" Though you'd heard the nickname before, you thought it was between Curtis and Jake.

"We call him that because his appearance always makes the patients' heart rates spike," she chuckles. "He's quite the looker. Have you seen those arms?"

"I have," you half smile. "Trying not to, though. Guy that looks like him has to have a partner or something already."

She sighs, "I know. As far as we can tell he's single, but no one knows for certain. He just says he doesn't date coworkers which, honestly, don't blame him. A few girls were tempted to switch to other parts of the hospital."

That makes you chuckle. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one who's got trouble getting a date with a hottie."

"As much as I'm enjoying the compliments," Curtis's voice interrupts you, "how about I lead you to Val's room?"

Teresa's eyes widen almost as much as yours. You cough from surprise, your face heated with embarrassment. Who knew such a large man could move so quietly? Or maybe you're just that tired.

When you get your bearings you turn to Curtis, "yes, please. Thank you." When you're far enough away from the Nurses' Station you apologize. "I'm sorry about that conversation. I...should have been more respectful."

Curtis shakes his head, "not the first time I've heard something like it. Probably won't be the last."

"Still, I feel like I should be past the whole high school thing."

"Lotta people should be but aren't. You get used to it, especially in a hospital."

"I suppose people who work your kind of job do need whatever outlets they can get."

Curtis nods. "For a lot of nurses it's the gossip, the trash tv. Other times it's meditation or yoga. Stuff you don't have to think about. Lets you keep your mental energy for the patients."

"Can I ask what your outlet is?"

"Only if I can ask you a question about you and Val."

"Sure."

Curtis stops walking and leans in, conspiratorially. "My outlet is junk food. It means I have to spend a ton of time in the gym, but I'm addicted to those thousand-plus-calorie snacks and fast food. It's food I don't have to cook, don't have to worry about clean up, and it gives me the energy I need for the day."

"I can relate," you nod, smiling. "With Val's health we always have to be careful with what we eat but sometimes I'll treat myself to something on my way to work."

Curtis smiles and you feel your heart speed up. "I'm glad you treat yourself from time to time. From what Val's told us, you work really hard to take care of him."

Your smile drops, "he's my world. Such a good kid who never asked for any of this."

"But that also leads me to my question, what's the story behind Val's...Y chromosome contributor?"

"I gotta remember that one," you snort. "Last I heard, the contributor is at a bar he's way too old for hitting on women who are way too young. He swore up and down that having a kid would be great for us, that it was his life's dream to have a child. Then, when Val was diagnosed, he bailed saying he couldn't handle the pressure or something."

"Well that's bullshit," Curtis scoffs. "How much did you tell Val?"

"I told Val his 'dad' is a liar who doesn't deserve us. That he lied about being faithful to the two of us. It's enough of the truth without Val needing to worry about his health being the reason he doesn't have a dad like so many other kids."

"Your secret is safe with me," Curtis says in such a way that you believe him.

"Thank you."

"By the way, you have two hospital bags for Val? Is one of them just for his toys or something?"

"One of them is for me," you explain. "I still need to work, but I can spend all my non-work time here with him. Got myself some toiletries, a phone charger for my books, a couple changes of clothing, all that."

Curtis just nods, silently wishing more patients had someone willing to stick around for them.

When you get to Val's bed he's sleeping soundly. You're careful to get things settled so that you don't wake him. You put his latest Lego creation on the patient table so he can see it when he wakes up. You called his school while you were getting the bags and they promised to have materials for you so you can keep up his lessons.

Throughout the week, every time Curtis arrives to work, he makes sure to get you a coffee. He says it's the free stuff from the break room. You have no idea he's buying you the better stuff from the cafe and pouring it into one of the generic cups from the coffee dispenser. Some of his coworkers give him questioning looks but he pretends he doesn't see; he's not entirely sure why he's doing it either.

Sometimes when you get to the hospital after work, you'll catch Curtis and Val playing with his Legos. It warms your heart to see Val smile and laugh so much. Even when he sleeps, he's smiling. It makes you wonder if you should try getting back into dating, giving Val someone else who cares for him. Giving yourself someone who cares for you. You're not sure anyone could compare to Curtis, but that's not really a fair comparison to begin with. It's his job to be caring and supporting. To check in on you and Val. Besides, someone like him can do much better than a single mother with a sick kid.

The morning before Val gets released to go home, you go for a drive to the nearest McDonald's and order some of the worst sounding foods you see.

Back at the hospital, you spot Curtis and hand him the bag. "Just a small thank you for taking care of me and Val so much."

Curtis feels his mouth watering at the smell of the food. It's such a big bag, too! He smiles, "any time. And, uh, if it's not too forward, can I give you my number? In case you or Val need some help?"

Your eyes soften and Curtis feels his heart lurch, worried he overstepped. "I can't ask that of you, Curtis. You have such a taxing job already. You don't need to work outside of the hospital, too."

"I wouldn't consider it work," he tells you. "I'd consider it...getting to know someone better? Someone I'm...I'm interested in getting to know better?"

"Oh? Oh!" you exclaim as your eyes widen. "You...you really mean that?"

His eyes soften as he smiles. "Yeah, I mean it."

"Thank you, Curtis. I'm looking forward to calling you."

Tagging:

@alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[rose-in-blue]

Valentine’s Day Special — “Really and Truly”

Alastor x reader

Summary: After the hotel’s valentine’s day party, Alastor gets a little drunk. Who knows what secrets will be revealed when the Radio Demon gets a little too much whiskey?

Warnings/tags: afab/female reader, cursing, fluff, tipsy!Alastor

A/n: I was very inspired by the valentine’s outfits from Vivzie, so everyone’s outfits here are (modest, going out, of course) versions of the designs. (I was also inspired by @zonxter's amazing work here) Also, this is my first time writing a kiss scene, so please let me know if it's ok! :)

Word count: 1392

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

You sighed, picking up yet another plastic party cup. After a long day of setting up the hotel for Charlie’s Valentine’s Day party, the last thing you wanted to do was clean up the mess the guests had made. However, one look into Charlie’s puppy-dog eyes convinced you to ignore your oncoming headache and help. 

“Another, please, Husker!” Alastor, the only one not helping, sat on the couch in the lobby, surrounded by a few to many shot glasses. Husk rolled his eyes from the bar, but dutifully poured another and brought it over to Al. You sighed. It wasn’t fair that you were working your ass off while the Radio Demon just sat around, was it?

Making your way over to the couch where he sat, you kept picking up streamers in various shades of pink and red and stuffing them into the black trash bag you carried. As you drew closer to Alastor, you could tell just how drunk he was. Chuckling to himself about seemingly nothing, his bowtie was completely undone, just hanging around his neck, and both his feet were up on the couch. One knee crossed over the other with his hands draped across his chest, this was possibly the least put-together you’d ever seen him. His eyes lazily drifted up to yours, a tipsy blush across his cheeks. “Why, hello, dear!” he said, radio filter gone, almost slurring his words together. “You wouldn’t mind getting me another one of these, would you?” he asked, raising the now-empty shot glass in his hand. You just rolled your eyes and moved on, clearing more party cups off the bar. You didn’t really know why he let his demeanor slip so much, especially since everyone was still out and about, but you decided it was better not to ask. 

Alastor huffed like a child, then called out to Husk, who poured another one. Alastor groggily grabbed it off the bar with his shadowy tentacles. 

Sitting at the bar, you subtly glanced over at him. Alastor looked different today— a nice different. Instead of his usual suit, the one he wore now had only black and dark red. Heart shaped buttons and small stitched x’s adorned his cuffs and vest front. You blushed slightly; vests were your weak spot. Alastor caught your eyes, and your blush only deepened as his smirk grew. Breaking his stare, you returned your gaze to the bar in front of you, suddenly fascinated with the etchings in the wood.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Could I have some help over here?” Charlie called from the other side of the lobby.

“Sure,” you called back, getting up from the barstool.

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

About an hour later, the lobby was finally back to looking normal. Charlie and Vaggie had just gone up to bed, soon followed by Angel, Lucifer, Niffty, and, finally, Husk. You finished up in the kitchen, then went out one last time to check on Alastor. He was still on the couch, even more disheveled than before. Over half a dozen shot glasses sat on the table in front of him. You sighed, before going over to pick them up. Alastor looked up, as if just now registering your presence. “Ah, darling! Won’t you pour me just one more of those?” he asked, eyes half-lidded. 

You firmly shook your head. “No, Alastor. You’ve had enough. I don’t know what got into you tonight, but no more of it. I’m cutting you off.”

Alastor practically pouted (yet somehow remained smiling). “No, dear. Please get me another, or I will.”

You turned to face him, looking down to where he was splayed across the couch, legs now wide open. “No! No more! You’re going to be too drunk to get up to your room if you have more.”

Alastor growled, his eyes flashing into radio dials. He grabbed at your hands, pulling you toward him until you fell forward. You flushed; partly out of anger (and partly because you were practically sitting in his lap). “And what, my dear, gives you the jurisdiction to preside over me, to make that decision for me? Hmm?”

Still flushed, you didn’t really know what to say. (Even when drunk, Alastor had such a way with words). “I, uh…” You decided to just be honest. “I don’t want to see you regret anything you might do tonight.”

He smiled, pulling you even closer. Your face was inches from his, your stomach pressed against his. “Oh, dear… I would never regret anything I did with you.”

You turned as red as his hair. “I’m not so sure about that,” you backed up, pulling out of his grasp. “You’ve never even held my hand before, and now you’re pulling me into your lap? I don’t think that’s something that you would do if you were sober.”

Alastor’s smile turned almost sad. “Or maybe it’s just something I’ve never been brave enough to do,” he said quietly.

“...I… I’m sorry?” you whispered. There was no way that Alastor had admitted that. But, if he really had… then maybe your feelings toward him were reciprocated? No, of course not, you shook the thought from your head.

He looked down, sighed, and then looked back at you. “Forgive me, dear,” he breathed. 

Before you had a chance to ask him what he was talking about, Alastor had pulled you back to his lap, crashing his lips against yours.

You froze. As much as you’d dreamed of this moment, you couldn’t rightfully continue. It would be taking advantage of the situation. Fighting against every urge to kiss him back, you pulled away.

Alastor looked surprised, then sad, then guilty. “I… I’m so sorry,” he sighed, dropping your hands.

Rushing to fix your mistake, you started babbling. “No, no, it’s not that, it’s just…” you struggled to find the right words. “I can’t. Not while you’re like this. Not when you can't make decidions, on weather or not you want to do this."

Alastor blinked, seeming out of the alcohol trance for a moment. His eyes softened, gazing lovingly into yours. “Oh, my dear… You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for.”

You were taken aback. “I… what?”

“Sweetheart, ever since you arrived at this hotel, I’ve wanted to kiss you more than anything. I thought that today, on the day dedicated to love…” he laughed at this, gesturing around at the hotel, still minimally decorated. “...it might be the perfect opportunity to tell you. Ah, but alas…” he giggled, no doubt from the whiskey, “...Alas, it seems that I couldn’t have done it without a good ol’ glass of rye!”

“Um… really?” you whispered, not wanting to get your hopes up. "Not about the rye part, the... the other part?"

“Really and truly!” He smiled. Taking your hands again (softer, this time), he slowly pulled you back on his lap so that you now straddled him. Eyes never breaking from yours until they closed, his mouth gently found yours again. Running his silver tongue across your bottom lip, he smiled into the kiss. His lips were warm and soft, locked on yours. You breathed in a gasp as his tongue found its way into your mouth. Oh, he tasted so sweet— like strong rye and vanilla. The kiss was soft, not what you’d imagined from Alastor. It was a pleasant surprise, though— a very pleasant surprise.

The kiss deepened, as Alastor’s hand came up to the back of your neck. You shifted your hips forward, hands gripped tightly to his coat lapels. Alastor softly moaned into the kiss, and you matched it with a whine; in perfect harmony.

Gasping, you both came up for air. Staring into his eyes, a love-struck smile played across your face. Alastor goofily grinned. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You blushed as you stood, pulling Alastor with you. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that tomorrow, buddy.” Guiding him into the elevator, you pressed the button to the top floor.

“I will!” he assured you. Then, after a few moments, “Won’t you stay the night?”

Smiling, you held tighter onto his arm. “Not tonight, Al. Let’s wait until you’re not… intoxicated.”

He grinned as you led him out of the elevator to his room. “Really?”

You smiled as he walked into his room, turning back to gaze at you.

“Really and truly.”

[th3mrskory]

Chapter 9: Across the Divide

Pairing: Original fem!Reader x Origins!Logan Warning: angst, fluff, 18+ MDNI, SMUT, explicit language, loss of virginity, handjob, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, missionary, creampie.

A/N: If Chapter 8 was a punch to the gut, this one is… well, let’s call it an attempt at first aid. Sort of. Have you ever watched two people try to fix something in the worst possible way, only for it to somehow work because they don’t know any other language but this? Yeah. That.

Consider this a little Valentine’s Day treat. Twisted, messy, and completely them. Read when you’re ready. And yes, my inbox is still open for any and all reactions.

Word count: 7 k

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

The yard had grown quiet as the other workers moved further into the forest, leaving Logan to finish stacking the last of the wood alone. The sharp bite of winter hung in the air, his breath clouding in front of him with every exhale. The solitude was welcome—at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the silence didn’t stop the memories.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Logan clenched his fists, the words circling in his mind like a relentless echo. He grabbed a log from the pile and slammed it onto the stump, the impact reverberating through his arms. The ax swung down, splitting the wood clean in two.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced.”

He knew better than to hope for steady ground, better than to let himself believe he could hold onto something good. With Evelyn, it had felt different—like maybe, just maybe, he could carve out a life that didn’t feel like running or regret.

Now, it felt like a mistake.

The kiss he’d seen replayed over and over in his head, each time cutting deeper. It wasn’t just her ex he was angry at, though the smugness on the bastard’s face made Logan’s blood boil. No, most of the anger was for himself—for being stupid enough to think he could be enough for her.

The crunch of boots on gravel pulled him from his thoughts. Pete and Rick approached from the truck, their faces drawn with concern.

“You alright, Howlett?” Pete asked, his voice cautious but probing.

Logan didn’t look up, hefting another log onto the stump. “I’m fine.”

Pete and Rick exchanged a glance, the kind that said he’s definitely not fine.

“Look,” Pete began, leaning on the tailgate. “You don’t want to talk about it. But you’ve been going at this woodpile like it owes you money. Maybe take a second to breathe?”

“I don’t need a breather,” Logan said flatly, his tone daring them to push further.

Rick, quieter but no less perceptive, stepped up beside Pete. “You don’t have to talk,” he said after a pause, his voice measured. “But if you keep bottling it up, it’s gonna come out sideways.”

Logan didn’t respond, his focus locked on the ax as he brought it down with enough force to split the log cleanly.

Pete let out a low whistle. “Man, whatever’s eating at you must be big. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Logan finally stopped, leaning on the ax handle and leveling Pete with a glare. “I said I’m fine.”

“Sure, sure,” Pete said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But if you keep this up, there won’t be any wood left in the yard for the rest of us.”

Rick sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “Look, Logan. I don’t know what happened with Evelyn, but if she’s got you this twisted up, maybe she’s worth hearing out.”

Logan’s grip on the ax tightened, his jaw clenching as he stared at the ground. The truth in Rick’s words cut deeper than he cared to admit.

“Not my place to butt in,” Pete added, though his grin said otherwise. “But if you’re spending this much time stewing over it, she’s probably thinking about you, too.”

Logan shot them both a sharp look, then yanked the ax from the stump and turned toward the forest. “Leave it alone,” he muttered, stalking off into the trees without another word.

Pete waited until Logan was out of earshot before muttering, “Yeah, that went well.”

Rick shrugged, grabbing the thermos from the truck bed. “He’ll figure it out. He always does.”

During the course of the next couple of days the rhythm of the yard was the same, but Logan’s presence felt heavier. He worked harder than usual, his focus razor-sharp, but the tension in his frame was impossible to ignore.

Pete and Rick kept their distance this time, their occasional glances filled with concern.

By midday, Logan had thrown himself into another project, replacing a broken tool rack near the shed. His movements were precise, his jaw set in determination. But even as he worked, his mind wandered—back to the driveway, to Evelyn’s face when she saw him, and to the kiss that had shattered something inside him.

The guys noticed, but they didn’t say a word. Pete started a fire near the edge of the clearing, his usual jokes subdued. Rick passed by with a nod but left Logan to his thoughts.

By the time dusk fell, Logan was still at it, the hammer in his hand swinging with a force that bordered on reckless.

Tension seemed to follow him wherever he went, and his coworkers gave him a wide berth, exchanging knowing glances but keeping their distance.

The others gave him a wide berth, the tension in the yard thick enough to cut with a blade. Midday, the office phone rang, its shrill tone breaking the monotony of the worksite. Rick wiped his hands on a rag as he stepped inside to answer.

“Yeah, this is Rick,” he said, leaning against the desk.

“Hey, it’s Mary,” his wife’s voice came through the line, light but concerned. “Thought you’d want to know—I saw Evelyn back in town. She was at the general store this morning.”

Rick raised an eyebrow, glancing out the window toward Logan. “That right?”

“She looked... well, not great. Like she’s been through it. Thought Logan might want to know.”

Rick thanked her and hung up, stepping back outside with a purposeful stride. Pete caught his eye as he walked toward Logan, who was hunched over another stack of wood.

“What’s the news?” Pete asked.

Rick ignored him, stopping a few feet from Logan. “Hey, Howlett,” he called out, his tone even.

Logan didn’t look up. “What?”

Rick hesitated, then said, “Mary saw Evelyn in town this morning. Thought you’d want to know.”

Logan froze, his hands stilling on the axe handle. For a moment, it looked like he might respond, but then he shook his head and resumed working.

“Good for her,” he muttered, his voice flat.

Pete stepped forward, frustration evident in his expression. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re hurting, and so is she. Go talk to her.”

Logan’s grip on the axe tightened, his knuckles white. “I said I don’t care,” he snapped.

Pete sighed, throwing up his hands. “Alright, fine. Be stubborn. But don’t come crying to us when it’s too late.”

Rick shot Pete a warning look, but Logan didn’t seem to hear them anymore. He swung the axe down with a force that sent the wood flying, the conversation over.

When the day finally ended, Logan climbed into his truck, his body aching from the nonstop work. The drive home was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound to fill the cab.

As he pulled onto the dirt road leading to his cottage, his headlights illuminated a familiar vehicle parked in his driveway. Logan’s chest tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he slowed to a stop.

It was Evelyn’s truck.

For a long moment, he sat there, staring at it, his mind racing. A part of him wanted to get out, to see her, to hear whatever explanation she had to offer. But the memory of that kiss, of her ex standing so close to her, was a wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding.

With a sharp exhale, Logan put the truck in reverse and backed down the road.

He didn’t look back.

The next day Logan was halfway to the kitchen when he noticed the Polaroid resting on the mantle—the one Evelyn had taken of herself.  

He stared at it for a long moment, his chest tightening as he reached out to pick it up. The sight of her smile—the carefree warmth in her eyes—brought a lump to his throat he couldn’t swallow.  

A sudden knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. He hesitated, his grip on the Polaroid tightening as he listened.  

“I know you’re there, Logan,” Evelyn’s voice called softly from the other side. “Are you done running away from me? Please... let me explain.”  

Logan’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the photo in his hand. He didn’t move.  

“Logan,” she tried again, her voice trembling. “I’m not leaving until you hear me out.”  

Still, he didn’t answer.  

The minutes stretched on, the silence heavy and suffocating. Eventually, Evelyn exhaled shakily, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry. For everything. For not stopping him, for not calling you first. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me.”  

When the sound of her footsteps receded, Logan finally let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He sat down heavily, the Polaroid still in his hand as the weight of the past few days pressed down on him like a boulder.  

They didn’t speak for a week after Evelyn’s return. The silence between them was deafening, but neither seemed willing to bridge the gap.

The logging yard was alive with the rhythmic sound of axes striking wood, the hum of engines, and the occasional crack of a tree falling in the distance. Evelyn’s truck rolled into the gravel lot, its tires crunching softly against the frozen ground. Her heart pounded as she parked near the edge of the clearing, unsure if she had made the right decision by coming here.

As she stepped out, the cold air nipped at her cheeks, her breath visible in the chill. Her gaze scanned the bustling yard until it landed on two familiar figures standing near the truck bed—Rick and Pete. They noticed her almost instantly, exchanging a quick glance before Pete raised a hand in greeting.

“Miss Evelyn!” Pete called, his tone warm but tinged with curiosity. He closed the distance between them, wiping his hands on his flannel shirt. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Everything alright?”

She hesitated, shifting on her feet as Rick joined them, his expression more reserved but just as welcoming.

“Is Logan here?” she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

Pete and Rick exchanged another look, this one heavier.

“He’s around,” Rick said carefully, his arms folding across his chest. “But this probably isn’t the place for whatever conversation you’re looking to have.”

Evelyn’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of the last few days catching up to her. “I’ve been trying to talk to him,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I went to his cabin, but... he wouldn’t see me.”

Pete winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s been... well, let’s just say he’s not exactly himself lately.”

“He’s hurt,” Rick added bluntly, his gaze steady on her. “You can see it in the way he’s working—pushing himself harder than he should. Whatever happened between you two, it’s eating him alive.”

Evelyn swallowed hard, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I didn’t even—” She stopped, her breath hitching as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I never wanted to hurt him.”

Rick’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “I believe you. But he’s got his walls up right now. It’s going to take more than just words to get through to him.”

Pete stepped closer, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll talk to him. Try to get him to see reason. But you’ve got to give him a little time, alright? Let us handle it.”

Evelyn nodded reluctantly, the knot in her stomach tightening. “I don’t want him to think I don’t care,” she said softly.

“He knows,” Pete assured her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it right now.”

The drive back to the cottage felt longer than usual, the winter landscape passing by in a blur. Evelyn’s mind raced, replaying her conversation with Pete and Rick. Their words had given her a small measure of hope, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in her chest.

By the time she reached home, the familiar sight of the cozy cottage brought a semblance of comfort. She slipped inside, the warmth of the woodstove embracing her as she shed her coat and boots. Her gaze drifted to the basket of unfinished crochet pieces sitting by the couch.

With a deep breath, Evelyn settled herself down, picking up the half-finished sweater she had started weeks ago. Her hands moved methodically, the repetitive motion of the hook and yarn soothing her frayed nerves.

Hours turned into days, and the rhythm of her life resumed, though it felt emptier than before. She spent her mornings tending to small chores around the cottage, her afternoons lost in her crafts, and her evenings staring at the quiet phone, willing it to ring.

She wanted to give Logan space, to let him come to her when he was ready, but the silence was agonizing. The weight of waiting gnawed at her, and though she tried to keep herself busy, the ache of missing him lingered.

“He knows,” Pete assured her, his voice surprisingly gentle. “He’s just too damn stubborn to admit it right now.”

The drive back to the cottage felt longer than usual, the winter landscape passing by in a blur. Evelyn’s mind raced, replaying her conversation with Pete and Rick. Their words had given her a small measure of hope, but the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in her chest.

By the time she reached home, the familiar sight of the cozy cottage brought a semblance of comfort. She slipped inside, the warmth of the woodstove embracing her as she shed her coat and boots. Her gaze drifted to the basket of unfinished crochet pieces sitting by the couch.

With a deep breath, Evelyn settled herself down, picking up the half-finished sweater she had started weeks ago. Her hands moved methodically, the repetitive motion of the hook and yarn soothing her frayed nerves.

Hours turned into days, and the rhythm of her life resumed, though it felt emptier than before. She spent her mornings tending to small chores around the cottage, her afternoons lost in her crafts, and her evenings staring at the quiet phone, willing it to ring.

She wanted to give Logan space, to let him come to her when he was ready, but the silence was agonizing. The weight of waiting gnawed at her, and though she tried to keep herself busy, the ache of missing him lingered.

It wasn’t until a rainy evening, as Evelyn was driving home from a fair out of town, that their paths crossed again. Logan’s truck was idling at an intersection, his expression unreadable as their eyes met through the windshield. Without thinking, she pulled over, her tires skidding slightly in the mud. She threw her truck into park and jumped out, the cold rain immediately soaking through her coat as she ran toward him.

“Logan,” she called, her voice barely audible over the downpour. 

Logan slammed on the brakes, his truck skidding slightly before halting. He stepped out, his gaze finally meeting hers, his eyes shadowed with a mix of anger and hurt. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead, drops clinging to his lashes as he looked at her.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growled, his voice low and sharp.

“I’m trying to fix this,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t stand how things are between us right now.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. “Maybe things are better this way.”

“No,” she said firmly. “They’re not. I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. I’m not letting you leave again. Not without hearing me out.”

“I’ve heard enough.”, he spits out.

Evelyn steps closer, her voice rising over the rain.“No, you haven’t! You think you know what happened, but you don’t! That kiss—it wasn’t me. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing.“Didn’t look like you were pulling away, either.”

“I froze! I didn’t know how to react. But the second I saw you, it was over. I didn’t care about him—I care about you.”, she said looking at him.

He let out a harsh breath, looking away. “Doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change what I saw.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she admitted, tears mixing with the rain. “But it doesn’t mean I didn’t care about how it would hurt you. I love you, Logan. Do you hear me? I love you. And I’m not letting you push me away because of one stupid mistake.”

Logan’s breath catches, his usual walls crumbling under the weight of her words. For a moment, he just stares at her, the rain streaming down his face, a flicker of something raw crossing his face. “Don’t say that,” he muttered. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it,” she said, her voice breaking as tears mixed with the rain streaming down her face. “I love you, and I’m sorry for everything. For not stopping him, for not calling you first. I never wanted to hurt you, Logan. Please believe me.”

For a long moment, they stood there in the rain, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Finally, Logan closed the distance, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her—desperate, hungry, and filled with all the emotions he’d kept bottled up.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting together, Logan exhaled softly. “I love you tooI’ve been alone a long time,” he murmured. “I don’t know if I know how to do this... but I can’t lose you.”

Evelyn smiled through her tears, her hands still cradling his face. “You’re not going to lose me, Logan. We’ll figure it out together.”

The rain continued to pour around them, but in that moment, it felt like the storm had finally passed.

Logan’s eyes searched hers, and without another word, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was deeper, hotter, and filled with all the longing he had tried to suppress. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Evelyn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through his rain-soaked hair, her lips parting to meet his urgency. The rain continued to pour around them, but neither seemed to care. Each kiss was hungrier than the last, the heat between them undeniable despite the cold storm.

Logan’s hands slid up her back, strong and steady, anchoring her as their kiss deepened. When she pressed against him, he let out a low, guttural sound, his restraint slipping. His lips left hers, trailing along her jaw and down her neck, his breath hot against her skin as her head tilted back, exposing more of her to him.

“Maybe we should—” Logan murmured against her neck, his voice rough and uneven.

“Get out of the rain?” she finished breathlessly, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the tension crackling between them. “Yeah. Before we end up with pneumonia.”

They broke apart reluctantly, the air charged as they hurried to his truck. Once inside, the doors slammed shut, the rain pounding against the roof providing a steady rhythm to the silence that followed.

But the moment was far from over. As soon as the doors were locked, Logan reached for her again, pulling her onto his lap. Their lips collided once more, this time with an unrestrained passion that made her shiver. Her hands roamed over his chest, the damp flannel clinging to his broad frame as he held her tightly, his fingers gripping her hips as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

Their movements grew more heated, her hips grinding down against him instinctively as their breathing quickened. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the seat as she moved again, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through both of them.

“Evelyn,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “If we don’t stop now…”

She paused, her forehead pressing to his as they both struggled to catch their breath. The weight of his words hung between them, but neither made a move to pull away.

“Then let’s go,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the flush rising to her cheeks. 

Logan’s hands tightened on her waist, his amber eyes dark with emotion and something deeper. “You sure?”

She nodded, brushing her lips against his once more, softer this time but no less certain. “I’ve never been more sure.”

Without another word, Logan gently lifted her off his lap, his touch lingering as they adjusted themselves. He started the truck, his hand finding hers as they drove through the rain, the tension between them simmering and unresolved—but not for much longer.

The rain hadn’t let up by the time Logan pulled the truck into the clearing by his cabin. The headlights cut through the downpour, illuminating the weathered wood of the small structure nestled among the trees.

Logan killed the engine, turning to glance at Evelyn. Her cheeks were flushed, her damp hair sticking to her neck and temples, but she was staring at him with an intensity that sent a pang through his chest.

“Come on,” he muttered, stepping out of the truck. The cold rain hit him immediately, but he barely noticed as he rounded the vehicle to her side.

Evelyn climbed out, wrapping her arms around herself as the chill seeped through her already soaked clothes. Logan’s hand pressed gently against her back, guiding her toward the cabin. The touch was firm but protective, his warmth cutting through the cold.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of pine and faint smoke. Logan flicked on a single lamp, its amber glow softening the shadows in the small space.

“Go shower,” he said gruffly, already shrugging off his wet flannel and hanging it on a hook near the door. His voice softened as he added, “Don’t want you catching a cold.”

Evelyn hesitated, watching as he bent to stoke the fireplace. The orange flames roared to life under his practiced touch, casting flickering light over his broad shoulders and damp hair.

“What about you?” she asked quietly.

“I’ll dry off,” he replied without looking at her. “Go on. Bathroom’s down the hall.”

She lingered for a moment longer, the warmth of his care sinking into her even if his tone was brusque. Then she nodded and disappeared down the hall.

By the time she returned, the cabin was bathed in a cozy glow. Logan had shed his wet clothes, now dressed in a clean pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He was seated on the couch, his head resting against the back, eyes half-closed as he warmed himself by the fire.

Evelyn paused in the doorway, her heart stuttering at the sight of him. He looked so unguarded, so human, a stark contrast to the stormy, gruff exterior he so often wore.

She was wearing one of his shirts—soft and slightly oversized, the sleeves pushed up over her elbows. Her hair was still damp, and her cheeks held a faint blush.

Logan’s eyes opened as she stepped into the room, and they darkened when they landed on her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet between them carrying all the weight of what had happened that night.

She crossed the room and climbed onto his lap, straddling him without hesitation. Logan stiffened slightly, his hands instinctively resting on her thighs, but he didn’t pull away.

“Evelyn…” he began, his voice low, almost a warning.

“I just want to be close to you,” she whispered, her hands finding his shoulders. “Is that okay?”

Logan’s eyes softened, the tension in his body easing as he exhaled. “Yeah,” he murmured, his hands sliding up to rest on her waist. 

She leaned forward, her forehead pressing gently to his. They sat like that for a moment, the crackling fire filling the silence. Logan’s hands moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she sighed softly, her fingers trailing along the curve of his jaw.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said, his voice rough but sincere.

“I know,” she replied, brushing her lips lightly against his. “But I want this. I want you.”

Logan’s breath hitched as her hands slid beneath his shirt, her fingers grazing his skin with the kind of deliberate, maddening slowness that made his muscles tighten. He caught her wrists, holding them still against his chest as his amber eyes locked onto hers, dark with a mixture of frustration and desire.

“Evelyn,” he rasped, his voice low, like gravel, as though her name alone was enough to unravel him. “Don’t push me unless you mean it.”

Her lips curved—not into a smile, but something softer, something steeped in the kind of certainty he wasn’t sure how to face. “I mean it,” she whispered, her words quiet but carrying the weight of all the times she hadn’t said them before.

Logan’s grip on her wrists loosened, his hands sliding up her arms and pulling her closer as if he couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head, his forehead pressing to hers, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the faint storm still raging outside.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” he murmured, his voice raw, thick with the effort it took to hold himself back.

Her response was immediate, her fingers curling into his shoulders as she tugged him closer. “I’ve waited long enough,” she said, her voice steady despite the way her heart was racing. “Haven’t you?”

The question landed like a punch to his chest. Of course he had. Every glance, every touch, every moment she’d been close enough to feel but not touch—it had all been building to this, wearing him down piece by piece. And now, here she was, not just asking but demanding, her presence overwhelming in a way that left him powerless to resist.

“Damn it, Evelyn,” he growled, his voice barely a whisper as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips captured hers with a ferocity that surprised even him, the kiss deep and unrelenting, years of restraint and denial crumbling in an instant.

She responded in kind, her hands threading into his hair as if she couldn’t get him close enough. Her hips shifted instinctively against his, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest that sent a shiver racing through her.

When he pulled back, it was only far enough to press his forehead to hers, his breath ragged as his hands tightened on her waist. “If we keep going…” His voice was strained, his words a warning that came too late.

Her gaze locked onto his, unwavering. “Then we keep going,” she said simply, her voice soft but resolute. Her hands drifted down to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward in one fluid motion.

Logan let her strip it away, his chest rising and falling heavily as he studied her. His hands hovered at her sides, hesitant, even now. “You sure?” he asked, the question a bare whisper, almost lost in the space between them.

Her answer was to close the gap, her lips brushing his with a gentleness that sent his control spiraling. “I’ve never been more sure,” she murmured, her voice steady even as her fingers traced the faint scars across his chest.

Logan groaned softly, his hands finally moving, sliding up her sides with a reverence that made her heart ache. When he kissed her again, it wasn’t hurried—it was slow, deliberate, as if he was trying to commit every second to memory.

Without a word, he shifted, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her the short distance to the bedroom. He set her down carefully, his hands lingering at her hips as he stood over her, his chest rising and falling with the effort of restraint.

Her hands reached for him again, pulling him down until he was hovering above her, the weight of him grounding her as much as it electrified her. His lips found hers, his kiss deepening as his hands explored her body with a mix of hunger and care.

When her hips rolled against him again, drawing another guttural sound from his throat, Logan pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “If we’re doing this,” he said, his voice a growl softened by something deeper, “I’m not letting you go.”

Her lips curved, her fingers threading into his hair and tugging just enough to make him groan. “Good,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion and desire. “Because I don’t want you to.”

Logan’s eyes locked onto hers, the raw heat in his gaze making her pulse race. He crushed his lips to hers, the kiss no longer gentle but searing, desperate, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

Her hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he pressed her back into the bed. The weight of him was intoxicating, his strength overwhelming yet controlled, as if he were holding himself back by sheer will alone. She wasn’t having it. Her fingers slid down his chest, nails skimming the taut muscles before finding the button of his jeans. With a flick of her wrist, she popped it open, dragging the zipper down with deliberate slowness, savoring the sharp inhale he couldn’t suppress.

Logan growled against her mouth, his breath hot and uneven as he broke the kiss to bury his face in her neck. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin, a teasing bite that made her gasp and arch into him.

Logan’s hands, large and rough, gripped the hem of her shirt and yanked it upward, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. The garment fluttered to the floor, forgotten, as his eyes roamed over her, dark with hunger.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, tempered with a tenderness that made her chest tighten.

Her cheeks burned, her nerves tangling with her desire. “I… I want to,” she whispered, her fingers gripping the edge of his waistband, but her voice trembled despite her conviction. “I just—”

Logan silenced her with a kiss, this one slower, deliberate, as if he were savoring her. When he pulled away, his thumb brushed over her cheek, his expression a mixture of hunger and restraint. “You don’t have to rush anything,” he said softly, his forehead pressing against hers. 

Her heart thudded at his words, and she nodded, her fingers trailing up to his chest, where his heartbeat was steady and strong beneath her touch. 

Logan’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, his hands moving to her waist, steady and sure. 

Her hands trembled as she reached for him, sliding over his chest and down to the waistband of his jeans. “I want to see you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Logan grinned, the expression almost feral, but there was a softness in his gaze as he stood to strip off his jeans and boxers in one smooth motion. When he returned to her, he moved slower, his body warm and solid as he pressed against her.

“Touch me,” he encouraged, his hand guiding hers to explore the ridges of his chest and the lines of his muscles. The heat in his voice was laced with reassurance, and the way he watched her, patient and unhurried, made her boldness grow.

Her fingers mapped his skin, her touch tentative at first, but when he groaned, low and deep, she felt a thrill she couldn’t ignore. “Like that,” he murmured, his hand sliding down her thigh to pull her closer, his touch igniting sparks along her skin.

She tentatively grabbed hold of his thick and veiny penis, wrapping her fingers around him. Logan inhaled sharply at her touch, his jaw tightening momentarily before his expression softened. He placed his hand gently over hers, guiding her movements with slow precision.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice low and husky. 

Evelyn’s blush deepened, but she didn’t pull away, her curiosity outweighing her hesitation. She watched his face, captivated by the way his brows furrowed slightly, his lips parting as she followed his lead. Her movements were clumsy at first, uncertain, but Logan’s patience never wavered.

"Good," he whispered, his voice laced with encouragement. "You're perfect."

The praise sent a shiver through her, and she felt a growing confidence in her actions. Logan leaned down, kissing her deeply, his hand sliding from hers to cup her cheek once more, anchoring her in the moment.

“Logan,” she breathed, her voice shaky but filled with trust.

"May I?" he asked, his fingers toying with the delicate fabric of her panties.

Evelyn nodded, her breath catching as he began to slide the garment down her legs. His eyes never left hers, even as he rid her of the last barrier between them. Once she was bare beneath him, Logan took a moment to simply look at her, his gaze reverent.

Logan let his hands smooth over her thighs slowly opening them up, her arousal glistening in the low light of the room.

“Don’t be scared”, he whispered as he lowered himself coming face to face with her sex. “You smell so good.”, he said, nuzzling the skin of her inner thigh.

Logan peppered kisses over her mound and inner thigh’s, whie his hand snaked up to grab hold of her right breast and gave it a good squeeze.

Logan gave a kiss to her clit eliciting a moan to erupt from deep within. He took that as a sign to keep going, the hand that was on her breast trailed down her belly and stopped when it came in contact with her pussy. His index and pointer finger lowered down to her glistening hole collecting her arousal and spreading it around. Evelyn gasped and his tongue ran a single long line across her slit to her bud,making her shiver at the foreigner feeling.

“Logan…” she moaned.

“Tell me what you want.” he answered, his breath fanning over her hole.

“More of that, please.” 

He took her plea as an incentive to keep going. His tongue replaced his thumb, slowly circling her clit  and occasionally dipping it to her hole.

Evelyn's legs closed instinctively around his head as her moans became incrinsingly louder.

“Feel good?” he asked rhetorically.

She nodded looking down at him and biting her lip.

His index finger started to circle her hole as his tongue remained focused on her clit, carefully dipping it in, until his hand came in full contact with her pussy.

Evelyn moaned at the intrusion but welcomed it. Logan started to slowly pump it in and out, creating a steady rhythm.

Evelyn started to moan softly, and at that Logan decided to add another finger. 

“Oh God…”she moaned as his fingers pumped easily in and out of her. 

Her hand clasped around his arm as he began opening her hole “Logan…”

He positioned himself above her, continuing to pump his fingers. He licked her lips and gently bit her bottom lip pulling it slowly.

Evelyn, taken over by the overwhelming feeling, grabbed hold of his arm.”Logan…”, she moaned.

Logan could feel her walls tightening around his fingers and incresead the spead,making sure to stimulate her clit with his thumb.

A loud moan erupted from Evelyn as she came hard.

Content with this work, Logan retrieved his fingers from her hole and, staring at her eyes, sucked his fingers clean.

“So good,” he said as he laid between her legs.

Evelyn blushed at his words and pulled him in for a kiss. Logan laid his hips over hers, allowing for his manhood to come in direct contact with her pussy. As the kiss grew hungrier, their hips started to move, creating friction, allowing for moans to erupt on both ends.

Logan, without breaking the kiss, pulled his hips back, allowing for him to line himself with Evelyn's entry. He began to slowly push in, feeling the resistance slowly ease.

Evelyn gasped in his mouth, as she felt him bottom out.

Logan rested his forehead on hers and intertwined their fingers above her head.

“How are you feeling?”he asked, looking for any sign of discomfort.

“Full,” she said breathlessly.

He shifted his hips slightly, giving her time to adjust, his hand caressing the curve of her waist to steady her. Evelyn gasped again, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as her body adjusted to the stretch and fullness.  

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Logan said softly, his voice carrying both reassurance and patience.  

“I just… I need a moment.”she replied breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.  

Logan nodded, leaning down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there. He stayed still, allowing her to acclimate to the new sensation. His fingers remained intertwined with hers, their grip grounding her in the moment.  

When Evelyn shifted her hips experimentally, a soft sigh escaping her lips, Logan took it as a sign to move. Slowly, he began to withdraw before easing back in, his movements controlled and deliberate. He watched her face closely, his sharp eyes scanning for any trace of discomfort, but all he found was awe and the growing haze of pleasure.  

Evelyn’s breaths came in short gasps, her lips parting as she met his thrusts tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence. The connection between them deepened with every movement, the air heavy with shared vulnerability and trust.  

“You’re doing so good,” Logan praised, his voice rough yet tender as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips brushing her skin.  

Her hands tightened around his, her head tilting back into the pillows as soft moans spilled from her lips. “Logan… oh, Logan…” she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of astonishment and need.  

He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips, his pace quickening slightly as he felt her relax around him. Their bodies moved together, finding a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. The heat between them built steadily, the tension mounting as every thrust brought them closer to the edge.  

“You're so tight and wet- Fuck” he rasped, his voice thick as he pressed his forehead to hers once more.  

Logan's hand left hers to brush a strand of damp hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her flushed cheek. “I got you baby,” he whispered, his tone reverent.  

One of his hands made its way down, and Logan began circling her bundle of nerves.

“Yes! Oh, my God, yes!” Evelyn cried as her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders for stability, as she felt herself overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He smiled looking at her. “Look… Look at how good we fit together - shit” he moaned.

Evelyn looked down, and was amazed at the sight, his thick and veiny member covered in her slick going in and out of her, the motion creacting a creamy white ring at the base of his manhood. 

“Logan,” she said moaned.

Logan speed up, the sound of slapping skin feeling the room.

“It's okay baby, let it happen.” He leaned down and kissed her with a bruising force.

Evelyn moans filled the room.

She looked deep in his eyes and took hold of his hair. 

Oh

Oh

She tugged on his hair as she came hard around him, the bed beneath her shaking.

Logan growled as his tip bumped into her cervix, the extra lubrication helped him dive even deeper. 

“Sh-it!” He cursed as he felt her walls contracting around him urging his release.

Logan moaned deeply as his penis throbbed, spilling his seed deep inside of Evelyn’s velvety walls.

The new sensation made her eyes roll to the back of her head. It was something so deeply intimate and messy.

Logan collapsed on top of her. They were still both breathless as he lifted his head and looked at her.

“You okay?” He asked breathlessly as placed a soft kiss on her lips.

Evelyn smiled against his mouth, her arms still wrapped loosely around his shoulders. “More than okay,” she murmured, her voice carrying a mix of awe and teasing.

He smiled gently, lifting himself off her, to pull out his member from her.  He growled at the sight of their conjoined release coming out of her achy hole.

Logan laid beside her, his chest rising and falling in time with her soft breaths. Evelyn rested her head against him, her hand splayed over his heart as though it belonged there. The warmth of her body pressed into his, and he tightened his arm around her, pulling her impossibly closer.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing evening out as sleep began to claim her. Logan let his fingers trail lightly along her back, his touch lingering, savoring the moment.

For a long while, he simply stayed there, listening to her breathe, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. 

Eventually, his own eyes began to grow heavy, his mind and body at ease in a way he’d never thought possible. With Evelyn tucked safely against him, he let himself give in, falling into the pull of sleep.

Together, they drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber, tangled in each other’s arms, exactly where they were meant to be.

Chapter 8

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[janicho88]

Know When To Let Go Part 1

Pairing- Dean, x Female!Reader. 

Word count- 3,889

Warnings- A lot of ANGST, Dean is a bit of jerk, fighting,

Summary- You almost lost Dean to a heart attack, now after one phone call there is another threat from the past that could come between you two.

A/N-I know this isn't one of my ongoing series, but this has been in my drafts for years. The first 2 parts are a rewrite of the Route 66 episode. I'm trying to get back into writing, I promise. It's been so long since I've posted, I'm not even sure what to use for a taglist so I'm going off the last Forever tag list. If you would like to be removed let me know. Not Beta'd, all mistakes are mine

Sitting in the back of Baby, you think back on this last week, it was one of the worst of your life.  During the last hunt Dean had been electrocuted which led to him having a heart attack.  Doctors didn’t give him much time, you and Sam worked like crazy looking for some way to save him.  Finally, Sam found a faith healer, which turned into another case on its own.  Now, Dean was in the motel room saying goodbye to the chick he met on this job.  Sam was kind enough to bring her back to talk to Dean.  No, you weren’t jealous at all, but does he seriously have to meet a girl in every town you stop in?

Your parents had been hunters and would drop you off at Bobby’s, which is where you met Sam and Dean as kids. Dean was a year older, and had taken you under his wing.  When you were twelve, your parents never made it back from a hunt.  You lived with Bobby until you turned 18, then you started hunting with the Winchester instead of researching at Bobby’s. Sam was like a little brother to you, even if he shot up taller than all of you.  Dean was your best friend and as you grew up, he was the man who stole your heart.  You never saw him sharing those feelings so you kept them bottled up.  This left you standing by and watching, the constant hookups and flirting breaking your heart a little more each time.  Sam has known since you were kids there was something between you and Dean, and often pushes you to tell his brother.  You could never bring yourself to do it, and in turn, lose Dean altogether.  

You were there for Dean through everything, the rough hunts, Sam leaving for Stanford, fights with his dad, then John disappearing a few months ago which led to picking up Sam who then lost Jess.  You couldn’t imagine what losing Dean last week would have done to you.  When he was in the hospital, you came close to telling him how you felt when he was holding you next to him in the tiny hospital bed.  The two of you had gotten fairly close over the last case, but once again someone else had caught his eye. 

The three of you stop at a gas station when Dean gets a phone call and walks off.  Sam is standing next to the car looking over a map to plan your route to Pennsylvania, where your next case is. Dean starts heading back to the car putting his phone away.  

“I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here.  We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought,” Sam calls out.

Dean looks out over the car before turning to the two of you, “Problem is, we’re not going to Pennsylvania”

You and Sam look at each other before looking at Dean.  “Where are we going then?” You ask.

“I got a call from an, uh, old friend.  Her father was killed last night, thinks it might be our kind of thing.”

“What? Who’s the friend?” Sam wanted to know.

“Listen, trust me on this, she never woulda called, never, if she didn’t need us.”

There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, “who is the friend Dean?” He just ignores you and hops in the car.

As you were driving Sam again tries to get Dean to tell him who the old friend is.  You are headed to Mississippi, which gives you a pretty good idea of who this friend is and you are livid. 

Dean finally says the name you are dreading, Cassie.  You had been traveling with Dean when he met her in Ohio, and they had gone out for a few weeks.  You didn’t like her then and you really didn’t like her the night Dean came back to the hotel drunk and heartbroken because she ended things.  She was a stuck up snob, she absolutely crushed Dean. 

“She actually had the nerve to call you and ask for help?” you exclaim. Unfeaking believable, and apparently Dean is still pretending he can’t hear you.

“You never mentioned her before,” Sam is telling Dean.

“Really?” When Sam just looks at him Dean continues, “ Yeah, we went out.”

“Like more than one night?  You actually dated somebody?”

“What are you not getting here?  Dad, Y/N, and I were working a job in Ohio, she was in college.  

We went out for a couple of weeks.”

“What happened between you guys?”

“Drop it Sam,”  you really didn’t want to dig up this part of the past.

“Was there more going on?” The dense man kept pushing.

“Yeah, they went out. She was a bitch, they broke up, it broke his heart, and I had to fix her mess.”

“Knock it off, Y/N.  That was years ago, and in the past.”  Now he acknowledges you, just to  defend her.  He couldn’t still have feelings for her could he?

“Okay.  So I’m sorry about her dad, but why would she call you if he was in a car accident?  Not really our kinda thing?” It took Sam a minute, “wait, does she know what we do?”  Dean didn’t answer staring ahead. “Dude, you didn’t?”

“He actually told the bitch what we really do, Sam.”

“Watch it Y/N.” Dean gives you a glare through the rearview mirror, and you give one right back.   

Sam looks at you curiously. You aren’t usually one for hate unless they deserve it. 

“Wait. You told her. You told her our secret! Our big family number one rule, we do what we do and we shut up about it.  I never said a word about it to Jess for over a year and a half, instead I lied to her. But you tell some girl you only knew a few weeks, everything.”  Dean still didn’t answer, just looking straight ahead.  “Dean!” 

“Yeah, looks like.”  He just pushed down on the accelerator ignoring Sam’s bitchface.

“Witch, didn’t deserve to know anything,”  you muttered under your breath.  Judging by the glare Dean sends back he still heard you.

There isn’t much talking between any of you after that. You arrive in town and Dean parks near the newspaper building and quickly exits the car.  Guess she told him where she works.  

Walking inside you see three people arguing and unfortunately recognize one of them as Cassie. One of the men leaves and the other walks away when Cassie turns to face the three of you, giving Dean a grin and calling out his name. Dean gives her a small grin.  Why is she so happy? She's the one who dumped him.  Oh she just made you fuming mad. 

“Hey Cassie.” She doesn’t say anything and they just stare at each other before Dean continues.  “This is my brother Sam, and you remember Y/N.”  

You would be pretty shocked if she didn’t remember you.  After calming Dean down and he finally passed out that night, you went to her apartment and bitched her out. Which is probably why she smiled at Sam and ignored you.

“I’m sorry bout your dad,” Dean started.

“Yeah, Me too,” she answers.

 Well, she does talk.  This staring is driving you nuts.  “You called Cassie, apparently you think you need our help.”

“I didn’t know you would still be around.” She quickly glances at you before going back to Dean, “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“Well, I don’t desert the people I care about.”

Dean glares at you as everyone leaves the building and walks back to the Impala to follow her to her mother’s house.  When she gets in her car Dean grabs your arm stopping you.  “That’s enough out of you! You don’t have to be such a bitch, you know.”

He climbs behind the wheel of Baby, and you roll your eyes before sliding in yourself. 

Cassie brings out tea when you arrive, she settles down close to Dean. She tells you all how her mother has been in bad shape, so she was staying at the house with her.  She has been very nervous lately and worried about her husband.  When Dean asks why, Cassie mentions her dad had been scared and seeing things, like an awful-looking black truck following him.  Sam interrupts to ask who the driver was, but apparently her dad never mentioned one.  The truck was always appearing and disappearing.  Her father’s car had been dented in the accident, and it looks like something big. 

You’ve been watching Dean, and have to hide a laugh when he is giving his tea a weird look before quickly putting it aside on the table. You turn your attention back to what Cassie is saying.  The sooner you solve this, the sooner you can leave this town. 

“Dad sold cars, and was always driving a new one. There wasn’t a scratch on it before the accident.  It was raining hard that night, and mud was everywhere.  There was one distinct set of muddy tracks which led from dad’s car to the edge where he went over.”  She paused trying to gain control of her emotions, “only his tracks.”

“The first accident, he was a friend of your father’s?” Dean asks her.

“Yes, Clayton Soames, they were best friends, and owned the dealership together.  Same thing, a dent, no tracks, and the cops said he lost control too.”

Dean wants to know if she has any thoughts on why the two men would have been targets, but she doesn’t. Then Sam asks her if she thought it was the vanishing truck her dad saw.

“When you say it out loud like that, listen, I’m a bit skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys do.”

“Skeptical?  If I remember right you said I was nuts.”

“If you don’t believe it, why did you bother calling Cassie?”  You cut in after Dean.  Getting another glare from the man. 

“That was back then, I just can’t explain what happened so I called you.” Her and Dean are back to staring at each other, I just might be sick you think. 

“Excuse us a second,”  Dean gets up and grabs your arm, pulling you out of your seat across from him and to the corner of the room.  “If you aren’t actually going to be any help you can leave, and go wait in the car.”

Before you can reply, Cassie’s mom walks in and she gets up to talk to her.  Dean walks away leaving you standing alone.  She introduces Dean as a friend from college and Sam as his sibling, you get nothing.  Sam sees you hurry outside trying to hide the tears in your eyes, he knows Dean’s behavior has to be getting to you.  Excusing himself he follows you outside.

“Sam, you are always telling me I need to be honest with Dean about my feelings.  This is why I can’t, he’ll choose some chick who hurt him over me, the person who has been there for him for over 15 years.”  Dean comes out and you turn away from him quickly.

“I don’t understand what your problem is, but that was unnecessary,” he snaps at you. 

The three of you head back to the motel shortly.  It is a quiet ride back, you and Dean aren’t speaking to one another, and Sam doesn’t want to get either of you going. Usually, you share a bed with Dean, but that isn’t going to happen tonight.  At least the room has a couch, as bad as it looks it is still better than the floor.

Early the next morning Dean’s phone rang waking you up from the little sleep you had gotten.  It’s Cassie, apparently someone else died during the night, same way as the others.  Dean is hurrying both you and Sam to get ready and out the door. When you arrive at the scene Cassie is talking to one of the men from yesterday.  Dean is quick to walk over, you and Sam following behind. 

“Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy’s car, see if it was pushed?”

The man looked at Dean then back to Cassie, “Who is this?”

“Dean and Sam Winchester, and… his friend Y/N, they’re family friends.  This is Mayor Harold Todd.”

“There is one set of tracks, just one. Nothing points to foul play here.”

“Mayor, the police, officials, everyone is taking their cues from you, if you are indifferent about this then..”

“Indifferent!” He interrupts her

“Mayor, would you close the road if the victims were white?”

“Are you suggesting I’m racist Cassie, I’m the last person you should talk to like that.”

When Cassie tries to find out why, he just tells her to ask her mother and walks away. 

From there Dean drives you all back to the motel room to change into fed clothes.  While in the bathroom getting ready you can hear the boys talking, well Sam at least trying to get information from Dean about Cassie

. 

“I’ll say this for her, she’s fearless,” Sam starts, Dean just humming.  “I bet she kicked your ass a few times.  It’s interesting you guys never look at each other at the same time.  You look when she isn’t and she checks you out when you aren’t.  It’s an interesting observation you know, in an observationally interesting way.”

Just shut-up about her Sam, you think to yourself. “You think we might have more pressing issues here?” Dean finally responds.

“Hey, if I’m hitting a nerve.”

“Y/N, hurry up we’re leaving, let’s go,” Dean yells for you.

You leave for the docks to talk to a few guys who are friends of the victims, Cassie has mentioned they would be there having lunch.

“Excuse me.  Are you Ron Stubbins?”  You asked, reaching the two men first. When he nods, Dean takes over talking.

“You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?”

“Who wants to know?” Ron counters.

“We’re with Mr. Anderson’s insurance company, got to dot the I’s and cross some T’s.”

“We were just wondering if the deceased had mentioned any unusual experiences recently?” Sam cut in.

The men are looking at the three of you funny so you step in, “Well visions, hallucinations.  It’s part of a medical examination kind of thing.  This is all standard.”

“It takes three of you to come down?  What company did you say you were with?”

“I’m new, these guys are training me.”

“All National Mutual,” Dean cut in.  “Can you tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?”

“What the hell are you all talking about?  You even speaking English?” Ron asks.

“Son this truck, is it a big scary monster looking thing?”  The man with Ron cut in.

“Yeah, actually, I think so.”  Dean answers him.  The man just nods.  “What about it?”

“I’ve heard of a truck like that,” he finally answers.. 

That gets Sam’s attention, “You have, Where?”

“Not a where, but a when, son. Back in the ‘60’s there was a string of deaths.  Black men.  Story goes they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.”

“Did they ever catch the guy?” Dean wants to know.

“No, never found him.  Hell, not sure if they even really looked.  See there was a time, this town wasn’t too friendly to all its citizens.” 

“Thank you for your time,” you tell the men as the three of you turn to walk back to the Impala.  

The guys start talking while you follow behind. 

“This truck,” Dean starts.

“Keeps coming up doesn't it?” Sam fills in.

“You know, I was thinking.  You heard of the flying dutchman?” Dean asks his brother.

“That ghost ship?  It was infused with the captain’s evil spirit, and basically part of him.”

“What if this is like the same thing here? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard’s ghost, that is re-enacting past crimes?”

“Could be, the victims have all been black men.”

“It’s more than that, everything seems to be connected to Cassie and her family.”

“It’s all, all about Cassie,” you mutter under your breath, but apparently not low enough again.

“What is your deal?” Dean turns to you, “you have been a nag ever since I told you we were coming here!  All these stupid little comments.  What the hell is your problem?”

“You really have to ask me what my problem is?  You are so blinded by what you once felt for her.  I was there with you Dean, when things ended, I know how much she hurt you.  I absolutely hate her, and so did you before yesterday.”

“She hurt me, me, not you.  I never asked for you to help me, it’s not up to you how I handle this.  My life doesn’t concern you, stay out of it!  Grow up Y/N, I’m sick and tired of your attitude.”

“Maybe it’s just time I did get out of it.  If I’m gone then I can’t interfere in your life anymore.”

“Maybe that would be a great idea.  I’m over the way you’ve been lately.”

“Fine, after this case, I’m out of your hair.”

“Best thing you’ve said all case.”

“Alright guys, let’s just calm down,” Sam tries to intervene before it blows up, turning to Dean,  “you go work that angle with Cassie and her family, talk to her”

“Yeah, I will.”  Dean throws a glare your way when he answers.

“You might also wanna mention that other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“The unfinished business between you two. Dean, what is going on between you?”

You can’t listen so you walk away to calm yourself down.

“Maybe, we were a bit more involved than I said before.” Sam just stares at him.  “Okay so a lot more. I told her our secret, what’s out there and what we do.  I shouldn’t have.”

“Come on man, everyone needs to open up to someone at some point.”

“No, I don’t.  It was stupid of me to get that close. Just look how it ended.”

“Is that what’s wrong with Y/N?  How bad this thing ended with you and Cassie?”

“I don’t know what the hell her problem is, but she needs to get over it fast.”

“Did you love her?”

“Y/N? She’s my best friend, dude I can’t.”

“I meant Cassie, but good to know your mind goes there first.”

“No, didn’t. I’m leaving.”

“You did love her, and you dumped her.”  Sam watches Dean for a minute, “Wait, she dumped you?”

Dean walked over to the Impala’s door, “Just get in the car, get in the car.”

“What about Y/N?”  Sam asks, getting in and looking around for you.

“She can walk back, maybe it will cool her down.”

You walked around the corner trying to calm yourself down and keep the tears at bay.   When you are turning to go back you see the Impala speed by.  They seriously left you here?  Dean really did want you gone. Looking down, you are glad you didn’t grab the heeled shoes, at least this pair wasn't awful for walking. 

You turn back around and start the thirty minute walk to the motel.  This time you can’t stop the tears from falling.  You have loved Dean for years, and been his best friend even longer.  You want to be there for Dean. You were best friends, wasn’t that how it was supposed to be?  If you  are honest with yourself, you would know it was more than that, he was it for you.  It was clear lately, you're not the one for him.  Apparently you mean nothing to him.  Years ago, when he was hurt by Cassie, he changed and didn’t let anyone, even you get as close as he used to.  Maybe you should get your own room tonight, and start adjusting to being on your own.  This case couldn’t wrap up fast enough for you to get out of this town. 

You arrive back at the motel and the Impala is nowhere to be seen.  Either they aren’t back yet, or Dean dropped Sam off and went to her.  Heading to the room you plan to grab your things and get another room.  Opening the door you think you are alone, until Sam walks out of the bathroom. 

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re back, I’m sorry Dean left without you.”

“Don’t worry about it Sam, he obviously isn’t.

”

“What is going on with you two?”

“I think we have just had enough of each other.”

“It’s more than that.”

You let out a sigh before turning to sit on the bed.  “Dean doesn’t think straight around Cassie, he never has.  I don’t want to see him hurt again, because I know she will.  He changed the minute he got her call.”

“When are you going to tell my brother you are in love with him?”

“I’m not Sam, I told you last night, he doesn’t share those feelings.  Hell, he wants me gone, out of his life, and maybe that isn’t a bad idea.”

“What are you saying?”

“Our friendship is barely hanging on by a thread, I’m not going to cut that final one by telling him how I feel.  He wouldn’t wait for this case to even be over before he made me leave.  It’s clear I’ve overstayed my welcome with you two.”  

“No, you haven’t.  I think we all just need a break after this.  You and Dean aren’t thinking straight right now.”

“I’m going to grab another room. I don’t think we need the three of us in one tonight.”

“You don’t need to do that.” 

“It would be better if...”

“No,” Sam cuts you off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, but Dean is with Cassie, we need to figure out how this relates back to her family. I don’t know when he’ll even get back tonight, so don’t worry about another room. Everything will be back to normal in a day or two.”

“Sam, I’m leaving when this case is over.  I need to be on my own for a bit.  You will always be my not so little, little brother, but I can’t stay around him anymore.

Y/N, come on.  It’s just a fight, you guys will be fine in a few days.

“I’m going to hit the shower.”  You don’t want him to try and talk you out of this decision.  

Walking into the bathroom you quickly turn on the water so Sam won’t hear you cry.  After 18 years of friendship this is where you finally part ways from the man who has been there for you since he was 8 years old. Dean doesn’t want you around and you can’t keep watching him sleep with all those other women.  The knife in your chest twists a little more every time.  Getting out of the shower you get ready for bed, sleeping on the couch again because you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep in the bed that smells like Dean, even if it would be the last time.  You know Sam is asleep and you don’t fight the tears that surface once again.

Part 2-coming soon

Thank you for reading!

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[faghubby]

LOVE AND HATE

"Karen I know I fucked up, but I really need this job" I pleaded as Karen didn't even look up from her screen. I hated this woman ever since she took over the department four weeks ago. She has been a total slave driver. Nothing was good enough, fast enough. But this time it was my mistake. I had meant to send her the invoices but instead had sent them out to clients without approval. More importantly some where wrong. Big time wrong!

Karen rolled her chair back and removed her shoes. She rubbed her stocking feet. I don't know why maybe out of desperation I knelt and rubbed her feet for her. I looked up at her and she had an odd look on her face but let me continue. The more I rubbed the more relaxed she became. I looked up again. Her legs spread wide I could see her white panties under her pantyhose. She raised her one foot and touched my face with it. I parted my lips and she pushed her toes into my mouth. I sucked her toes. I was a happily married mother of two. And now I was sucking my bosses foot. I had a lesbian experience in school but it was just a collage thing.

I looked up again Karen's skirt was bunched around her waist and she rubbed herself thru the pantyhose and panties. I sucked on one foot her other pressed against my breasts. Preasure from her foot tore a button free. Exposing my plain white bra. Suddenly Karen stood she pulled her pantyhose and panties down together kicking them under her desk. Her feet firmly on the ground I was staring straight at her shaved pussy.

"Come on, we don't want you to make another mistake" she said speaking for the first time since I had entered her office. I swallowed and leaned in. The smell of her wet pussy was intoxicating. Forbidden, naughty, I could feel my own panties getting damp. I kissed her lips. Then ran my tounge along the inside of them. I loved my pussy eaten and did all the things I loved being done to me. Her hand played with my hair as I licked and sucked her cunt. The more I did the more excited I became. She moved her foot the top of her foot sliding across my crotch. I so wanted to rip off my slacks to feel more then just pressure. Suddenly Karen held my hair tight her thighs tightend around my head. As she came I lapped up her juices. My face coated in them as she let me go.

"I think we can manage to fix this problem with some good old fashion hard work" Karen informed me. I stood. And she smacked my ass.

"Don't you think so Lisa?" She asked me.

"Yes ma'am" I replied. She handed me a file and excused me. I raced to the restroom. Washing my face. Before returning to my desk. The file was empty. Obviously a ruse to fool anyone seeing me leaving her office.

"So are you canned?" Francine asked popping into my cubicle.

"No, she was very understanding. I mean I don't think it's over but for now" I told her. Francine smiled

"Glad to hear that not sure who I would gossip with if you where gone" she laughed.

"Everyone" I shot back she just laughed. God I was so horny sitting at my desk. This wasn't over. How often would she expect. I was cheating on Tom. But I needed this job. I tried to focus on work.

I got an email from Karen.

EVERYTHING AND YES EVERYTHING WILL COME ACROSS MY DESK BEFORE IT GETS FORWARDED TO ANYONE.

I went home that night not knowing what to do, should I confess to Tom? Quit? At home I settled into routine almost forgetting about what had happened today. That night I attacked Tom. I needed him. He fucked me good. But the whole time I had Karen in my head,

I went to work early, I had to show I was willing to work hard to make up for the fuck up. I was surprised to see Karen's light on in her office her door open.

"LISA, COULD YOU COME IN HERE PLEASE" she called out she must of seen me come in.

"Close the door" she said without looking up.

"You have a very talented mouth, if your work was even half as professional you would have my job" she told me. I went to respond but she motioned for me to remain silent.

"Did you have sex with your husband last night?" She asked

"I don't see how that is any of your business" I said she looked up at me. I fell silent looked down

"Yes" I replied.

"Did you tell him you prefer woman?" Karen asked walking around the desk. I shook my head not looking at her.

"Did your parents spank you as a child?" She asked her hand running up my arm then to my back.

"I guess when I misbehaved" I said softly.

"Bend over the desk, and lift your skirt" she told me. I hesitated bit did as she said.

"I don't want you having sex with your husband any more" she told me. Then smacked my panty covered ass.

"You will learn you are mine now" she said adding to more blows. They where hard but not unbearable. "You gossip with Francine and others, that stops now" she smacked me three more times.

"I like this skirt. No more slacks. I prefer easy access" she told me adding another smack. "Tea with lemon every day at 8am" she told me adding another smack. She reached down and felt my damp panties.

"You like this don't you slut" she smacked me three more times. She opened my blouse holding me so I didn't stand up straight her hand reached inside my bra massaging my breasts.

"Not to big, I like that" I got another smack. Then another. "Kneel and kiss my ass to thank me. I dropped to my knees and lifted her dress. She wore a black thong. I kissed each ass cheek. She pulled the thong aside.

"Now give me a long deep kiss" Karen said I drove my tounge against her asshole. She let out a little laugh.

"You can go back to your desk" she said dismissing me. Everyone else was starting to arrive I realized it was almost 8 and rushed to make her tea. I knocked softly at exactly 8 on her door. She motioned for me to enter. She was on the phone. I set the tea and turned to leave.

"You are excused" she said I nodded understanding I was not to leave until she did from that point on. I went back to my desk and focused on work. No gossiping or goofing off. Francine made a comment but let it go. It was Friday afternoon. I figured I had the weekend to try and fix whatever this was. Bit did I want it fixed. She wasn't wrong it all excited me very much. Just before I was getting ready to leave Karen called me back into her office.

"I want you to come by my house tomarrow at noon" she told me handing me a card with her home address on the back.

"Karen" I started she looked uo at me sharply.

"Ma'am I can't, I mean my family" I tried to explain.

"Noon, expect to be late for dinner" she told me motioning her hand as excusing me. I left her office what would I tell Tom?

I told Tom over dinner about the mistake at work, and how I had to work tomarrow afternoon to fix it. He hugged me and told me it would all work out, I loved this man. I hated lying to him.

I spent the morning with the kids then left to go to Karen's house. I rang the bell. She lived in a new Condo not far from the office. She answered the door. She wore a white satin robe. That seemed to be it.

"Strip, everything even your jewelry" she told me as I stood in her entryway. I didn't hesitate till I got to my wedding ring. But put it in a bowl on her table.

"Bend over" she ordered I bent over the little table she rubbed cool lube on my asshoke then pushed something hard inside. I had never had anyone. I mean I just never. She led me to her living room. She pointed to the floor I knelt down.

"You are a submissive little slut" Karen told me. She let her robe open.

"Eat my ass" she told me. I wasn't sure. I didntnwant to. But she bent over the couch and I licked her ass. My tounge slid in easily.

"This will be about my pleasure" Karen told me. She had me stop. "That doesn't mean you won't recieve pleasure it just means you will when it pleases me" she produced a large plastic cock attached to a harness. I watched as she fitted it on one end sliding into her. The larger end jutting towards me. She tightened the straps.

"Let's do this in the bedroom" she had me crawl following her.

"Ma'am that's just very large" I said worried.

"No worries you will get used to being stretched, used, filled" she told me as she bent me over an odd padded bench. She rubbed the tip of her toy against me. Then pushed alittle in. It hurt a bit as it stretched me open. She worked it slow. Having me adjust as she worked the monster toy inside my cunt.

"Half way, slut. Ever had something this big inside you?" She laughed. "6 inches so far. But it's all about the girth isn't it slut" she smacked my ass and thrust more into me. I moaned and cried as she did. She pushed on the plug in my ass as well. It took 15 minutes for her to get all 12 inches of her massively thick cock buried in my pussy. Only then did she start to fuck me. I came almost immediately. But she didn't even slow down ficking me like a machine for over an hour. I came twice more before she was finished. I was exhausted as she removed her "cock"

In my weakened state I didn't even move as she attached nipple clamps attached by a chain to me and led me to her bed with them she laid on the bed and pushed me between her thighs. I licked and sucked her cunt. Like I had before I made her cum twice. She then led me back to her front door. Allowed me to get dressed but not remove the plug.

"This one you can wear to work on Monday" Karen said handing me a larger plug. I went to leave when she pulled me close and kissed me hard before she let me go again. I left and drove straight home.

I hated this woman, but was drawn to her. She gave me more pleasure then I had ever had in my whole life. That night I made an excuse not to have sex with Tom. I still wore the plug until it was time for bed.

I tried to focus on my family Sundsy, but snuck off to work the bigger plug in myadd. It felt huge. I knew Karen would not except an excuse for not wearing it on Monday. After supper I couldn't take it anymore and dragged Tom into the bedroom.

"Take me, spank me" I moaned.

"Baby the kids are" he started as I stripped naked. He tossed me on the bed. It was a quicky but took the edge off. I attacked Tom again after the kids where asleep.

"What has gotten into you? Not complaining" he laughed. I went to work Monday morning plug I'm my ass. I wore a red thing with a push up red lace bra. Tom had bought it for me as a birthday present for himself. Now I wore it for the woman I hated most in my life. I knocked meekly on Karen's door. Again early before anyone was in yet.

"Come in" Karen called out.

"You had sex with your husband didn't you?" She said immediately. I lowered my eyes.

"Younsucked his dick too" she told me.

"Yes ma'am I did" I said barely above a whisper. She walked over and started to undress me.

"What's this whore panties" Karen scoffed

"I thought you like them" I wimpered. She grabbed hold of the waist band and tore them off of me. I was naked before her. She lifted her skirt she wore the strapon she had used on Saturday. She pushed me over her desk and removed the plug. She lubed her toy and pushed into my ass. I screamed as it penatrated my ass. She didn't stop she pounded away on my ass. I cried and wiggled trying to get her to stop. But she kept going. I was exhausted when she finally stopped. I could hear people outside the office it was after 8.

"You called in sick today, you will spend the day serving me" Karen told me. Pushing me under the desk she took off her shoes. I rubbed her feet as she worked. Her personal assist came in and briefed her but I didn't stop hidden by the old style desk. Karen used the bathroom at one point when she returned she wore no panties. Without being told I buried my face between her legs. She continued to work. Until I made her cum. Only then didnshe pause.

"You're just a dirty slut, will let anyone fuck you" Karen told me. At lunch she took to her private bathroom and had me ride her "cock" as she sat on the toilet. I tried my best to be quiet. After everyone had left . She pulled out a paddle and spanked me. For being a slut, spending the whole day naked under her desk. Sucking her toes. I was in tears. My ass so sore I couldn't sit. As collapsed on the floor.

"You will never have a man again" she told me I just nodded. I went home and confessed everything to Tom. He was furious and told me to get out. With no where to go I knocked on Karen's door. She just opened it and let me in. She held me all night as I cried in her arms. In the morning she pusher me between her legs. I knew I would never leave her.

[cheynovak]

Blind date

One shot story

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Y/N F/reader

Summary: Y/N is Carla's best friend and ER doctor who transfered to Big sky Montana. Beau and Y/N where set up on a blind date, one thing leads to another that leads to complications.

Warnings: 18+, smut, talk of sex, keeping secrets, ...

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Sharing/Linking and comments are appreciated.

This story does not follow the original timeline of the series.

Y/N stepped into the dimly lit bar, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on the small white rose resting in a vase on the table near the back. She let out a quiet sigh, adjusting the strap of her purse as she made her way over. Her coworkers had insisted on setting her up on this blind date, promising her it would be a great way to meet someone new in Big Sky.

But as she approached, the man sitting at the table finally looked up, and her stomach dropped.

"Beau?" she blurted out, stopping in her tracks.

Beau Arlen, her best friend Carla’s ex-husband, sat there looking just as surprised as she felt. He glanced at the rose on the table, then back at her, clearing his throat.

"Y/N," he greeted, getting up from his chair.

She let out a short laugh, more out of disbelief than anything, before nodding toward the flower. "I guess you’re my date."

Beau exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, looks like it."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. It wasn’t that they didn’t know each other—far from it. Y/N had known Beau for years through Carla. He wasn’t just some stranger her coworkers had picked out for her; he was someone she never expected to sit across from on a date.

She finally slid into the chair across from him, arching a brow. "So… do we just call this off now, or do we at least order a drink first?"

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, I came here expecting to have dinner with someone, so… might as well make the most of it, right?"

Y/N tilted her head, considering. Maybe this didn’t have to be weird. Maybe they could just have a casual dinner and laugh about it later.

"Alright, Arlen," she said, flagging down the bartender. "But you’re buying the first round."

Beau smirked. "Deal."

Their conversation was casual but fun, filled with easy banter and shared stories. Y/N told Beau about her move to Montana and how hectic the ER could get. He listened intently, nodding as he sipped his drink.

"You miss Texas?" he asked, his tone curious but not pressing.

She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I do, but I like it here. It’s different, but in a good way."

Beau leaned back in his chair, considering her words. "Yeah, I get that. Montana has a way of growing on you."

She chuckled. "That, or I just don’t have time to think about it much with how crazy work gets."

Beau smirked, taking another sip. "Welcome to the club."

They talked easily, catching up on the changes in both their lives. Y/N eventually brought up something she knew had to be on his mind.

"You know, you must be excited that is moving Emily closer," she said, watching his reaction carefully. At the mention of his daughter, Beau’s expression softened. He nodded, setting his glass down. "Carla told you?"

"Yeah," Y/N admitted. "She mentioned that she and her husband were moving a few towns over. Same state, at least."

Beau let out a breath, a mix of relief and anticipation in his eyes. "It’ll be good to have her close again. It’s been hard not seeing her as much as I want."

Y/N smiled. "She’s gonna love it here." Beau looked at her for a moment before nodding. "Yeah… I think so too."

As the night stretched on, their conversation grew more personal. The drinks helped loosen things up, but it was mostly the comfort of familiarity that kept them talking.

"So," Beau leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, "you been dating much since you moved here?"

Y/N huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "No time, to be honest. Between shifts and trying to actually sleep, dating hasn’t exactly been a priority."

Beau nodded knowingly. "Yeah, I get that. My job isn’t exactly a walk in the park either. Hard to meet someone when you’re always on call, always dealing with something."

"Exactly." Y/N swirled the last bit of her drink in her glass, watching the ice shift. "And even if you do meet someone, not everyone gets the crazy work hours. They think you’re avoiding them when, really, you’re just too damn exhausted."

Beau smirked. "Sounds familiar."

She glanced up at him, her expression thoughtful but open as always. "I mean, I don’t really miss anyone, if that makes sense. But the physical stuff? That, I could use once in a while. Helps relieve stress."

Beau choked out a laugh, shaking his head. "Well, that’s one way to put it."

She shrugged, grinning. "Just being honest."

He didn’t doubt that for a second. Y/N had never been one to sugarcoat things, and it was something he’d always appreciated about her. But as much as he laughed it off, he knew exactly what she meant. It was the same for him—when your life was all work and little play, there wasn’t much time to actually get to know someone, let alone build something real.

The thought lingered between them for a moment, unspoken but understood.

After dinner, Beau did the gentlemanly thing and drove Y/N home. He pulled up to her place, the engine humming softly as they sat there for a beat longer than necessary.

"Thanks for tonight," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt but not moving to leave just yet.

Beau gave her a small smile. "Yeah, it was… unexpected, but good."

She lingered, fingers tapping against her thigh before glancing at him. "You wanna come in for a drink?" He hesitated for a second, but then nodded. "Sure."

Inside, the air felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Y/N poured them both a drink in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she handed him his glass. He took a sip, watching her over the rim, and she could tell there was something circling in his mind.

"So," she started, setting her drink down, "have you ever considered a fuck buddy?"

Beau coughed slightly, not expecting that. His brows lifted in surprise. "Excuse me?"

She smirked, tilting her head. "You heard me."

His lips parted like he was about to respond, but he just stared at her, trying to gauge if she was joking. The look in her eyes told him she wasn’t. Then, something changed in his expression. His surprise melted into something darker, something hungry.

"You mean…" He lifted a finger, gesturing between them.

"Well," she confirmed. "We’re adults, right? And I know you are clean, as an officer of the law you are tested regular, so am I. And who better than someone you know and trust."

Beau exhaled slowly, setting his glass down. He thought about it for a second, then met her gaze. "No one needs to know, right?"

She shook her head. "No one."

He let that settle in his mind, then took a slow step toward her. "Just… physical?"

Y/N didn’t answer with words. The smirk on her lips was all the confirmation he needed.

That was all it took.

Beau closed the space between them, his hand cupping the side of her face as he kissed her, fierce and demanding. She responded instantly, fingers gripping his shirt, pulling him closer as the heat between them ignited into something neither of them planned—but neither of them wanted to stop.

He lifted her on the counter, while his lips where on her neck, his hand moved in between her legs. Her breaths turned to moans. Beau didn't waste any time as she was also needy. To his surprise he got her quickly to the edge. He kneeled and placed his lips over her sensitive bud to tip her over the edge.

Her hand flew to his hair. her nails scraping while her other hand cling to the counter.

When he stood up. She pulled him in close to kiss him, muttering "Fuck that was fast." Beau smirked. "Let's hope I'm not as quick or it will be done very soon." Y/N laughed out loud, her head falling back but the second Beau pushed himself inside her, her laugh changed to a deep groan, and she clung to his neck.

Y/N moved her hips which made Beau groan and held her still. Y/N bit her lip leaning in "Take what you need Beau." His head lay against hers. "Call me old fashioned but I still want to give you pleasure."

"You did, you did give Beau. Now take." His eyes darkened and his pace became quick and rough. Like a man starved, his hand held on to her hips as his smacked against her.

Her moans combined with the feeling of her made him quicken his thrusts even more and before he knew it, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

His face hid in the crook of her neck while his deep groans told her he had listened. And he had indeed took what he needed... release.

Afterward, Beau ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath before stepping back. "That felt good didn't it." She smiled. She could see his doubtful look. "I'm usually not this... quick." he said still breathing fast. "

"I get it." Y/N said "Neither am I, we probably just needed it because it had been way to long."

***

Once outside. The night air was cool against his heated skin as he turned back to her.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low. "I really needed that." Y/N leaned against the doorframe, still catching her breath, but then his next words made her frown slightly.

"And… sorry." Her brows furrowed. "Sorry?" Beau smirked, nodding toward her. "I might have messed up your hair." She reached up, feeling the tangled mess hanging around her face, and let out a laugh. "Beau, I think you did exactly right."

He chuckled, shifting slightly before meeting her gaze again. There was something in his expression—satisfaction, maybe a little amusement—but also understanding. This was simple. No expectations, no complications.

She bit her lip, tilting her head. "Call me whenever you need to… you know." Beau smirked, his eyes dark with something unreadable. "Same goes for you." He took a step back, hands slipping into his pockets. "Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Beau," she replied, watching as he got into his car. As he drove off, she stood there for a moment, exhaling slowly. Yeah… this was going to be interesting.

--

Weeks passed, and Beau and Y/N kept finding their way back to each other whenever they had a free moment. It didn’t matter if it was after a brutal shift in the ER or a long, exhausting day at the station—if one of them needed an escape, the other was there.

Mostly, they fucked like needy teenagers, desperate and relentless, as if the stress of their lives could only be burned away in the heat between them. Afterward, they’d lay tangled in her sheets, catching their breath, bodies still humming from the release.

And then, for a little while, they’d just talk.

Not about feelings, not about anything too deep—just whatever had pushed them to need this in the first place. A rough case, a stubborn patient, the weight of their jobs pressing too hard. They listened, they understood, and then they went their separate ways.

No strings. No expectations. Just a mutual agreement to be there when the other needed to forget the world for a while.

Tonight was different.

Beau had texted her earlier, a simple, "You got a moment?" Nothing unusual. She agreed, set the time, expecting the same routine—needy, desperate, quick.

And at first, it was. He kissed her the second she let him in, hands gripping her waist like he couldn’t get close enough. But when they finally made it to her bed, something shifted.

His kisses, usually hungry and demanding, were soft. Almost careful. His movements slowed, his hips rolling against hers with a deep, steady rhythm instead of the usual urgency. His hands didn’t just grab or pull—they lingered, tracing, memorizing.

Y/N noticed immediately.

"Beau?" she murmured between kisses, brows furrowing. "Are you—"

He didn’t let her finish. His lips pressed against hers again, silencing any question. Then his arms wrapped around her fully, holding her close, his face tucking into the crook of her neck.

Her breath hitched. This was different. This wasn’t just stress relief.

He needed something else tonight.

She didn’t push him for answers. Instead, she let her fingers slip into his hair, holding him just as tightly, letting him take whatever comfort he was looking for.

And even though they never made this personal before—tonight, it felt like it was.

Y/n felt weird after that and didn't texted for a while, trying to figuere out what had changed.

Until she had a really difficult patient, the man tried to grope several nurses, and she had a hard time helping him. When Beau walked in with another scumbag who needed attention she told a colleague to take over and pulled beau apart to a small empty room.

She started kissing him, and he joked "Hello to you too."

"Sorry," Y/N murmured between kisses "Need you right the fuck now." Beau smirked liking her boldness. He turned her around, dropping their pants I doing so and lifting her leg on a chair while her hand pushed against the wall.

"How do you want me?" He whispered in her ear. "Hard and quick." She moved one hand to his hair. "Please." Beau bit her ear as he positioned himself between her legs.

With a frantic pace the small room filled with deep breaths and soft moans. One of his hands pulled her back by her hip to increase the thrust impact while his other covered her mouth.

The second Beau felt her legs starting to shake he couldn't hold back any longer and felt his own release fill her. "Ffffuck!" he whispered against her shoulder.

***

As they where cleaning and dressing up Beau seemed nervous. He kept looking at her. But right the second he wanted to say something she kissed him on his cheek and said, 'Thanks I really needed that." Beau smiled and look at the floor "Yeah, sure no problem, that was eh... hot."

Y/N place a hand on the door.

"Wait!"

She turned towards Beau. Who was scratching the back of his neck. "B-before you go back out there, saving lives, what eh... Are you free tonight?"

It shouldn't have shocked her, that question, she could have thought it was just an invite for another round of sex, it wouldn't have been the first time they had sex multiple times a day. But something in the way he looked she knew it meant something else.

"Are you ok? are you hurt?"

"Hurt? Oh no, no I was just thinking, I'm alone tonight, and eh, Emily isn't with me, so I thought maybe we could order Chinese food and watch some tv or something. I know you wanted to watch Yellowstone for a while so... What do you think?"

"Eh... Well I'm sorry but I'm... not available tonight." Y/N bit her lip. "If I had know..." Beau stopped her by putting his hand up. "No no, I'm pretty last minute with this, it's fine."

"Maybe next time?" She tried to lift the mood but could see how defeated Beau looked.

"Yeah, next time."

***

Beau had just dropped Emily off at Carla’s when he noticed they had company. He wasn’t the type to linger, but he figured he’d at least be polite.

"Nice place," he commented, glancing around.

Carla smiled. "Thanks. We’re finally settling in."

Before he could make a quick exit, Avery clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Beau. You should come in, man. Let me show you around."

Beau hesitated but eventually nodded. No harm in being civil, right?

Stepping inside, he took in the place, nodding along as Avery talked. But then his gaze landed on the living room, and his whole body tensed.

Y/N.

She was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, holding a glass of wine. But it wasn’t just her presence that caught him off guard—it was the man sitting next to her.

Carla followed his gaze and, as if sensing the awkward tension, smiled a little too tightly. "You remember Y/N, right?"

Beau’s jaw flexed, and he forced a nod, playing along like they hadn’t been tangled in her sheets just the other night. "Yeah. Of course."

Y/N, to her credit, played it cool, offering a polite smile. But he saw it—the flicker of recognition, the same tension tightening her shoulders.

Carla gestured to the man beside her. "This is Tyler. He’s a vet, a friend of Avery’s. We thought we’d all have a little double date night."

Beau barely heard the rest of what she said. His eyes locked on Y/N’s for a fraction of a second, and he caught it—the slight shift in her expression when she noticed the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip tightened around his drink.

She noticed his jealousy.

And damn it, he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it.

Beau let out a sharp breath, gripping his keys as he turned toward his car. "I gotta go. Enjoy your night."

Y/N jumped up from the couch, barely processing what she was doing before she was rushing after him.

"Beau, wait!"

He stopped at his car but didn’t turn around. When he finally spoke, his voice was tense. "What?"

"It’s not what it looks like," she insisted.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh, finally facing her. "It’s not what? You, on a date, showing cleavage for Dr. Dolittle while we were just—" He stopped himself, jaw tightening before he shook his head. "Never mind. Not my business. You have fun."

He yanked open his car door, but she stepped in front of him, stopping him from leaving.

"Don’t be like that."

"Like what?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Jealous, Beau!"

His laugh was short and sharp. "Jealous?"

"Yes! Jealous, You were the one who said no one could know. Just sex, remember?"

"Yeah, well," he shot back, "you also said you didn’t have time to date!"

Y/N’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected that.

Beau sighed, running a hand over his face, clearly frustrated. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. You’re right. This is my fault. I should’ve told you..." He trailed off before shaking his head. "You should go back inside. I’m sure you’re a great match with him."

"Beau, please." She reached out, grabbing his arm.

His muscles tensed under her touch, but he didn’t pull away.

"I didn’t set this up," she said firmly. "I had no idea he’d be here. Honestly, I thought it was just their housewarming."

Beau finally looked at her, searching her face for any sign of a lie. Finding none, his shoulders dropped slightly.

"Yeah?" His voice was quieter now.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I wouldn’t do that."

He exhaled, glancing back at the house before looking at her again. "I should go."

Y/N nodded slowly, but before he could move, she squeezed his arm gently. "Beau… we should talk about this."

He swallowed hard but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gave her a small nod before stepping back.

"Not tonight," he finally said. "But soon."

And with that, he got into his car and drove away, leaving Y/N standing there, heart pounding, knowing that everything between them had just changed.

***

Months had passed, and they never talked.

Y/N had convinced herself it was for the best—until the night Beau was brought into the ER, bleeding and battered.

She had been reviewing charts when she heard his name. Her stomach dropped. Rushing to the trauma bay, she found him lying on the bed, a deep cut on his face and a gunshot wound to his arm. No bullet left inside, just a clean wound, but it didn’t make seeing him like that any easier.

He caught the worry in her eyes, even though she kept her face neutral, professional. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t demand answers—just did her job. And despite how much time had passed, Beau knew she was holding back, not because she didn’t care, but because he had never called her back. He had no right to ask for her concern.

By morning, as her shift was ending, she stopped by his room one last time.

"I called Emily," she said, stepping inside. "She and Carla are on their way to pick you up. You’re allowed to leave."

Beau sat on the edge of the bed, watching as she approached. When she leaned in to check his bandage one more time, his hand moved instinctively, resting lightly on her hip.

"I’m sorry," he said, his voice rough.

Y/N froze for a beat before exhaling softly. "How… how is Tyler?" he asked hesitantly.

She sighed, pulling back slightly. "I don’t know. Haven’t seen him since that night."

Beau let out a quiet breath, his head hanging low. "I’m sure I did that. He must have thought I was some crazy ex or something." She frowned, confused. "No, I just… didn’t meet with him. I was too busy trying to make amends with a stubborn sheriff."

His eyes lifted to hers, something flickering in them—guilt, regret, maybe something else.

"I messed up," he admitted.

Y/N tilted her head, lips quirking slightly. "Well," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, "I guess I did too."

"No, no," Beau said, shaking his head slightly. His grip on her hip tightened just a little, like he needed her to hear this. "I should have told you—I started to like you."

Y/N’s breath hitched. She swallowed, heart pounding. "Beau…" she sighed, searching his face. "I guess I knew."

His brows furrowed. "You did?"

She gave him a small, almost shy smile. "Yeah. Well, I mean… last time, at my house, you were different. It didn’t feel like just sex, and I was afraid of what that meant, so I didn’t ask anything. But now, when I think about it… it all makes sense."

She took a step closer, moving to stand between his legs.

Beau’s good arm lifted, his fingers brushing her cheek gently, his thumb tracing her skin like he was memorizing it. His voice was quiet, almost raw. "Please forgive me."

Her forehead rested against his, and she exhaled slowly. "Of course."

For the longest time, they just stayed like that, breathing the same air, looking into each other’s eyes, feeling the weight of everything that had been left unsaid.

And then, finally, he kissed her.

Soft, slow, deep—nothing like the hurried, desperate kisses they used to share. This was different. This meant something.

"Please go on another date with me?" Beau sounded almost insecure. She smiled, "I still kind of what to see Yellowstone, and now that the Sheriff is injured I presume he has some time off in the near future?"

"For you? Always." he smiled.

Y/N kissed him, "Good, because I think I just find someone worthy of making time for."

--

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[rd0265667]

Mina x Reader: Enough

“You know this is why IT hates you, right? Your keyboards have such a short lifespan it’s almost pitiful.”

I turned, blinking out of the fog of my own exhaustion, just in time to see that shit-eating grin aimed directly at me.

Darius. Of course.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my eyes. Everything ached—my wrists, my shoulders, my brain. My fingers were stiff from typing for… how long? Hours? Days? Time had blurred into a loop of emails, deadlines, and the relentless glow of my laptop screen.

“Did you come here just to critique my work habits, or do you actually need something?” I muttered.

Darius dropped into the chair across from me, stretching out like he had nowhere better to be. “I need you to not drop dead from exhaustion at your desk. So, yeah, I’d call this an intervention.”

“I’m fine,” I said, waving him off.

“You say that, but I just watched you mutter threats at your Wi-Fi like it personally wronged you.”

“It has. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right. And how many hours of sleep have you gotten in the past forty-eight hours?”

I didn’t answer. Not because I was hiding anything, but because I honestly didn’t know.

Darius sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, Atlas. You brought this on yourself.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean—”

He pulled out his phone. Started typing. Smirked.

My stomach dropped. “Darius, what are you doing?”

“Solving the problem,” he said, still typing.

“Darius.”

He raised a single finger, silencing me. A beat later, his phone lit up with an incoming call, and he grinned before answering.

“Hey, Mina,” he said, far too smug. “Yeah, they’re doing it again.”

I groaned. “You absolute traitor.”

Darius ignored me. “No, I’d say we’re at a solid nine out of ten on the workaholic scale. At least three empty coffee cups, significant eye strain, possible early-onset keyboard rage.” He paused, nodding like Mina could see him. “Yep. I’ll wait.”

I closed my eyes, debating my life choices.

“Before you complain,” Darius added, finally putting his phone down, “you do realize this is self-inflicted, right?”

I scoffed. “Excuse me for covering for people who have actual emergencies.”

“Y—”

“Emily’s out because her kid’s sick, Marcus has a family thing, and James is on leave,” I said, voice sharper than I intended. “Who else is supposed to handle their workload?”

Darius gave me a long, unimpressed look. “I don’t know, maybe their boss?”

I exhaled through my nose. “Their boss is drowning, too.”

“And you think you can single-handedly save everyone?”

“Someone has to.”

Darius pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about self-sacrificing idiots before looking back at me. “Atlas, you are one person. And before you argue, I’d like to remind you that you’ve been running on caffeine and spite for at least two days. This is not a sustainable lifestyle.”

I wanted to argue. I really, really did. But I felt the weight of his words settle in my chest, heavy in a way I couldn’t shake.

And then my phone buzzed.

Mina.

Darius grinned. “And that would be your girlfriend, probably ready to stage a full-scale extraction.”

I swallowed. “I hate you.”

“Aw, love you too, you little diva.”

I shot him a look that was half-warning, half-annoyed, before reluctantly answering the call. “Hey, baby.”

There was a long, tense silence on the other end before Mina’s voice sliced through the quiet. It was sharp, tight, and dripping with the kind of displeasure I only heard when she was really angry. “Don’t ‘hey, baby’ me, Y/N. Darius says you haven’t slept.”

I winced, rubbing my face. “I’ve slept,” I said, my voice coming out far more defensive than I’d intended. “Just… not as much as I should have.”

“Not as much?” Mina’s voice was dangerously low now, as if the very thought of it was enough to make her blood boil. “How many hours?”

I hesitated, eyes darting to Darius, who was watching me like I was about to perform some kind of spectacular failure. “Uh… define ‘hours.’”

There was a long pause, and I could almost feel her eyes narrowing through the phone. “How many hours, Y/N?”

I cringed, then finally mumbled, “I don’t know, two, maybe three.”

There was a cold, almost hurt laugh from Mina. “Two hours,” she repeated, like the number itself was something obscene. “I’m coming back.”

I nearly choked. “What? No, Mina—Mina, no. You have a concert soon. You’re on tour! You can’t just leave because I didn’t sleep enough.”

“Mhm.” Her tone was flat, but I could feel the edges of frustration in the simple sound. “I’m coming back.”

“Mina, you can’t. You have obligations—the girls needs you there,” I insisted, trying to reason with her, but it felt futile. She wasn’t even listening to me anymore.

“I’m coming back,” she repeated, as if that was the only sentence she was willing to speak on the matter.

“Please, you can’t just drop everything for me. I’m fine, I just—”

“You’re fine?” Her voice was ice cold, cutting through me. “Darius told me you’ve been running on caffeine and spite for the last few days, and you’re fine? Don’t you dare lie to me, Y/N.”

I froze, the weight of her words sinking in.

“Fine doesn’t sound like this,” she continued, her voice growing colder, quieter. “I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that you’re running yourself into the ground like this, or that you think I’m just going to sit here and watch you do it.”

“I’m not—” I started, but she cut me off, her words coming faster now, more impatient.

“You think I don’t know you, Y/N?” She scoffed. She let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“Mina—”

“I’ll be back tomorrow, and if I find your dumbass even thinking of work, I swear you’ll regret it,” she snapped, and before I could argue further, she hung up.

I was left standing there with the dead silence of the call still buzzing in my ear. My chest felt hollow, the words she didn’t say sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach.

Darius, of course, was watching me with a look that said he was thoroughly enjoying this whole exchange. “Well, that was something.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I let my head fall onto my desk with a dull thud, my mind spinning.

“I will murder you.” I muttered into the wood.

Darius laughed softly, his voice teasing. “If you make it out alive, take your best shot.”

When Mina finally got home, I was lying on the couch, fingers absentmindedly worrying the frayed edge of the blanket draped over me. I had been waiting for what felt like hours, nerves coiled too tightly to focus on anything else. The apartment was quiet, the only light coming from the television screen, frozen on the selection menuIt had been so still, so empty, that when I heard the lock click, I almost startled.

She stepped inside softly, closing the door with a controlled, measured quiet. The faint rustling of fabric as she toed off her shoes, the muted clink of keys dropped onto the counter, the way she exhaled—like she was trying to keep it even. But she didn’t speak.

The silence stretched between us, heavy, expectant.

I stole a glance over my shoulder, catching the way she moved through the apartment with a careful kind of precision. No sharp looks, no frustrated sighs. No words, either.

A rustle of plastic. The quiet pop of the TV remote. The familiar hum of the screen shifting menus. And then, the opening notes of Pacific Rim.

My stomach twisted.

She sank onto the opposite end of the couch, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her presence but not close enough to touch. Her posture was relaxed, casual, but too deliberate to be real.

I watched her for a beat, waiting for her to look at me, to say something, to roll her eyes and finally break the tension. But she just reached into the bag she had brought, pulled out a pack of snacks, and set them on the coffee table without a word.

The movie played on, but I barely registered it.

“Mina.” My voice came out quieter than I expected.

She didn’t look at me.

The weight of unspoken things sat heavy between us, thick and unmoving, and I shifted, searching for the right words, the right way to explain. “I—” I hesitated, then sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” I tried again, voice threading into the spaces between the sounds of crashing Jaegers and roaring Kaiju. “I just thought I could handle it.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t turn.

But her fingers curled slightly against her thigh, just for a second.

The movie played on, the blue glow of the screen flickering against the walls, but I wasn’t really watching. Not really. I could recite half the lines from Pacific Rim by heart, but right now, they blurred together, the action sequences nothing more than background noise to the silence still hanging between us.

Mina sat next to me, but she might as well have been miles away. She wasn’t curled into my side like she usually would be, wasn’t making quiet, amused comments about my favorite scenes, wasn’t sneaking glances at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice. She just… sat there. Still. Unmoving.

I reached for the snack bag she had set on the table, something small, an excuse to fill the silence with the crinkle of plastic. The second my fingers brushed the bag, Mina moved.

Not much. Just enough.

Enough that I noticed the sharp, barely-there intake of breath. The subtle tension in her jaw as she exhaled through her nose.

I hesitated, fingers still curled around the bag. “Mina,” I said again, barely above a whisper.

She didn’t respond.

“Mina, please.”

Something in her expression shifted. A flicker of something raw before she turned away, reaching for the remote instead. The volume clicked up a few notches.

My stomach twisted.

I set the snack down and turned to her fully. “Talk to me,” I tried.

Nothing.

“I know you’re upset,” I pressed, softer now. “And I know it’s not just about—” I gestured vaguely to myself, to the exhaustion.

Her jaw tightened, but still, she said nothing.

I swallowed, letting the words settle before I spoke again. “It’s not just the work, is it?”

Mina’s fingers curled tighter around the edge of her sleeve, a slight tremor running through them before she stilled. The silence stretched thinner, sharper, until she finally exhaled, slow and measured, like she was fighting to keep herself steady.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but edged with something that made my chest ache.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

She turned then, finally looking at me, and the weight of her gaze hit me like a punch to the gut. Her expression was still composed—controlled in the way she always was—but her eyes… Her eyes told a different story.

“You don’t tell me things,” she said, her voice still quiet but steadier now. “You always act like everything’s fine, like you’ve got it handled, like—” She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, fingers pressing hard against her temples for a second before she dropped them. “You put on a brave face, and you don’t—” Her breath hitched for the smallest moment before she caught it. “You don’t let me in. I need Darius to text me to even get an inkling of what you’re going through. What you’re really going through.”

I stared, feeling the words land like stones in my chest.

“Mina—”

“Do you not trust me?” she asked, and that’s what made my heart stop. Because she wasn’t asking it like an accusation. She was asking it like it was something that had been gnawing at her for a while.

I shook my head instantly. “Of course I trust you—”

“Then why don’t you ever let me help?”

Her voice wavered, just for a second, and it was the crack in the dam I hadn’t seen coming.

She wasn’t just angry.

She wasn’t just frustrated.

She was hurt.

I opened my mouth, then closed it, scrambling for the right thing to say, for something that would fix this. 

“I thought…” I exhaled, shaking my head. “I didn’t want to burden you.”

Mina let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “Burden me,” she echoed. “You think you could ever be a burden?”

“I just—” I ran a hand down my face, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “You have your own responsibilities, your own stress, and I didn’t want to add to it.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for the first time all night, something sharp flickered in her eyes.

“That’s not your decision to make.”

I froze.

She sat up a little straighter, gaze unwavering. “You don’t get to decide what’s too much for me. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it, guilt curling in my stomach. “Work has been a lot, but… I just wanted to be strong for you,” I admitted, the words barely above a whisper, my voice slowly cracking as I hung my head low.

Noticing the change in my posture, Mina couldn’t stop herself as she leaned forward, gently placing her hand on my back.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her hand on my back, warm and grounding. It was gentle, not pushing, not demanding—just there. Just her.

Mina exhaled softly, fingers flexing ever so slightly, like she wanted to pull me closer but was holding back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mina, it’s just been a lot at work, and I’ve tried my best, but…” My voice wavered, trailing off into nothing.

Her thumb brushed slow, soothing circles against my spine. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” she murmured. “I know you want to be strong, but strength isn’t just about holding everything in. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to lean on someone.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I just—I don’t want to let you down.”

She sighed, but there was no frustration in it this time, just quiet understanding. “You couldn’t, even if you tried.”

I swallowed again, something thick and knotted in my throat. “But what if my best isn’t enough?”

Mina didn’t hesitate. She squeezed my shoulder, firm and certain. “Well, it’s enough for me.”

The words hit me like a slow, spreading warmth, something deep inside loosening. I blinked, eyes stinging, and when I finally looked up, Mina was watching me, her gaze steady and unwavering.

She gave me a small, knowing smile. “You’re enough, okay? You always have been.”

My chest ached, but in a way that felt… lighter. Like some of the weight had finally lifted. I nodded, exhaling shakily. “Okay.”

Mina shifted closer, her presence a perfect warmth beside me. When she wrapped her arm around me, I didn’t hesitate. I leaned in, pressing my forehead softly against her shoulder, breathing in the calming scent of her hair. The world outside seemed to disappear, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, curled up on the couch in the soft glow of the TV. I let myself relax completely, sinking into the moment, allowing myself to just be here with her.

After a beat, Mina rested her chin gently against the top of my head, her breath warm against my skin. I could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest as she sighed contentedly. “Now, are we watching this movie, or do I need to fight Pacific Rim for your attention?” she teased, her voice light and full of playful affection.

A small, broken laugh bubbled out of me at her words, a smile tugging at my lips. Mina’s lips quirked in that satisfied way, and I felt her arm tighten slightly around me as if to claim me in the most gentle, affectionate way. It made my heart flutter. She wasn’t just holding me; she was there, with me, in the most comforting way.

“Okay, okay, you win,” I murmured, the warmth of her embrace making it impossible to pull away from the comfort she provided. I didn’t even care about the movie anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of her hand gently running up and down my arm, the steady rhythm calming me even further.

Mina pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head and gave me a playful squeeze. “Good,” she said, her voice softening. “But seriously, Y/N... you’ve been working way too hard. I’m glad to see you finally letting yourself rest.” She gave a little wink, but there was a softness in her tone that made her words feel more like a gentle nudge than a lecture. “Don’t make me start scheduling your breaks for you.”

I let out a small laugh, squeezing her a little tighter in response. “I know, I know,” I whispered, my voice muffled by her shoulder.

Mina hummed, her chin resting back against my hair. “Well, I will have to keep an eye on you,” she teased. “No more all-nighters, okay? If I catch you working late again, I’ll just show up and drag you away.”

I chuckled, the sound light and free. “I think I can handle that,” I said, snuggling closer to her.

Mina kissed the top of my head again, a gentle press of her lips that made my heart skip a beat. “Good,” she murmured. “Now, let’s actually watch the movie, yeah? I’ll even let you take a break from your overachieving self and enjoy this.”

I smiled, my heart full. Yeah. I’d be okay. With Mina by my side, everything was okay.

[strniohoeee]

Cupid’s Arrow

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Being ghosted sucks, but being ghosted on Valentine’s Day by your boyfriend sucks even more. Is love a losing game, or is there space for redemption?💌

Warnings: None, kinda boring. Kinda ass. Sorry love yall😼💞

Song for imagine: Love Is A Losing Game- Amy Winehouse

Another Hallmark holiday, here we go….

I can’t believe this, he fucking forgot our date

My eyes squinted as the sun setting left rays peeking in between buildings causing a ghastly beam of light into my orbs.

Rolling my eyes and looking away from the window my fingers played with the hem of my babydoll shirt. It was white with red hearts on it, perfect for today.

We had planned a nice early dinner and a walk in the town for today. I wasn’t a fan of flowers or balloons or any corny traditional Valentines Day tactics. I just wanted to spend the day with the person I loved the most. Or thought I loved the most….

See we had only been together for a year, but known each other for four. Our friendship was amazing and the first 6 months of our relationship, but suddenly it all changed and I wasn’t sure why.

We fought a lot over small things, and he would be so sneaky and shady. We barely would hangout anymore and we’d barely talk or text unless he needed something….

It all started to feel transactional and that’s no way to go through a relationship. But I decided that we should take today the day of love to lay our cards out and figure this all out.

He’s really an amazing guy, and I wanted to make this work; but I began to think he didn’t want the same thing. Looking down at my phone to zero messages and zero missed calls. I sighed a large sigh.

He was now a full hour late, and honestly I knew he wasn’t going to show up. I didn’t even bother to call or text. He showed me his true colors right then and there.

Looking back out the window the sun began to set some more. The Diner was across the street from a drugstore and the amount of men running out with flowers, chocolates and balloons made me scoff. That’s exactly what I mean. It’s a Hallmark holiday so money hungry companies can make boatloads of cash off of lousy men. Why is one day out of 365 days the only day where women should be receiving gifts to show that their partners love them. Bogus….

“Sweety, would you like to order something?” I heard lightly from behind me, snapping my head around when I was met with a cute older woman. Bright red lipstick and powerful blush on. Smiling shyly as I observed her.

“Uhh, sure, could I have a menu?” I asked her

“Oh of course I’ll head up front to grab you one I’ll be back shortly” she replied

She quickly stepped away, and a busser had brought me water over. As I reached for the straw my cutlery set had fallen off the table.

“Shit” I mumbled as I tossed the straw back down

As I leaned to grab it, someone had already bent down and grabbed it. My eyes follow their movement.

“Thank you, sorry about that” I stated as I looked up at the boy and grabbed the set from his hand.

“No worries” he said quietly, I smiled gently at him

He paused for a second and his brows furrowed for a moment.

“Do I know you?” He asked me

“Uhh maybe” I said looking back at him, but I had soon realized who he was and my eyes shot open

“Matt?”

“Y/N?”

We said at the same time. Holy shit I knew he sounded so familiar. I hadn’t seen him since sophomore year of Highschool.

“No way, how have you been?” He asked me

“I’ve been good, are you here with anyone?” I asked him as I looked over his shoulder for not only the waitress but potentially someone else coming with him.

“Oh no, no I’m here alone” he said

“Well if you want you can join me” I said gesturing to the seat in front of me

“Oh I don’t know I don’t want to intrude” he said shrugging his shoulders

“No it’s okay please sit” I said

Taking a seat in front of me, it felt like Freshman year all over again.

Matt, his brothers and I had been friends since middle school. Matt and I had gotten the closest as he was super anxious and shy and I helped him out of that bubble.

Freshman year we’d walk to this diner almost everyday and do homework as we waited for my dad to come pick us up. We had gotten really close and I even developed a small little crush on him.

Sophomore year rolled around and we didn’t have much classes together, and when his anxiety got really bad he didn’t really come to school often. But we all hung out every weekend.

That was until mid school year when my dad got stationed in Oklahoma for the military. Leaving them behind hurt horribly, but we all texted as much as we could. Obviously as we got older and made new friends we stopped texting and calling, but I still kept up with them on social media until I didn’t.

The summer before going to college my father had been killed in combat. Which prompted my mom, my sibling and I to move back to our hometown in Boston.

I was shocked I hadn’t run into them not once in the four years I’ve been back until now. Crazy how life works.

“When did you get back?” He asked me, the lovely waitress had taken our orders at this point

“Four years ago” I said bluntly

“Wow” he said shocked a bit

“My dad was killed in combat and my mom wanted to lay him to rest in our hometown. So much time had passed I didn’t even think you’d remember who I was” I said giggling

“I’m sorry for your loss, are you kidding? My mom always asks about you. I should’ve kept in contact” he replied shaking his head

“Hey it’s okay, the phone goes both ways” I said offering him a reassuring smile

Our meals had come and as we began to eat, I really remembered why I was originally here.

“No Valentine?” I suddenly asked him and I wasn't sure why

Chuckling softly he swallowed before opening his mouth “no actually we broke up a few months ago and I’ve been focusing on myself. Nick is out with his boyfriend and Chris is with Nate. I wanted to be on my own. Since this is my first Valentine’s Day alone in four years” he said shrugging his shoulders as he ate another fry

“Oh wow, four years” I said shocked as I took a sip of my cherry coke

“I thought I was going to marry her, but I get to her house one day and there she is cuddled up with Dan Camineti” he says laughing

“Dan Camineti? Oh my gosh even out of Highschool he’s still a dog” I said in pure shock

“Guys like that never change” he says laughing

“You poor soul I am so sorry” I said shaking my head

“What’s your story” he states after a moment of silence

“My story?” I ask clearing my throat

“Yeah, why you’re here alone surrounded by a bunch of couples” he says giggling

I stopped for a moment as I looked at him, did I really want to tell him I wasn’t really sure. But my mouth started moving before my brain could stop it.

“Well my best friend of four years slash boyfriend of a year ghosted me this evening. We were already having trouble in paradise and we agreed that today would be the day we spoke about it and figured out where our relationship stands; and judging by his actions I know exactly where it stands.” I said firmly

“Oof what a dick, I’m so sorry” he said shaking his head

“Looks like we hit the jackpot with our love life” I said laughing

We endured more conversations as we finished our dinner. It was now 6:30 after Matt paid our bill. Stepping out into the brisk evening I wrapped my red scarf around my neck.

“Thank you for paying” I said to him as we stepped out onto the sidewalk

“Oh of course it’s the least I could do right now” he said winking playfully.

“Hey, want to walk downtown with me and look at the lights and shops?” I suddenly asked him

“Sounds cool let’s do it” he said smiling at me

We had walked around a bit and stopped into a cafe ordering some hot chocolates. We made our way over to a small bench as we sat down giggling

“No fucking way” Matt said sucking his teeth

“Way! I totally had a fat ass crush on you in high school” I said as I took a sip of my drink

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He said rolling his eyes

“Umm because every girl wanted you and I could not handle that type of rejection” I said laughing

“There would’ve been no rejection, I had a huge crush on you too” he said laughing with me

“You’re lying” I said laughing and going wide eyed

As we were chatting I kept hearing jazz music every now and then.

“What’s that?” I asked him

“Oh that’s Juno’s on the bay” he said pointing to the restaurant behind him

Everytime the door would open for people leaving and entering a soothing jazz song would ooze out and into my ears.

Smiling at the sound my eyes drifted towards the sidewalk when suddenly something caught my eye.

“Oh my god” I say as I shot up

“What?” Matt asks me just as shocked

“That’s his car” I say as I look at my “boyfriends” black mustang parked right in front of the restaurant.

“Are you sure?” He asked me

“Oh I’m sure” I say as I began to walk over to the restaurant

Before I made it to the door I looked over into the glass window when suddenly I felt my whole world crash and burn around me. There he was sitting in front of some girl. Laughing…how could he sit there and be laughing after what he just did to me.

Tears stung my waterline when suddenly his eyes met mine and grew in size. Scooting back from his chair he shot up.

My feet moved before I could register what was happening. Stomping past the restaurant the tears began to fall.

“Y/N wait! Wait!” He called out as the Jazz music faded

“WHAT? WHAT DO YOU WANT “ I asked him angrily

“Listen to me, I’m sorry I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I just couldn’t figure out how to” he said

“I should’ve known…you were distant and sneaky and you’d disappear for days on end. I can’t believe you” I said scoffing

“Listen I’m sorry, I love you but I’m not in love with you” he said.

“I hope you have the best life. We’re done. Don’t ever call or text me. Don’t come by my house and don't dare keep in contact with my mother. I never want to see you again.” I said as I wiped the tears from my face

“Don’t don’t cry” he said walking closer

“Leave me alone” I said backing up

“Listen I’m sorry” he said inching closer

“She said leave her alone” Matt suddenly states as he walks by my side

“Matt… you’re worried about me and you’re out with him?” He says scoffing

“He’s my friend..and has been since middle school. Don’t turn this on me” I said getting angry

“Yeah friend sure let’s see how long that lasts” he says laughing

“Come on man, don’t be such a dick just go back to your new girl and leave her alone ” Matt said stepping in front of me

Rolling his eyes and scoffing at Matt he stepped away and went back to the restaurant.

Turning to me Matt begins to laugh

“Tanner Crowley? Come on Y/N he’s dumber than a door knob” he said laughing which then caused me to laugh

“He really is, but he’s so damn cute” I said giggling as we began to walk away

“You’ll find better fish in the see” Matt said winking at me again

“Now let’s get you home” He said as we crossed the street

We lived near the downtown area so it was a nice little 25 minute walk. We spent most of the walk sharing funny memories and giggling like we were in school again.

“Oh my gosh remember when our parents caught Nate and my sister kissing freshman year” I said laughing

“Holy shit I do! My brothers and I were there at his house when his parents were scolding him it was the funniest shit ever” he said snorting

“And my sister made some dumb story up about practicing mouth to mouth for CPR training” I said laughing

“That was hilarious, man the good old days” he said clearing his throat

“They were” I replied

Sooner than later we approached my moms house. Matt had walked me to the front door.

“I had so much fun today, thank you for that” I said smiling at him

“Thank you for allowing me to sit with you as we chatted about our sad love lives” he said nodding his head

“Always!” I responded giggling

“We should hang out again soon” he said scratching the back of his neck

“I’d so love that, my mom would die to you and your family” I said smiling at him

“Cool… we will….uh… I will set that up” he said a bit nervous

“Goodnight Matt” I said lowly

It was a good 10 seconds of staring into each other's eyes when suddenly we both leaned in. Our lips crashed together in a cute passionate kiss. A kiss that would make me squeal when I spoke about it. A kiss that was like butterflies and fireworks in my stomach.

Pulling away we looked at each other's eyes again.

“I’ll see you around” I said smiling shyly at him as I opened the front door

“I guess I’ll see you around too, have a good night” he responded back

“Good night” I said giggling before slipping into my house and shutting the door behind me.

Who would’ve thought I’d be shot by cupid's arrow so suddenly….

The End

Idk what the freak prompted me to write this, but I could not get this idea out of my head since yesterday. Even though I’ve been gone for so long I still appreciate the support and love I’m still getting 🫶🏽🖤. Not sure when I’ll post again, so until next time I love ya 🖤

-J💅🏽

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

In Another Life

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Prompt - ‘In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.’

Bucky Barnes was nothing if not a man who felt too much. He’d fight fiercely for those he loved, he’d make an idiot of himself to get the attention of the woman he loved. He let himself get knocked around if it meant he could catch a glimpse of her scowl that he’d always manage to turn into a smile.

“Seriously, Barnes?” You groan as you walk into the medical tent, seeing the familiar sight of James Barnes on one of your beds.

“It wasn’t my fault this time!” He lied, watching as you shook your head but there was a fondness to it.

Bucky could read you like his most favourite book at this point. You’d been appointed to 107th to join their medical team and it didn’t take long to capture the attention of the Sergeant. He had fallen for you in that first meeting, watching you boss around men twice the size of you, putting them into place without fear, putting him in his place when he tried to play off a pair of broken ribs as nothing.

Since then Bucky had done anything to be around you, he’d had his nose nearly broken, he’d fractured his wrist, he’d faked more stomach bugs than he could count. You didn’t buy any of them, you never did and yet you still let him take up one of the beds in the medical tent for hours on end. 

“We both know that’s bullshit.” You called him out and he didn’t even try and look guilty anymore, instead he shot you a bright grin and shrugged in a what can you do way causing you to roll your eyes though there was no heat in the gesture. “What is it this time?”

His smile widened impossibly as he lifted his shirt up, noticing the way your eyes took in the sight appreciatively before they widened at the cut across his torso, a blood soaked rag falling down as he lifted his shirt.

“You’re a real piece of work, Barnes, you know that?” You asked, starting to gather your supplies before sitting next to Bucky, the grin still firmly in place, slightly more smug now that he’d seen you take him in.

“Don’t deny it, doll, you love me patching me up.” Bucky said confidently, knowing that you could have demanded one of the other nurses deal with him if you really didn’t like him.

“There’s better ways to get my attention, no need to go get yourself all cut up on my behalf.” You told him, watching as his eyes widened slightly and a smirk pulled at his lips. “Ready?” 

“For you, doll, always.” He smirked and you groaned again causing him to laugh, though it was quickly silenced as you pushed the needle through his skin, slowly patching up the wound and letting Bucky fill the silence, fighting back a blush as he spoke.

“There’s my most favourite nurse!” Bucky called as he stumbled into the med tent, leaning heavily against another soldier, his skin pale and sweaty.

“What happened?” You ask straight away, gesturing for the soldier to put Bucky on the bed closest to you as you get to watch stripping the uniform of the man and frowning at the amount of blood pouring from two wounds on his stomach.

“He got shot, ma’am.” The soldier answered and your frown deepened, looking up at Bucky who’s eyes were half lidded but he was still grinning at you, apparently no injury was bad enough to wipe that damn grin off his face.

“‘M fine, Y/N.” He tried to assure you, seeing the frown between your eyebrows deepen and you could help but let out a soft huff of laughter, moving to get some needles, tweezers, gauze, pads and everything else you need.

“Told you there’s better ways to get my attention, didn’t mean go and get yourself shot, Buck.” You say softly, sitting next to him and cleaning the blood, checking him over and seeing both wounds were clean through, good no need to go digging for bullets.

“Shit, doll, you’re calling me by name. My dying?” He asked, slurring the words out and your heart ached at the slight tremor in his voice.

“Come on, it’s me we're talking about. You really think I'm about to let you die?” You ask him, forcing a smile onto your face and looking up at him assuringly before focusing on the worst of the two wounds.

“Better not let me die, Y/N/N, gotta take my girl out on a date.” He breathed out, looking at you so softly, groaning when you pressed down on his wound. “Fuck, doll.”

“Your girl, huh?” You shushed him softly, keeping him talking, needing him to stay alert for your own sanity more than anything.

You took a deep breath, knowing you needed to stay calm in order to make sure Bucky got through this, to make sure he didn’t lose any more blood than he had. You needed to push aside your feelings aside and focus on the patient.

Even if that patient was Bucky Barnes.

“Best girl around.” Bucky slurred out, a choked laugh escaping him and you let yourself smile. “Fixes me up all the damn time, even though she knows I’m an idiot.”

“You certainly are an idiot.” You agree easily, watching as he glares at you, a dazed smile still firmly in place. 

You had cleaned the wound well enough that the blood had stopped pouring from it and focused on patching it up, keeping Bucky talking the whole time, even as he winced and flinched, his eyes falling shut.

You were fine so long as he kept talking.

The second gunshot wound was much easier to patch up, you had it cleaned and packed quickly and once they were both dealt with you sat back heavily, looking at Bucky’s face, watching as he forced his eyes open and looked at you drained.

“All done, doll?” He asked, voice thick with tiredness and you smiled softly at him, eyes stinging slightly as you swallowed around the lump in your throat.

“All done, soldier. Get some rest.” You told him, your own voice thick with emotion and you stood up, needing a minute to yourself, eyes watering but a hand on your wrist stopped you from leaving.

“Stay, doll?” Bucky asked softly and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, a single tear slipping down your cheek as you turned around and sat back down, Bucky forcing his heavy eyes open and frowning at you. “M’alright.”

You nodded, you knew he was, you were the one to patch him up and yet you felt like you couldn’t catch your breath now that you were done. Bucky practically lived in the med tent, you were used to him being hurt, used to fixing up his many injuries. This one was different though, this one was serious.

You’d never really had Bucky in your med bay because he needed saving. There were so many factors that could have changed the outcome, if the gunshots had caught Bucky a bit to the right it could have caused damage you couldn’t have fixed, if it had taken them any longer to get Bucky to you he could have lost too much blood. It was the first time you’d had Bucky in serious danger.

It’s not like you were stupid, you knew who he was, what his job was but when it was just the two of you it was easy to forget there was a war going on outside, easy to forget that seriousness of his job. 

“You’re alright.” You breathed out, another few tears making their way down your cheek and Bucky reached down, threading his fingers with yours and bringing them up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes closed. “Sleep, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, following the command easily.

After that day you let yourself give into Bucky’s flirting, giving it back just as quickly as he gave it, realising it could all be snatched from you all too soon.

It was a few weeks later, you and Bucky had practically been inseparable. All his free time had been spent with you in the med bay and he savoured each moment he got with you, his little piece of heaven during the war.

You frowned as you walked towards the med bay, hearing one of the nurses raise her voice. It wasn’t entirely uncommon, most of the soldiers looked down at a woman doing a job, sometimes it was called for but when you stepped closer your eyes widened when you heard Bucky.

“Sergeant Barnes-” The nurse tried again but Bucky cut her off.

“No! I want Y/N.” Bucky demanded, like the med tent was the sort of place to be making demands. 

You rolled your eyes stepping into the tent, Bucky not noticing you but the nurse's face filled with relief as she saw you before glaring at Bucky.

“You know,” You say, causing Bucky’s head to snap over to you, your eyes immediately going to the trail of blood falling from his temple. “When your head’s bleeding, people usually aren’t picky about what nurse they have.”

“What can I say? I have my favourite nurse, no point ending up in this place if I don’t get to see my girl.” Bucky grinned at you and you rolled your eyes though there was a fondness you couldn’t deny and you nodded at the other nurse, taking over.

“What happened this time?” You asked, holding a damp rag against the wound.

“Cut my head jumping out of the way of a bullet.” Bucky told you and you sighed, pulling the rag away and seeing the blood had already begun to slow. “Hey, when are you finally gonna let me take you out?”

Bucky had been asking you out ever since he got shot and each time you never gave him a real answer because how could you? There was a war happening, even with his free time he couldn’t just leave to go on a date with you.

“Come find me when you’ve won the war.” You finally told him, watching a blinding grin spread across his face, eyes lighting up as he nodded.

“Doll, I’m gonna marry you once the war’s won.” He swore and the way he said it, you had no choice but to believe he would, you weren’t complaining, the rest of your life with Bucky Barnes seemed like a pretty good life.

“You promise?” You grin back at him, the man unable to help himself, pulling you closer to stand between his legs and closing the distance between you, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your face up to his, his gaze intense, before his lips claimed yours in a fierce, passionate kiss full of promise of a future. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sudden intensity, your hands clutching at his shirt. The world around you faded away as you both lost yourselves in each other, the kiss leaving you both breathless.

“I promise. I’m gonna marry you when this is all over.” He promised and rested his forehead against yours. “On my life, we’re gonna spend the rest of our lives together.”

You hear the tent open and turn around from where you stood sorting through your supplies, rolling your eyes but not stopping the grin that spreads across your face.

“Here comes trouble.” You say to yourself, loud enough for Bucky to hear and he just grins back at you, sitting himself on the closest bed to you. “What is it this time then?”

“Oh nurse Y/N, you gotta help me.” Bucky groans, clutching his heart. “My heart is hurting so bad, think I’m having withdrawals from seeing my best girl, think you gotta cure for that?”

“You’re an idiot.” You laughed at him, swatting him with a rag before going back to organising your supplies, knowing the men were heading into another battle and you’d need everything ready for when they came back.

“Come on, doll.” He pouted dramatically over at you, jumping from the bed and turning you to face him. “A kiss for good luck?”

You rolled your eyes again, something you did a lot in the presence of James Barnes but couldn’t help but smile up at him. Bucky smiled down at you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek in his hand, delicately running his thumb across your cheek bone before he guided you up to him, meeting you halfway and then his lips found yours, gently at first. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, becoming more passionate as he pulled you impossibly closer, his other hand moving to the small of your back and you couldn’t help but melt into him, arms wrapping around his neck, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

“Come back to me, soldier.” You told him when the two of you finally pulled away, foreheads resting against each other.

“I got promises to keep, doll, course I’m coming back.” He said, watching as you blushed at the reminder of his promises.

Bucky stole another handful of kisses before one of the men came in, telling him he had to leave.

“See you soon, gorgeous.” He grinned, pressing one more breathtaking kiss to your lips before running out of the med tent and you sat on one of the beds, watching the spot where he had stood, smiling like a fool in love but you couldn’t deny that’s what you were.

Too much time passed, not enough information was given. You paced holes in the med tent floor, he should be back by now. Something was wrong, there were whispers but nobody would tell you anything, everything was on a need to know basis and it was driving you mad.

It had been well over a week since Bucky left and the ache in your chest grew as more and more days passed without a single word.

When the med bay tent opened your head shot round, there were dark circles under your eyes, your hair was a mess from the amount of times you’d ran your hands through it. You shook your head when you saw the commanding officer step into your tent.

“Don't.” You said firmly, eyes already filling with tears and the man frowned, a grim look on his face.

“Nurse Y/LN,” He started and you shook your head, “I regret to inform you that Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is missing in action and after our best efforts to identify the location of him and the 107th, we believe he has died in the line of duty. I know this must be difficult news to hear, but please know that you have the full support of the military and all available resources to assist you during this difficult time." 

You felt your legs give out, hitting the floor and sobs wracked your body, the choking feeling you got seeing Bucky shot coming back in full force, head shaking as you pleaded with any god that would listen to bring him back.

The commanding officer left, leaving you a sobbing mess on the floor. 

“He promised.” You choked out to nobody. “He was meant to marry me.” 

You stayed there for a long while, crying for hours for the loss of what could have been. It would have been amazing, a lifetime with James Barnes and now, now you had to miss him for longer than you had known him.

Maybe in another life he came back to you, maybe in another life the war was won and he came back to you, swept you up in his arms and kept every promise he ever made. Maybe in another life, you had lazy mornings in bed, in another life you did the mundane stuff like taxes and laundry together.

Maybe in another life you had more time.

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