#though the most I’m familiar with the word when it comes to starting a car [insert all the times ive heard family say they have to

[hischierslovergirl]

G'mornin'! I just saw your post and I want to say it's always warming seeing someone getting back into writing!! And so please can I request:

Luke Hughes with "the first initial kiss being a peck, then they immediately go back in for a stronger, more passionate one" + "I'll give you a ride, don't worry."

Have a lovely day and take your time, no rush <33

Thank you so much for requesting and for your encouragement xx. This turned a bit longer than I anticipated, but I hope you enjoy!

Just when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse, your car decided to show you just how bad it could get. You’d already had a long and crappy shift of dealing with handsy old men, your manager and coworkers were seemingly fighting to see who could piss you off the most, you had spilled a red colored drink on your white top, and now you had to deal with whatever problem your car has now. Needless to say, you were over it.

Members of the club you worked at passed you by without even a simple glance in your direction as you stood there with frustrated tears welling in your eyes, phone to your ear as you tried to get a hold of anyone. Your hopes of someone coming to your rescue dwindled with each unanswered call until you had officially given up. You sank to the ground, knees pulled to your chest and back pressed against your car as you let out a sigh of defeat.

“Hey,” You heard a familiar voice call out.

You slowly lifted your head up from its spot between your knees and your gaze landed on Luke, one of the guys you grew friendly with during his many trips to the golf course. Though, truthfully, you had always been a bit more than friendly with him on occasion, always throwing subtle flirty remarks his way that he would bashfully return. He was a little on the shyer side than most of the guys you encountered at work, but you liked it. You liked him.

“Hi, Luke,” You weakly smiled at him, hoping the sun had set enough that he couldn’t make out the small streaks of mascara underneath your eyes.

“Is everything okay,” He carefully asks, taking a few steps closer to you with his hands shoved into his pockets, “I thought your shift was over a few hours ago?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he remembered you always got off at three on Tuesdays, but it still made your chest warm.

“It was,” You confirm, your eyes flickering to his usual group of rambunctious friends a few feet away from him before finding Luke again, “My car isn’t starting, and I can’t seem to find anyone to come pick me up, so I’m stuck here until my parents get back from the city in a few hours.”

“A few hours,” Luke lets out in disbelief before he shakes his head, his curls bouncing around in disarray, “Absolutely not. I can take you home. You’re not waiting out here for hours.”

“Luke, no,” You stressed, finally rising to your feet so you’re closer to eye level with him, though he still has quite a few inches on you, “I can handle waiting a bit longer. It’s okay. Plus, it’s way out of your way.”

A fact you knew courtesy of the time Jack had invited you to a party they had sometime last summer. A party that you left early because of the multitude of girls hoarding the one person you had gone there for.

“Doesn’t matter,” He stubbornly stands his ground, hesitantly taking a step towards you, “I’ll give you a ride, okay? Don’t worry. Making sure you get home safe will never be out of my way.”

Luke didn’t take no for an answer, and that was exactly how you ended up in seat of his expensive car with his music softly playing in the background. You had never been alone with Luke before, let alone in such a confined space, and it made you nervous. Any of the usual teasing and flirtatious remarks you would throw his way were left in the parking lot of the country club, only awkward casual conversation falling from your mouth now.

Luke kept stumbling over his words, occasionally veering off into a rant of sorts whenever certain things were brought up, and it made a smile twitch at your lips. After a few minutes he would realize that he had been talking far too long, though you didn’t mind, and he would mumble a bashful apology before directing the conversation into something different. By the time you were nearing your house, a bout of silence had fallen over the two of you and you watched everything flashed by.

“This is the one,” You pointed to the house on the right side of the street, “You can just drop me off at the end. I can walk the rest of the way.”

Luke brought his car to a stop right in front of your house, quickly throwing it into gear and grabbing the key before he was darting out of his seat. You watched him with furrowed brows and curious eyes as he jogged to the passenger door before carefully tugging it open. He was sporting a shy, timid smile, his hand grasping at the frame of the car as he patiently waited for you.

“Thank you,” You sheepishly mumble, hugging your bag to your side as you slip out of the seat.

“Of course,” He clears his throat, awkwardly shifting on his feet, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

Luke walked close enough to you that his hand kept brushing your arm, making warmth spread up your neck and to your cheeks as you kept your gaze on the ground in front of you. Once you were standing in front of the door, you finally turned to face Luke and you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked under the warm porch light. His features were soft and delicate, his curls framed his face in a way that made your mind run rampant with the idea of running your hands through them.

“Thank you, again,” You swallow thickly, “For taking me home. I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime,” He nods, and you swear his eyes drift down to your lips, “It’s the least I can do after all the gatorade’s you supply for me and the boys.”

His joke brings a quiet giggle out of you as you playfully shake your head, “I definitely make sure to keep my cart stocked when I know you guys are coming. Though I can never seem to have enough for Jack.”

“Yeah, he throws them back like they’re going to disappear,” He chuckles, his lips tugging upwards into a smile.

“I believe that,” You airily chuckle, your gaze quickly darting to his mouth before looking away, “Well, I’m sure you probably have better things to do tonight, but I really do appreciate you.”

You hastily stand on your toes to place a small and delicate kiss on his cheek, your eyes fluttering closed for a fleeting moment until you were flat on your feet again. When you meet Luke’s eyes again, there was a certain glint to his eyes that made you nervous, but he gave you no time to dwell on it before he was surging forward and slamming his lips on your own. Your reaction was instantaneous, your bag falling from your shoulder as you wrap your arms around his neck and you kiss him back with everything you had in you.

Luke’s hands found purchase on your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin as he brings you further into his chest. His mouth is moving against yours, unyielding and fueled by months of suppressed feelings as you lose yourself in the moment. It felt like the two of you were connected for hours when you regrettably pull away from him to catch your breath, his hands sliding to the small of your back to keep you close to him.

“I’m sorry,” He eventually breathes out, his chest heaving against you, “I just— Um, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time and I—”

“Luke,” You tenderly cut him off, peering up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been thinking about that for a long time, honestly. Actually, I was wondering if we could do it again sometime?”

[undyinglantern]

when you’re so shit at Spanish that it literally doesn’t even occur to you how to pronounce this word until looking at the wiki 👍🏼

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

His Empire of Desire

Pairing || Mob!Bucky x Wife!Reader

Summary || After a gruelling day with maintaining his criminal empire, Bucky returns home to you, seeking comfort and passion in your touch and words.

World Count || 3016

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, mob/mafia business, mention of violence/torture/murder, explicit content/language, pet names, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), degradation & praise kink, use of the word whore, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, begging, face/throat fucking, gagging/choking, fingering, spanking, rough fucking, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.

Authors Note || It’s been a whiiiiile… Hopefully I’m back for good now. But anyways, this is a WIP that I started at the beginning of 2023 and I finally finished a few days ago. Enjoy, and I will be back with more fics soon. But I’ll be taking my time and not rushing/stressing myself with it. I want to have fun and write again, but I won’t force it when I don’t have energy so there won’t be weekly fics most likely.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Mob!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

Once the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting shadows over the city’s towering buildings, Bucky made his way home after another demanding day maintaining his criminal empire. The day, much like the others, had been a grueling mix of meetings, negotiations, and the unsettling business of violence that defined Bucky’s world of organized crime. Accustomed to the daily occurrences of bloodshed, torture, and death, even the strongest individuals, like Bucky, had their moments when frustration and weariness weighed heavily on his broad shoulders. All Bucky craved was solace and comfort in the embrace of his wife’s warmth and love, concluding the night with the pleasure of burying himself deep within her. That singular thought occupied his mind as he sat in the backseat of the Rolls, heading towards the penthouse that overlooked the city—his sanctuary, his kingdom, and you, his Queen.

“Have a good evening, Sir,” Bucky’s chauffeur nodded firmly in the rearview mirror, receiving an equal parting nod as Bucky stepped out of the car.

As Bucky ascended the private elevator, his fingers itched intensely for your presence, yearning to wash away the day’s cruelty with your loving touch and mend his wounds with your caring words. The ascent to his and your floor, typically swift, felt like an eternity. Leaning his forehead against the mirrored elevator walls, hands clenched on each side of his head, he muttered to himself, “Come on, come on. Hurry the fuck up. I fucking need her.”

Finally, on the top floor, the elevator pinged and opened, revealing the vast penthouse. Bucky swiftly departed, entering the one place where he truly felt safe and at home. The familiar scent of your shared home immediately calmed him, normality easing his frustrations. As he entered the spacious living room, soft music filled the space, accompanied by the sound of your bare footsteps drawing closer. It was everything he had longed for after his gruelling day.

The ache he felt for you gradually faded as you approached. Clad in a silk robe, your captivating form moved with confidence, the curves of your body dancing beneath the expensive material. Your face, bare and glowing, reflected the wear and tear of your own long day.

Though Bucky adored when you were all primed and dolled up, there was an ethereal quality about you when stripped down to your natural beauty that captivated him even more.

He released a deep, heavy breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in, eyes closing briefly in bliss at the anticipation of you finally being beside him.

“Bucky,” you murmured as you stood before him, assessing him with a hint of worry. His shoulders sagged under the weight of the day, his eyes pleading. You understood immediately—he needed you now more than ever. Sensing his need for your presence and words, you prepared to offer the comfort he sought.

“Baby, you look exhausted,” you murmured, pressing yourself against him, cupping the back of his skull with your hands, thumbs softly grazing his earlobes. Your shimmery eyes met his weary gaze.

He groaned quietly as he leaned his forehead against yours. His fingers spread across the silky material on your hips, pulling you closer, needing the reassurance of your body. “Doll, I fucking need you,” he groaned, pushing his fingers harder into your covered flesh. “Now more than ever, baby.” His plea blended fiery lust with loving need.

“Come on,” you mumbled, laying a feather-light kiss on his lips, soft fingers laced with his calloused ones. “I know just what you need,” you purred, promising to provide whatever he needed—whether it be a loving cuddle and kisses or an intense physical connection, to bend you over and fuck your body and mind senseless. You were his.

You guided him through the dark hall to the luxurious en-suite, where the spacious marble shower awaited. Turning on the cascading stream of warm water, you beckoned him to come closer and let you take his stress away.

“Let me take your stress away, baby,” you purred, approaching him once again. Bucky watched your movements intently, the weariness in his eyes transforming into a look of pure lust and the longing for the gentle care only his wife could provide.

With your hands at the lapels of his suit jacket, you pulled it away from his firm body, letting it fall to the floor. Slowly, while never breaking your gaze from his fiery eyes, you unbuttoned each button with precise movements, pushing the fabric of his muscular torso. Your eyes roamed over his chiseled physique as your hands lay flat on his pecs, adorned with specs of hair. Your palms moved down the planes of his firm muscles, making him moan at your gentle touch. Unbuttoning his suit pants, you pulled them down along with his underwear, leaving him standing naked before you.

Unfastening the sash of your silk robe, you let it drop, standing completely naked before him. Taking his hand in yours, you led him into the steaming shower, the warm mist enveloping you both.

Bucky stood under the shower head, letting the water soak him from head to toe, washing away the burdens of the day. You joined him, placing your palms on his chest with a gentle touch as you stood flush against him—your bodies melded together by the water. His hardening cock pressed against your abdomen. He dropped his gaze to your burning eyes that mirrored his own, before trailing them over your naked and wet body, intensifying the heat.

With a groan, he knotted his fingers in your hair, the other wrapping around your waist. Your arms curled underneath his, placing your palms on his muscular back. Your pulse quickened with excitement, knowing where the evening was headed. All that was needed was your encouragement for Bucky to take it in the direction he desired.

“I’m yours, Bucky. Take what you need. Take me. Love me. Use me. Do whatever you need and desire right now. My body and mind are yours.”

He leaned down, capturing your lips with his, claiming and owning your mouth. His sweet and tender kisses quickly escalated into firm and needy ones. The tip of his tongue swept your bottom lip, pleading for your taste. As your tongues met, his fingers tightened in your hair, and his hand slapped the apple of your ass, followed by a firm squeeze. You whined into his mouth, pushing your body into his wet and slippery one, surrendering yourself.

Your hand wrapped around his firm cock in a tight squeeze, jerking his length in deep and slow motions while your tongue continued to dance with his. Bucky pulled away with your bottom lip between his teeth, groaning against your puffy lips as he slowly fucked himself into your grip.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” you purred against his lips, flicking the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. “I’m all yours.”

“Get on your knees, baby,” he growled. “Suck my cock like the whore I know you are for it.” His hand came up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pussy throb without suffocating you. “I’ll make you cry and choke on it while I fuck your mouth, use that tight throat.” A moan of need escaped at his filthy words. You loved being his adoring wife and his dirty whore. His lips curled in a satisfied smile at the duality you embodied—Whore and Queen.

He let you go, and without hesitation, you pressed sloppy kisses to his chest. Fingers traced the dips and planes of his chiseled physique as you continued kissing and licking down his body—his abs, his defined v-line—until you were lowered on your knees before him, mouth agape as you stared at him through your lashes. The water from the shower head above made his body gleam, intensifying the irresistible appeal of him towering over you. His cock stood fully erect, practically begging for attention, begging to be sucked. A shiver ran through your body, and a whimper escaped your lips as your pussy throbbed, eager for the same treatment your throat would soon receive—getting fucked and bruised.

Aroused with anticipation, your body practically shaking, you grasped him firmly in your hand as your tongue traced the protruding veins along his shaft, licking up to his bulbous head. Kissing and sucking the tip, you moaned at the taste of him. With no patience left, Bucky grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to release him from your mouth. His hot gaze met yours as a stinging yet delicious tug prompted a sharp gasp from your lips as tears welled in your eyes—the first of many for the evening.

“Don’t tease me, doll. I’ve had enough of being undermined today,” he groaned, his voice laced with cruel warning. “Now suck it like the pretty little whore I know you are for it.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll be your good little whore.”

Obediently complying, you engulfed his length as Bucky’s guttural groan vibrated off the shower walls. Your choice of words, and taking him all with no hesitation, only fueled his burning desire.

You took him deep, inch by thick inch until all of him nestled in your throat. Tears ran down your already wet cheeks, and the sensation of your lips wrapped around him and your throat suffocating his cock with your choked coughs made Bucky tip his head back in bliss. Moaning thickly, he pushed his hips forward into your compliant mouth.

Withdrawing to catch your breath, a thick string of saliva trailed from your lips to his tip. A testament to your eagerness to please the man above you.

“So gorgeous,” Bucky smirked, looking down at you with tears and saliva running down your chin. “Such an eager whore to please me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across your lips.

With no further hesitations, you wrapped your hand tightly around the base to jerk him off, while your mouth engulfed his swollen and leaking tip. Your hand and mouth worked in perfect sync—jerking him with force and delicious pressure while your head bobbed on his cock, slurping and sucking. Bucky’s hips met your movements, making you choke and gag by his rough thrusts. Your other hand squeezed and kneaded his firm ass cheek, pulling him closer and anchoring yourself to him as you sucked him off.

Bucky’s vocalization became a hot and heavy symphony of moans, groans, and every guttural sound in between—a testament to you working him thoroughly with your hands and mouth.

His hips jerked, his muscles tensing, on the verge of climax, and spilling into your mouth, and you wanted nothing more than a taste of him. But he pulled you off before he could finish down your throat, making you wheeze and chest heave to catch your breath after he released you.

Reading the disappointment on your face, he brushed your tear and water-stained cheeks and swollen lips, a smirk playing on his own. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ll come down your throat next time.” His voice was low and sultry, laced with delicious promise. “I need to feel your tight cunt wrapped around me, now.”

Helping you up, he met your lips in a sloppy kiss, slapping your ass with a force that made you gasp before turning you around and directing you to bend over for him on the marble bench.

You bent over, placing your forearms on the cold stone, presenting your ass for him. The view of both your tight holes a tantalizing sight for him.

During the blowjob, your pussy had throbbed with need, eager for the same treatment as your throat, and you had never felt as frustrated as you had now, waiting for his cock. Looking over your shoulder at Bucky, his fist jerking his cock as his hot and burning gaze trailed over your dripping cunt, which he would fill and come deep inside.

“Please, Bucky,” you cried. “I need you cock so bad.” Your voice thick with desperate desire to be fucked and used by him. “Please, please, fuck me. Use me. Use my cunt.” You knew after the day he had that the fuck would be brutal, and you would love nothing more. You loved his gentle and caring nature that he reserved only for you, but you also loved to be used and fucked like a whore by him. The duality of his two sides only makes you love him deeper with each passing day.

He chuckled, relishing the power he held over you, the absolute desperation in your pleading voice and submissive body. “Patience, doll,” he replied with a low growl. “I’ve had a rough day, and I will take my time with you.”

He firmly kneads your ass in his palms, rough hands grabbing and squeezing the flesh before delivering a sharp slap that sends a jolt of pleasurable pain up your spine. Your toes curl, and a whimper escapes your parted lips as the cruel laughter from Bucky fills the space. Despite the sobs and cries during the next two spanks, your pussy grows wetter at his cruelty, soaking your inner thighs.

Bucky curses under his breath, running two fingers through your messy folds, circling your needy clit in teasing strokes. A breath of relief escapes you at finally being stimulated, even though it’s not at the satisfaction you crave. He groans as he pushes two fingers inside your wet cunt, fucking it in slow strokes, making your breath shake at the stretch.

“What made you this wet, doll? Sucking and choking on my cock, or me spanking and bruising your ass?”

“B-both,” you reply with a shaky voice.

“That’s my good whore,” he growls, softly patting your ass where his brutal hands landed.

With the head of his cock, he teases your bundle of nerves, before slowly and oh-so-deliciously pushing his length inside your welcoming cunt. You moan and whine through your swollen and parted lips as he stretches you out to accommodate his size. “Fuck, so tight, baby.”

He forces the rest of his length balls deep, making you gasp, while he moans, at stuffing you completely. “Ah, fuck… so big,” you whine, closing your eyes and fists tightly, adjusting to him.

With a low, throaty chuckle in response to your reaction, Bucky gives you a moment before setting his rhythm, hands firmly gripping your soft hips, fingers digging into your skin.

He holds nothing back as he unleashes himself, intensifying the brutal pace, thrusting deeply into your pussy like his existence depends on it. The tip of his swollen cock repeatedly brushes against your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your nerves, eliciting soft whimpers from your lips.

“So good for me, doll. Such a tight, pretty pussy,” he grunts, lost in the sensation of your cunt and the pleasure it brings him.

You tilt your head to meet his burning gaze, the fiery passion in his eyes searing your exposed and submitted body before him.

“Fuck, it’s all yours, baby. All of me. Only for you,” you whimper, the soft symphony of your gentle whispers and moans enticing Bucky closer to the edge, fucking you roughly and chasing his high. “Keep using it, baby. Claim me. Take what you want,” you urge, your words a breathless plea for him to keep unleashing his pent-up anger and frustrations on your eager and pleading cunt.

As you ascend to pleasurable heights, your impending orgasm closing in swiftly, the clenching of your walls around his pulsating cock signals his pending release as well. His hand slides around your throat, lifting you upright amidst his primal thrusts.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? Come on my cock as I fill your greedy cunt?” His gruff voice sends a shiver down your spine.

The searing pleasure, coupled with the firm grip on your throat, leaves you with no choice but to nod, conveying that you are close to an eruption with an earth-shattering explosion.

“Open that pretty mouth for me and use your words, doll.” A sharp slap to your thigh jolts you out of the haze, prompting you to gather yourself and respond to his demand.

“Yes,” you managed to gasp. “I’m gonna come. I need you to come inside me, baby,” you cry, craving his warmth like a good whore.

With those pleading words, Bucky surges over the edge. His grunts and moans resonating against your skin as he fills you up with his cum. The sensation of him pulsing and filling within you and the rhythmic movement of his hips have you tumbling over the edge. Waves of your release ripple through your body, shaking and convulsing, your cries of pleasure echoing off the tiled walls.

“Good girl,” Bucky moaned against your skin. His fingers skillfully play with your engorged clit to heighten the downfall of your orgasm. “You take my cock and cum so well.” He continued to fuck and talk you through it, ensuring that your mind and body were consumed with nothing but pleasure and him.

The shared climax left you both suspended in the aftermath of your intense fucking. The air thick with echoes of your breathless satisfaction.

“Hmm, my good girl,” Bucky muttered, withdrawing from your used cunt and turning you around. The warm water of the shower continued to rain down on you both, washing away the shared evidence of your intense and passionate lovemaking.

Bucky cupped your cheeks, brushing his thumbs across the skin beneath your eyes. His hands, which held your body with force only moments ago, now cradled your face as if you were the most delicate of artworks, which to him, you were more than a masterpiece. He captured your lips, kissing you with a mix of passion and need. Your arms held his waist, bringing his slick body closer to yours.

“Let’s get out and dry off, doll. I need to bury my face in that pretty cunt of yours before I hold you in my arms and express how much you mean to me for the rest of the night.”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

[pathologicalreid]

hello!! i've been reading your spencer works for a while and they're definitely one of my favorites from this app :) so I'd like to request something :)

I've always loved the idea of spencer coming back home from a case earlier than expected and surprising reader (gf or wife) at work to pick her up! and reader could be a chemist or a scientist so spencer is interested and involved in her work somehow and they're just talking, being cute and fluffy and just happy to he together again <3 thank you for your time, and no pressure!

pure and applied chemistry | S.R.

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: fluff content warnings: fem!reader, chemical burns, lab incidents, yapper!reader, kisses word count: 1.06k a/n: i wasn't even going to post this today but i wrote it and fell in love with spencer and his biochemist gf!!!!! this might be a pairing that i start taking requests for - thank you so much for requesting!

The air was barely starting to chill in the district, making it still unseasonably warm as you tried to take off your jacket without removing your book bag. It would’ve been easy to be embarrassed, but you were the only person around this part of campus – most students had a Reading Day, but your lab was still open, and your graduate student still wanted to work.

You had been the last person in the lab that she approached with her idea, having been turned down by the rest of campus, but you weren’t one to turn down a challenge. In fact, you had been so bored in the lab that you considered applying for another PhD.

Tying the sleeves of your jacket around your waist, you pulled your phone out of the back pocket to check the campus transportation app. As you started typing in your passcode, your eyes caught on a notification from your boyfriend.

Spencer Reid, PhD: Not home until tomorrow.

Sending back a quick emoticon – because an emoji would just show up as a square on his phone – you switched to checking what time the bus was supposed to show up at your stop before a passing car caught your eye, the car slowed to a stop right in front of you. “Oh,” you said, shaking your head, “It’s illegal to idle at a bus stop!” You called out to the driver, “You can’t stop here!”

Startled, you took a step back when the driver opened their car door, gripping your phone tightly as you mentally prepared for a confrontation, but only ended up confused when a familiar mess of brown hair peeked over the roof of the vehicle, “You don’t recognize my car?”

“Of course, I recognize your car! I just didn’t think it could be your car because last you told me you were in Nebraska!” You said, outwardly complaining as he rounded the hood of the car to open the passenger door for you.

Spencer smiled at you over the car door, “I told a fib in order to reap the benefits of surprising my girlfriend at work. Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

Rolling your eyes as you sat in your seat, “Oh, I’m sure she could probably find the strength to forgive you.” You were beaming as Spencer took your book bag and placed it in the back seat.

As you buckled your seatbelt, Spencer got back behind the wheel, checking his mirrors before merging into the road, once you reached your first stop light, you noticed Spencer looking over at you, “What did you do to your arm?” He asked, making note of the gauze wrapped around your dominant forearm.

Frowning, you looked down at your arm, having previously forgotten the gauze was even there, “Chemical burn,” you answered indifferently, studying the first aid on your arm. “Not a bad one though, probably won’t even scar,” you added. “Oh, that reminds me, I need a new lab coat,” you blurted, fishing around the center console of Spencer’s car for a pen so you could scrawl a reminder on your uninjured forearm.

“How did you get a chemical burn on your arm?” Spencer asked, returning his eyes to the road when the light turned green. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he reached over and casually placed one hand on your denim-clad thigh.

You were no stranger to a small burn on your finger – you were fairly certain that your fingerprints were no longer a viable way of identification – but you usually got away with a thorough rinse and a unicorn band-aid. “My grad student, Leslie, mislabeled something in the lab. Another person tried to get me to report it, but Leslie cried so hard while she was helping me clean my arm that I didn’t want to get her in any sort of academic misconduct trouble. I mean, who knew that hydrochloric acid caused chemical burns anyway?”

Spencer deftly flicked the turn signal as he moved to get on the highway to his apartment, “Uh, you and I know,” he said, there was a critical tone in his voice, but it was directed toward your flippancy instead of the injury itself.

“It wasn’t super concentrated, so I’m really fine,” you insisted, telling him the same thing you had told Leslie when the incident occurred, “I’ve done worse.”

Smiling, your boyfriend shook his head, “It’s a wonder they still let you in chemistry labs.” He was referring to a burn you had given yourself a few months ago, leading to an embarrassing trip to the hospital where doctors had to debride a nasty burn to your thigh. That particular incident had led to the director of your lab gifting you an enamel pin, designed to look like a hazardous materials symbol.

You looked at him, watching intently as he exited off the highway and made it to his apartment. Not long ago, an impromptu trip to Spencer’s would’ve been an inconvenience, but now you had two drawers of his dresser as your own. He led the way up the stairs and you followed him through the door of apartment twenty-three.

Locking the door before turning all of his attention to you, he cupped your face in both of his hands before kissing both of your cheeks – right over the tender, red lines left by your lab goggles. “Promise me you’ll be more careful in the lab,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your waist and herding you over to the couch.

As you sat down on the couch, Spencer joined you, grabbing at your hips until you gave in, seating yourself in his lap, one knee on either side of his hips. You intertwined your fingers at the back of his neck, tilting your head to the side, “We’re all done with tests anyway – there will be considerably fewer chemicals involved while I get on my knees and grovel to the federal government for funding to start a clinical trial,” you told him, considering the repercussions of pressing your lips to his.

“What kind of chemicals could you possibly need to apply for federal research grants?” Spencer asked, gently resting his hands on your waist.

Beaming, you waggled your eyebrows at him, “One, three, seven-Trimethylpurine-two, six-dione, baby.”

Realization dawned on his features as he understood, “Ah, caffeine.”

[icejjfishesz]

𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐓 ❞ 𓄼˚ ▍ P.B.

❛ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆             ━━  based off this post by @iminlovewithkatemartin ! ❜

❛ 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁                ━━  literally just sex...feeling like a whore rn, lmao. top!paige. punishment ig?? bratty reader. ❜

❛ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁         ━━  1.4k! ❜

❛ 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲      ━━  prompt was TOO GOOD so hopefully i did it some soft of justice! ❜

paige was never the first to leave a party. she was often the center of attention –– a magnet that attracted the focus of all those around her. naturally, you loved that about her…her essence and simply seeing her thriving in her element. but there were times where you wanted her all to yourself. times like now, where she chatted her ass off and all you could focus on was the sound of her voice. or when 1am comes and goes and all you think about is how good she smelled as she pulls your body closer to hers. paige is an anomaly. somehow always managing to give you all her attention yet making it feel like not enough. paige made you greedy and she knew it. it’s evident in the way she rubs your thigh a little too high as she’s sitting next to you but still never looks in your direction. it was like a mutual secret, one between only you and her, she knew how badly you wanted her right now but she was gonna make you wait for it.

by 2am you’ve grown antsy, barely replying to paige when she speaks to you. she knows you’re ready to go, she knows you’re almost too horny to function. she almost feels bad at you when she sees that slight frown plastered on your lips or when she notices the way your hips shift awkwardly every once in a while.

she says something to you, a cute little smile on her lips that you honestly hate right now. you want to leave. you don’t even hear what she said, not as if you planned on responding anyways. then you roll your eyes. paige blinks a few times, a little confused. 

“baby?” her voice is gentle, genuinely concerned but she’s been feeling on your thigh for over an hour and she knows how bad you want her. you understand that giving her even a slight attitude won’t work out in your favor…but you don't care. you’re upset and you want her to know it.

“what?” the sass is evident. unable to be underplayed or considered inscrutable. it takes paige aback and the few people within earshot all look at each other because they catch it too. you wanted her to know you were pissed? well, now she knows.

paige clenches her jaw, leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “is it time to go, baby?”

you shiver, the hairs on your neck staring when she lowers her voice like that. the words, if heard by an untrained ear, might be considered sweet. they could be mistaken as  paige understanding you (which she does) and being sweet about it (which is most definitely not how she planned on handling you). but you knew better. you knew the words were a warning. they translate roughly to ‘you wanna fix your fucking tone before we have a probelm?’ it’s her way of giving you a second chance. 

“it’s been time to go.” she extended an olive branch but you don’t take it. you’ll pay for that later.

paige simply grabs your hand and quickly says goodbye to a few people as she leads you to her car. she opens your door for you despite being annoyed with you before she shuts it and walks around the other side. you can’t take your eyes off of her as she starts the car. neither of you speak. you sealed your own fate and you know it.

the drive is tense and silent. it seems like every passing second heart beats just a little bit faster. you could only imagine the price you’d have to pay for your little stunt.

which is exactly how you ended up here, on paige’s lap as her hands roamed over your hips. “i’m sorry…” you groan but you both know you don’t mean it.

“yeah? for what?” paige hums casually. as though anything about this situation is casual. she’s shirtless and you’re naked on her lap begging for her to fuck you. the view seems familiar, she’s had you like this one way or another a million times over but she never tires of it. she wants nothing more than to lay you down and shove her face in between your thighs but she refrains. she ignores your wandering hands, ignores the whine in your voice, ignores the need in your eyes…she needs to teach you a lesson.

“i didn't even do anything!” you grumble.

“you rolled your eyes at me and gave me unnecessary attitude.” she gives you a look that says ‘be serious’. you go to respond but then you feel her thigh tense, it makes you moan which she chuckles about.

“i’m not even touching you yet…”

“shut up.” you grumble, unable to stop yourself from grinding into her clothed thigh. she can feel the warmth even through her pants as you rub against her. it takes absolutely everything in here not to say fuck teaching you a lesson to just do everything that she knew would make you moan her name. “please…i need you.”

“it’s not good enough, hm?” she mocks you. “shouldn’t have had all that fucking attitude then. next time just tell me you wanna leave.”

you desperately try and find some way to vindicate yourself but your mind is blank, you decide it’s probably best to just focus on the task at hand. you grind against her, feeling yourself get wetter the more she touches you in every place except where you need her. it feels good. the friction against your clit making you whine…it isn’t enough and she knows it. “please, baby…”

“please what?”

“please make me come…i can’t do it like this.” she adores the pout on face, it renders her unable to stop herself from locking her lips with her own.

she bites her lip, basking in the weight of it all. the weight of your body on top of hers isn't heavy, but the knowledge that she is completely in control of you is. her hands effortlessly move around your body, reminding you of just how well she knows your body –– how easily she could make you feel good. she’d spent over a year tracing every single part of your body with her hands and mouth, she’s memorized you completely. she knows exactly how to tease you. 

she kisses you with everything in her, swallowing every sound you make as you grind deeper into her thigh. you can smell her shampoo and you tangle your fingers in her hair. she trails her hand down from your hip to between your legs. she feels just how sucked you are from grinding on her thigh.

she laughs in your face, pulling her lips away from yours and licking away the spit that coats her lips. “you’re so wet…” she slides a finger through your fold and back up to caress your clit. she’s mocking your need, acting as if she wasn’t just as wet as you are. she knows you want it. but she wants you to need it.

“cause you’ve been teasing me all night…” you whisper, practically panting. your hands are braced on her shoulders and lift yourself off her thigh so she can touch you easier. she pushes her long finger in and out of you so slow that it’s cruel. but you cling onto her. after all that teasing, it’s enough to have you reeling.

you shut your eyes, grinding into her hand and then she stills her fingers, making you whine again. “no, please…keep going.”

she brings her face down to such a hickey just above your collarbone, you can’t help but buck into her hand in frustration.

“keep doing that.” she mumbles into your skin, letting her teeth graze against you and nearly making you topple over.

“what?” you’re looking at her expectantly, she can look in your eyes and tell you’re waiting for her to do it for you but she’s having none of it. you’re probably making a mess of her fingers, your soaked pussy dripping at how badly you crave her. what has she done to you?  

“nuh uh, you wanna come then go ahead” she laughs in your face, sitting back and politely pressing her thumb into your clit just to watch your hips jolt at the pressure. you feel your shoulders slump when she smiles up at you the way she does when she knows she has you exactly where she wants you. 

you whimper again, unable to process her words properly when all you hear is she’s not gonna make you cum. “paige…” you’re so pent up you’d do pretty much anything she asked you to do right now. you can’t even speak, only focused on the next words that leave her mouth. 

“…lemme see you ride that shit, baby…”

[steveharringtonat3am]

no thoughts just riding steve after a stressful day at work

smut 18+, mentions of alcohol, adorable boyfriend steve, reader on top, penetration

You’re still cursing as you swing the apartment door open, letting it close in a much harsher fashion than normal. You had spent the entire day irritated. Your boss, your coworkers, and even your clients had managed to piss you off. You kick your heel off, letting them fly into the corner by the door as you head to the kitchen.

You had spent the car ride practically dreaming about the wine you were about to have. The glass has barely touched your lips when a voice perks up.

“Tough day?” Steve calls from the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose and a book in hand. Something in you melts when you see him and your feet carry you over to him on instinct.

He sets the book down as you climb into his lap, putting your wine glass next to his kicked up feet on the table.

“It was horrible.” He rubs your back as you lay your head on his shoulder, taking a few breaths. You don’t wanna direct your anger to Steve so you have to calm down just a little.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” His fingers tangle with yours as you sit up to face him. Steve has always been pretty, you knew that the day you met him, but he was especially gorgeous on nights like this. Maybe it was the pure domesticity of it. Your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, sitting on your couch in his pyjamas on a Friday night. You almost couldn’t believe it.

“I’m just glad you’re here.” You relax against him once more.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” His big hands rub up and down the exposed skin of your legs.

“Honestly it was so stressful just talking about it might piss me off again.” You mumble against his neck.

“Do you wanna talk about it while you ride me? That always works wonders for your stress.” You can hear the smile in his voice but the offer is sincere.

“Yeah?” You confirm, already excited at the idea.

“Go ahead sweetheart.” He winks as you shift his pants down just enough to reveal his cock. He’s already half hard so it only takes a few strokes to get him ready.

Ever the gentleman, Steve is already bunching your pencil skirt around your waist, eyes dark behind his glasses when he sees your red thong.

“What’s this?” He plays with the fabric over your hip, licking his lips.

“It doesn’t show panty lines.” You smile as you sit up and pull the fabric to the side to take the tip of his cock.

Steve is big. Bigger than most, so riding him is usually a challenge. Luckily, it’s one that you’re always up for.

“There you go baby…” He groans as you sink down on him, already soaked.

“God this is exactly what I needed.” You moan as you start to move up and down. You take it nice and slow, letting yourself adjust. There’s no urgency in your movements. You have all the time in the world.

“So, what pissed you off?” Steve kisses along your collarbone between words, making you giggle at the sensation.

“Just-just my coworkers being stupid. Can you believe Danielle didn’t overnight the contracts I gave her? Then Mr. Zelleman got mad at me for it! It was so-so stupid.” As Steve helps you move up and down on him, you start to care less and less about work and more about how incredible his cock feels.

“So stupid…” He mumbles in agreement, kissing at your neck in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. You can’t be bothered about it though, as you start to move faster. Your stomach tightens in a very familiar way. Steve’s hands tighten their grip on yours, hips jutting up to meet your own. You press your lips against his desperately as your orgasm hits you. Pleasure that you can hardly contain shoots through you as the warmth of Steve’s orgasm fills you. As the euphoria fades, so does your energy.

You slump against Steve’s chest, his arms coming around to hug you. There’s not a thought in your head as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“…About what?”

[bowlofsoob]

O5 thank you next — go ahead and log out for me

SOOBIN’S POV

notes; all of soobin’s accounts are yn and all of yns accounts are soobin until the end of their birthday

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

In the early glow of the morning, Soobin, now inhabiting his soulmate’s body, sat nervously in the passenger seat of the car he’d just gotten picked up in. Taehyun and Hueningkai, as he’d come to recently learn, were exchanging awkward glances in the rearview mirror as Soobin’s own songs played through the car’s speakers.

“So, uh, hope you’re okay with your own music on the playlist,” Hueningkai said from the passenger seat, “It’s just what we usually play.”

Soobin couldn’t help but feel fond of them, they were his fans after all.

“It’s cool, I actually really love this one,” he answered, his own unfamiliar voice startling him.

“We thought it might help with adjusting,” Taehyun added, a faint hue of pink on his cheeks.

Soobin could only nod in response, picking at the fabric of his pants. Nothing in his soulmate’s closet adhered to his taste, and most of it just consisted of poorly designed graphic tees.

The car descended into an uneasy quietness, broken only by the familiar melodies spilling out of the speakers that seemed oddly intimate with Soobin now present.

“You guys seem a bit shy, anything on your mind?” Soobin tentatively asked in an attempt to break the tension with the two people he would be spending the rest of the day with.

“It’s just that having our idol in the car, even if it’s in our friend’s body, is kinda surreal,” Hueningkai smiled, stumbling over his words.

"We’re not used to this level of…fame?” Taehyun replied.

“I get it, I’m not used to being on this side of things either,” Soobin replied, trying to relate.

As they approached their apartment, Soobin couldn't help but feel a strange connection with his soulmate’s friends. As Taehyun parked the car they all hesitated before stepping out, still unsure of themselves in each other’s presence.

“This is so weird,” Hueningkai marvels.

Soobin can’t help but laugh, “Tell me about it.”

As they entered the apartment the trio settled into the living room rather awkwardly. Soobin couldn’t help but take notice of the memorabilia of himself surrounding them, he’d never expected to see how one of his fan’s lives up close.

Even though he was navigating an unfamiliar shyness he found comfort in the tentative smiles of his soulmate’s friends.

// // //

In one of their cramped bedrooms, Soobin, now uncomfortably squeezed into your body, stared blankly at the physics textbook.

“Okay, let's go through this again,” Taehyun sighed, “The laws of thermodynamics is the transfer of—"

“You lost me at thermo,” Soobin muttered, flipping through the flashcards laid out in front of him halfheartedly.

“This is hopeless, how is he supposed to pass the exams?” Taehyun mumbled to Hueningkai.

“Maybe if we play his songs backward, he'll absorb physics knowledge by osmosis,” Hueningkai sadly jokes, half serious.

“Backwards songs?” Soobin asks as he looks up, “That’s a thing?”

“We’re getting off track, let’s try this one more time,” Taehyun sighs, directing Soobin’s attention towards his notebook.

They spent the few hours they had before the exams attempting to explain concepts, drawing diagrams, and resorting to desperate analogies involving concert stages and sound waves. However, Soobin struggled to grasp the complexities of physics and mathematics. He was fucked.

“I’m sorry, this is all like a foreign language to me,” Soobin says, feeling bad with how hard they were trying.

Truth is he gave up hours ago when Hueningkai started singing formulas to him in an attempt to get him to memorize them. As the minutes dragged on, Soobin’s lack of concern became more apparent.

He just didn’t care enough.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

extra filler

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

masterlist — prev | next

comment on this post if i can use ur username in future chapters as a fan account!

୨୧✧ — author notes; hi guys sorry for the wait 😔 i was off at war (finals week)

୨୧✧ — synopsis; in a universe where you and your soulmate swap bodies on your twenty-first birthday and every birthday after that. world renowned soloist soobin is set to have a concert on the day of your guys’ shared birthday, a firm believer he doesn’t have a soulmate and wants nothing to do with them. you, a college student who hasn’t listened to a single one of his songs, swap bodies with him on the day of your final exam and his big concert. you’re now under the public eye for ruining his career and soobin has to deal with your wrath since he failed your exams. he must also process the fact that he does in fact have a soulmate, one he couldn’t care less about.

ᝰ✧ — [1/3] taglist is open! @cartierfiles @lunavixia @jungwonderz @bubblytaetae @goldennika @zzzavid @astrozuya @odisdad @destairea @iwaplant @itssaturdaytoday @hoodiebangtan @starchasing-cryptid @outerspace02a @buttersmama @luvtyun @vianna99 @matcha-binz @doumachi @pinghyuka @soobsdior @binluvsu @tyussday @xavi-in-kpopland @bervaose @birdie-vhs @hearts4huening @reyarain @gyubatuu @tridentgumfreshy @rjsmochii @ckline35 @mochiixsstuff @bluuswanrina @beomnioa @bluxjun @yelsuki @gugggu6gvai @thesassy-mia @222brainrot @itswinteress @cindywasneverhere @kimgyuuu @fatoompie @haohyo @jongseongslvr @soobinsman @wolfytae-exe @huening-kawaii @malarign @tocupid @phtogravi

[bbunisre]

02: MEGUMI IS LIGHTWEIGHT (1.3k words)

Panda’s parties are always the same—borderline annoying, misogynistic rap music pulsating in your ears and a lot of dancing. A lot. So when you enter the party, swinging your car keys with your fingers and shooting acknowledging nods at mutuals, you’re not surprised to see the same once again.

“They’re here!” a rogue Panda yells, coming through with a red cup.

He hands another one he's holding to you, an unspoken understanding of your frequent drinking habits. It wasn’t that you were an alcoholic (past you would say something else) but you were known for your high tolerance.

“Where’s that bastard Toge? I need to have a word with him.” I ask Panda.

“Oh, I think he’s upstairs. Probably making out with some chick, I don’t know.” Panda shrugs easily.

Even if Panda is the closest to Toge, you know in a heartbeat that Toge is not easily drawn to the temptations of lust as easily as Panda thinks he is. In fact, you guess that Toge's most likely playing on his Switch upstairs, avoiding the party that Panda’s forced him to come to.

You turn to Tsumiki, “I’ll go. Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” she smiles at me, “Come back soon though. Don’t kill Toge.”

Megumi’s listening to your conversation whilst Yuuji and Nobara argue about who’s the beer pong champion out of the two of them at the entrance of the house. You pull them by their sleeves so they’re not in the way of passing guests anymore.

Sometimes, it feels like you’re babysitting them.

“Can’t promise, babes,” you tell her with a half-shrug.

Tsumiki’s phone starts ringing, “One second.”

She steps out to take the call, leaving you and Megumi a foot apart from each other, “Megumi, how about you?”

“Sorry?” he asks.

Forgetting what Toge's said is a lot more challenging than you expected. You push down the uneasiness in your gut.

“It’s your first party, is it not? How are you feeling?” you ask.

Megumi's expressions are hard to read but after being around him for so long, you’ve become accustomed to his body language.

“I will be alright. Thank you.” he replies politely.

You smile, patting his shoulder, “I’ll come and check on you later.”

Megumi nods and you take your leave to the second floor, a breath of fresh air coddling you at the escape. When you see the familiar Toge in Panda’s bedroom, your estimate is correct. Toge is sprawled on Panda’s bed, playing some Otome game on his Switch. He says he plays it because it’s cringe and he wants to make fun of it...you're starting to think that he really does enjoy it.

“Y/N.” Toge notes.

“Toge.” you reply, sitting on the bed next to him.

He switches off the game and turns to you as you take a languid sip of the drink, “Has Megumi asked you out yet?”

You almost choke in the process, furrowing your eyebrows and swallowing properly. Setting the drink aside, you hit Toge, “You’re out of your mind. He doesn't like me.”

“I mean, it’s always been kind of obvious if you ask me.”

“What are you talking about?” you sigh, “There’s nothing. You’re being delusional.”

Toge rolls his eyes, “No, you are. And he does have a massive crush on you because he was so desperate to believe that you didn’t like girls.”

“That’s a huge sentence coming from your mouth,” you comment, laying down next to him.

The reverberations of the music downstairs make its way up Panda’s creepy staircase and into the bedroom walls.

“He does,” Toge affirms, “I’m sure of it. Besides those tweets, there’s definitely something there.”

“Why are you so insistent about it?” you ask, turning to the white-haired boy.

It’s odd; Toge is usually reserved and calm so when you see him ramble passionately about Megumi, you’re not too sure what it can mean.

“I don’t know,” he answers, turning to you also, “But remember when you broke up with…?”

He waits with bated breath for you to approve.

You sigh, “You can say Choso, Toge.”

“Yeah, Choso...” he nods along, “When you broke up with him last year, he always asked about you through me. You were a mess, a really bad mess, like a really, really, really—“

“A mess. Got it.” you state, remembering those tearful nights.

“Don’t know why he didn’t ask Tsumiki. Maybe he was scared of being found out. Maybe—“

“Maybe he didn’t want Tsumiki to keep thinking about me. Don’t you remember how worried she was about me then? He probably didn’t want to pressure her and he couldn’t ask me because I wasn’t talking to anyone.” you theorise.

“I mean, you could be right but those Tweets.”

“The kids were probably just making fun of him.” you say, getting up.

“Where you going?” he asks.

“Chill, princess. I'm not gonna leave you now.” you respond, walking towards the opened balcony. You can’t believe Panda gets this whole view to himself.

Toge follows you outside and the two of you sink onto the couch outside, watching the neighbourhood as Toge passes you a joint from Panda’s secret stash.

An hour later, you remembered that you’d go check on Megumi. Sure Tsumiki is there too but she’s super popular, everyone will be talking to her while Megumi explores the unfamiliar terrain by himself.

So you say goodbye to the high Toge and walk back downstairs. Everyone’s dancing and hands drag you to dance but you push them away, saying you need to use the bathroom.

“Where is he?” you ask yourself, wondering around Panda’s house.

You see Tsumiki and Panda talking on the couch, Yuuji and Nobara playing beer pong but where’s Megumi? He's gotta be here somewhere.

“Y/N…”

A heavy hand lands around your shoulders.

“Megumi! Are you okay?”

Megumi’s lids are heavy as he leans onto you.

“Did you drink?”

“I…I thought he said it was a mocktail. I think I had too many cocktails.”

Of course he did.

“Okay, relax. I can’t drive right now because I drank too, but we can go out for a breather, how does that sound? There isn’t much space here for you to sit down.”

Megumi nods, barely processing your words with his eyes closed.

You inhale and prepare for the journey through the pushy and overly welcoming crowd as you make your way to the front door. The excited partygoers ask about his conditions but you give them brief summaries as you battle through the crowd. Finally, when you’re through the front door with a heavy Megumi, you make him sit on the porch’s stairs, “Wait here. I’m gonna get Tsumiki to drive you home.”

As you’re about to leave, he grabs your bicep, “Don’t go.”

You’re staring.

Very obviously staring.

“Please…” he whispers weakly.

“Okay, I won’t.” you answer, sitting next to him. There aren’t many people coming in and out of the party now. Most of them are getting drunk.

Right now, you’re trapped in your own world with Megumi. The last thing you wanted to do tonight, especially after what Toge told you. You didn't know he cared for you that much.

But it can't be true. Megumi can't like you. You're his sister's best friend.

The silence is louder than the rap music playing inside.

“How are you feeling?”

“I regret coming.” he responds.

Slowly, his head tips to your shoulder. You’re not sure if he’s realised he’s done it or the alcohol has consumed every working thought in him.

All you can muster is a nod as you’re glued to his side—thighs pressed together, shoulders smashed and his unruly hair prickling your cold neck.

If what Toge says is true, which it’s not, what would you do in this situation? Would you confront Megumi or would you flee?

“I can go get Tsumiki—“

“Y/N.” he states.

“Yes, Megumi?”

You can’t stop that gut-wrenching sensation in your stomach. Megumi looks up at you, long eyelashes fluttering open. You know what’s coming before it even comes.

“I like you. I like you a lot.”

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

TAGLIST: @k4romis @moonmalice @ahseyy @loltartaglia @sircatchungus @rinowinne @sad-darksoul @br66klynbaby @nymphsdomain @pastatata @tobaccosunbxrst @zellwa @porcobrainr0t 

LENA'S NOTES - another chapter because ily guys <33

[planetpedri]

Silver lining — Florian Wirtz.

Pairing: Florian Wirtz x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’d locked yourself out of your apartment, your phone was dead, nobody was home, so your only option was to ask your new neighbor for help. Even though that small inconvenience sucked, you were about to be eternally grateful.

Word count: 1.2k

Disclaimer/s: FLUFF! FLUFF! also reader being a little paranoid cuz stranger danger but not really iykwim.

A/N: This plot literally came to my head right before i was about to take a nap so i put it in my notes so i could write later and i’m sooooo. guys. guys this may be my favorite plot.

There was no way this was happening to you. There was absolutely no fucking way this was happening right now! You gripped your purse a little tighter, kneeling to the floor so you could spread it out further. You checked every pocket, every crevice, and they were nowhere to be seen.

You had forgotten your keys at your sister’s house, or in her car, or— You mind was spinning, trying to place exactly where you’d had them last.

Then your brain lit up, you needed to call your sister. She’d bring them over! Grabbing your phone, you tap the screen, but it doesn’t turn on. Your face scrunches as you tappen it rapidly, clicking the side button too. That’s when you’re met with the red battery sign. Great. Your phone was dead, too.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your things and shove them into your purse. You only had one option right now and that was to ask one of your neighbors to borrow their phone.

Not your favorite idea, but the only one that you had at that moment.

Standing up from the ground, you glance around the hallway. Five options. The old married couple at the end who always gave you the creeps, a girl named Julia, who was probably too busy working… the options went on until you landed on the door right across from yours.

The new guy. You’d never talked to him, never seen him, just heard of him from Julia, who was a gossiper through and through.

Red flags flew across your mind as you took timid steps closer. Stranger danger. But, at the end of the day, you weren’t that scared. You always took risks, so there was no reason to be nervous. All you needed was his phone, and that’s it!

Bringing your fist up to the door, you knock. One… Two… Three… “I’m coming! Hold on!” A man’s voice shouts from the other side, not rude or anything, just assuring you he was going to open it soon.

You take a small step away from the door when you hear the lock clicking open and the doorknob turning. It swings open to reveal a confused man, his bleached hair damp as if he’d just showered. Your theories are confirmed when you see water stains on his gray shirt.

Swallowing thickly, you raise a quick hand in greeting. “Hey.. i’m your neighbor! Uhm, I got locked out, my phone is dead, and I was wondering if I could borrow your phone to call my sister?” You speak quickly, suddenly all too nervous. Not because he was a stranger, but because he was.. well. He was hot.

Your new neighbor was hot and he was making you very nervous. This was new. And he looked familiar, though you couldn’t quite place why.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he nods his head, opening the door wider to give you a clear view of his apartment. “Of course. It’s on the charger, you can wait inside if you want?”

Stranger danger! Stranger danger! “Thank you! I appreciate that,” you smile, following him inside.

The door falls shut behind you, and you take a moment to recognize this was how a lot of true crime stories start. But, you don’t make a move to leave. Instead, you follow him into the living room area, appreciating how clean it was.

Another thing that surprised you. Most men who lived alone weren’t this neat. Then you feel slightly disappointed, he must have a girlfriend.

The blonde unplugs his phone, handing it to you. “Password’s ten-seventeen.” He nods, moving to sit down on a brown sofa.

Taking the device gratefully, you unlock the phone and move to the calling app. “Thank you, again.” You say before dialing your sister, pressing the phone to your ear.

She picks up on the fourth ring, and you explain your situation quickly. Unfortunately, she was already home, so it would take her twenty minutes at the very least, to get back to you.

Sighing a quick thanks, you hang up. “She’s like, twenty minutes away! Thank you, here’s your phone…” You trail off, realizing you never asked his name.

“Florian.” He nods, taking the phone back. “You’re welcome to wait here…” He does the same trailing off, and you laugh. You tell him your name and a smile graces his lips. He repeats it, lips curling into a grin. “That’s a pretty name, it’s nice to meet you.”

Your face flushes at the compliment. “Oh, uh, thank you! Wow, i’ve told you that like twelve times in the past ten minutes!” You’re in a flustered, rambling state, completely embarrassing yourself.

But Florian just smiles, finding it endearing. “So, how long have you lived here?” He asks, motioning for you to sit down.

You take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, turning your body towards him as you get comfortable. “About… two years now? I originally lived with my sister, but she got married and moved out.” You had no idea why you were telling him random facts you didn’t need to say, but he listened intently anyways. “How about you? I haven’t really seen you around.”

“Just a few months, but I travel a lot, so i’m rarely here.” That’s when it clicks. That’s why he looks so familiar.

Your eyes widen, “oh my God. You’re a footballer.” Now you were extremely embarrassed. Your sister is definitely going to freak when she realizes who you’re with.

Florian rubs the back of his neck, nodding sheepishly. “That I am.”

“That’s cool.” You play it off, not wanting to seem too geeked about it. You had to act normal.

Florian nods, his lip twitching slightly. “Uhm, so, what do you do for work?”

The rest of the twenty minutes goes by smoothly, conversations flowing between you two easily and comfortably. You’d grown to enjoy his company, and he clearly felt the same.

You’d charged your phone while you two spoke, so when you get the notification that your sister had arrived, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. Florian’s eyes flicker to your phone, his lips forming a thin line.

“Well… I suppose I should go.” You stand slowly, subconsciously trying to spend a little more time. Florian stands as well, taking his sweet time walking you to the door.

He hesitates, his hand on the door knob, “we should do this again sometime?” He suggests, eyes trailing up to your face.

You attempt to suppress a smile, nodding quickly. “Yes!” Too fast. “I mean… yeah, no for sure.” You shrug, lips darting out to wet your lips nervously.

He quietly chuckles, turning the doorknob and opening it to allow you to leave. “Are you busy tomorrow?” He asks, stepping aside to let you through.

Once you were back in the hallway, you turn back around to face him. “I have work till four, but I should be free after that!”

“Good,” he hums, “knock on my door whenever you want, i’ll be here.” After exchanging a quick goodbye, he shuts the door, leaving you with a wide smile on your face.

Forgetting your keys just became the best inconvenience you’ve ever had.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @spidybaby !

[wizkiddx]

bringing him home

complete fluff, sad lando, and not proofread so apologies x

Not to be dramatic but Lando was done. He’d had a crappy weekend of bad luck, damage, bad strategy and also (he would admit) a bad performance. It was the second last race before summer break, which couldn’t possibly come soon enough. 

He felt guilty. Felt guilty he couldn’t of performed more for the team; guilty he let his frustatration show on radio; guilty he’d been in a crap mood and not let the team even try to pick; guilty that he couldn’t let himself sleep on the plane.

It was a form of self torture. But he couldn’t stop.

He had been short with everyone, but especially Jon- who he knew was only ever trying to look out for him. All he really wanted to do was to get home and crash in bed for some more self loathing.

Mumbling a few quick goodbyes to the part of the team on the same flight as him, Lando swiftly turned his back on his friends to make his usual route.

Landing at Heathrow meant he had his usual, lone wolf routine to get back home. A guy he had known for years - Waleed- would pick him up.

Back when Lando lived in Woking, Waleed had been hired by mclaren to drive him to all the events his calendar was packed with. They had a mutual respect for each other but Waleed was a man of few words. Which right now Lando felt like he needed, a familiar face asking how he was might be enough to send the young man over the edge. 

Car park 2, floor 4, bay number 168. 

That’s where he was off to.

Waleed always came to pick him up from Heathrow. When it was good, Lando would invite a few team members of the preorganised coach to join him. And when it was like it was today, Lando would have only his own company to deal with. 

It wasn’t even home anymore, the young driver lived in Monaco and purely came back for mclaren and for social reasons. And right now he fancied neither. 

But duty called.

Cautiously, not to bring about any attention, Lando peeled off from the large group of mclaren workers who were on their way to the coach stop. With his hood up, shoulders hunched and staring at the ground as much as possible he thankfully didn’t garner any attention. He knew this route like clockwork- down the elevators and across the walkway to the multi-storey; get the lift up four floors and walk left to the back corner. 

Everything felt heavy as he dragged his notoriously over packed suitcase across the smooth tarmac. He just wanted bed.

But as he rounded the corner his mood only got stormier. Waleeds car was definetely not around. Instead parked in his space was a beat up black small car. Grumbling to no one in particular, Lando got out his phone to question Waleed - who was normally very prompt and reliable. 

Before he could though, the slam of a car door shutting directed his attention back to the space he was wishing Waleed was in.

“Car park 2, go to level four , park in bay 168. You don’t make this easy do you?” 

Yes it was sarcastic, but I’m the softest,caring and most gentle way. And Lando felt everything in his body and mind sag, with a familiar sigh.

“I got the afternoon off work, so I guess I turned up.” Lando still stood still, a confused look demonstrating to Y/n she needed to explain. “Max texted me and I think Jon told him you weren’t feeling great. Unfortunately, Max said you were now my problem so…” 

Of course, Jon had told on him. And of course, especially after their little ‘manly’ heart to heart a week or so ago, Max had decieded Y/n was actually the greatest comfort to him. 

“is…is it ok that I’m here? I didn’t want to presume but Max-“ she was inturrupted as Lando started taking great strides and threw his arms round her shoulders.

He didn’t verbally reply, instead nodding into her neck and then pulling her impossibly closer, which she assumed to be a sign he were getting a bit emotional. So she just stayed, hugging him tightly back in return.

Her insecurity was not without reason. Lando and y/n had known each other for years, but only got close and started dating 3 months ago. It had been an immediate perfect fit and felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

But this was the first time she was being exposed to his incredibly vulnerable side, and Y/n did not take this lightly. Especially given the fact he hadn’t really had a choice.

After what was probably not more than 30 seconds, Lando muttered a ‘thankyou’ and pulled away so they were face to face. Only then did y/n really see just how exhausted he looked. The normally glowing, tanned skin was abnormally pale and almost clammy. Unsurprisingly his eyes were sunken in- but worse was sort of dullness of his usually brilliant green eyes. He was more than just tired, he was mentally checked out too. 

“Get inside, left the heater on” she smiled warmly before pressing a quick peck to his lips. Following the instructions almost too well, Lando completely failed to remember his suitcase, which still stood aimlessly in the middle of the car park - from where he had first seen his girlfriend. With a sad sigh Y/n walked back to grab it - placing it in the boot before rounding the car to the drivers side. 

“So, we can go wherever you like. Max said Bristol, said your mums keen to see you.” Lando looked motionless at that, so Y/n attempted another option. “ Or you’re welcome at mine, or we could just got the hotel mclaren booked for you?” Impossibly, Y/n saw his face fall further at the last option, which she quickly crossed off her mental list. 

“‘m just really glad you’re here… wanna be with you.”  He kind of looked embarrassed, fiddling with his fingers as he muttered those words - not appreciating the way Y/n started glowing with warmth to it. 

“I’m by your side no matter what… you deciede where you want us to be for these few days.” 

Admittedly Y/n hadn’t planned such a sad way for her to meet Landos family, but they were serious enough that it was only a matter of time, so why not in hsi hour of need? She also firmly believed being around more people who knew him and could comfort him through it all. And, by the way he talked about them, Y/n wasn’t particularly scared to meet them - they all sounded lovely. She just wanted them to like her. 

“You’ll come to my parents?”

“If thats where you want to be then yes, of course I will. “ Lando nodded and tears started to water, just from how overwhelming the weekend had been compared to how impossibly calm he felt now just because Y/n was with him. 

She’d been prepared for this eventuality after Max described just how bad a state Lando appeared to be in, a little overnight bag and Max’s ‘shortcut’ way to get to the Norris family house avoiding the rush hour traffic. When Y/n held Landos eye contact long enough for him to know she was sincere, Lando leaned over the centre console to hug her tightly once again. 

“I’m really really glad its you here.” He wasn’t evn sure if she coulf hear it- but of course Y/n heard. 

“I’m telling Waleed you said that”

Even when he felt thihs exhausted, self-defeated and shitty, Y/n could make him laugh. He pulled back and just watched as Y/n turned the key in car, then started fiddling with her phone. 

“Right my playlist cos i’m driving and I want no complaints ok?” She shot him a fake serious scowl, before reversing out of the space. 

Lando just watched, watched the way she darted her eyes to the rear view mirror every two seconds  as thought she was taking her driving test again. And the way she bit the right side of her lip as she wound her way through the tighter exit ramps of the car park. And the way her fourth finger tapped to the beat of the Bruno Major song playing - such a small movement even Y/n probably hadn’t noticed she was doing it. Even to her crappy music. 

He was only caught out in his staring later, when her little 11 year old vw polo merged onto the motorway towards his childhood home. Predictably she blushed, rolling her eyes at him, whilst remaining lazar-like focus on the road in front. 

“Stop staring  creep.” He didn’t to that statement, choosing to start his own conversation.

“I really love you, you know that?”

“Of course I do, and I love you more.” Uncharacteristically for her normal driving to the rule book, Y/n took one hand off the wheel and rested it on the centre console - holding out for her boyfriends back. “Now, try get some rest hey? I promisse to try and not crash the car while you sleep.”

“I’ve never felt less relaxed.”

But, of course, he was joking and after an 18 hour journey of the equivalent of tossing and turning in an airplane seat, it took all of 5 mins in the safe and warm atmosphere of his girlfriends car to nod off. 

Because for the first time in a couple of weeks Lando was truly comfortable squeezed into the miniature car to the tune of an artist he normally hated. 

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 6

Other Chapters:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: After returning from a press tour in New York, Glen reconnects with Gabby at a local bar where they meet up with their mutual friends, Tanner and Kayla. The evening is full of easy conversation and laughter, and Glen and Gabby share a walk back to her apartment. The chemistry between them is undeniable, and once inside, they share a tender, intimate moment that deepens their connection. In the quiet aftermath, Glen stays the night, and the two of them wake up together the next morning. As they enjoy breakfast, they open up about their families and childhoods. Glen listens attentively, offering support and comfort. The chapter closes with a simple, quiet moment of companionship as they share a calm morning together, setting the stage for what comes next in their growing relationship.

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Alcohol Use, Making Out, Semi-Nudity (People in their underwear), Mentions of Parental Death, Mentions of Trauma related to car accidents.

A/N: Please let me know your thoughts with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado

The plane’s wheels hit the tarmac with a gentle thud, and Glen exhaled a relieved breath. The press tour for Twisters had been exhausting, and though he loved his job, there was something about having a few weeks off that helped him relax. He had a few meetings or appearances here or there, but for the most part, he had two weeks to just enjoy some time off before he started filming his next project. The soft hum of the plane’s engines slowly faded as he made his way through the airport, his body feeling the weight of the past week of travel and interviews.

As soon as he stepped outside the terminal, the cool evening air greeted him, and without hesitation, he pulled out his phone, dialed Gabby’s number, and waited for the call to connect.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said when she answered, his voice low and familiar, a hint of excitement in it. “I just landed.”

"Hey," she responded, her voice a little breathless, as though she'd been holding on to the phone for this exact moment. "Welcome back!"

"Thanks. I’m so ready to see you. What are you up to tonight?"

Gabby hesitated, glancing over at Tanner and Kayla, who were chatting at the table. They were at The Backdoor Lounge, a trendy bar a few blocks from her apartment. It had been their usual spot lately, a place to unwind and talk about life. Gabby didn’t want to assume they would be okay with Glen wanting to crash their night, so she muted the phone briefly.

“Hey,” she said, leaning closer to Tanner and Kayla. “Do you guys mind if a friend stops by?”

Tanner raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smile. “Is it Glen?”

Gabby couldn’t help but grin. She nodded. “Yeah, he just landed and wants to see me.”

Kayla let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, tell him to hurry up.”

Gabby laughed and unmuted the call, her heart already racing at the thought of seeing Glen again. 

“Sorry about that,” she said into the phone. “So, Tanner and Kayla are cool with it. I’ll send you the address.”

Glen’s voice was warm, and he smiled as he replied, “Of course, I’ll be there soon.”

Gabby sent the address to him, her excitement building. 

“On my way,” Glen said, before hanging up.

Gabby pocketed her phone, a happy smile on her lips. “He’ll be here soon,” she told Tanner and Kayla.

Kayla winked. “We knew it was only a matter of time.” Tanner chuckled and raised his glass.

Gabby rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at her lips. She felt her pulse quicken with anticipation, eager to spend time with Glen after a week of separation. As she settled back into her seat, she couldn’t help but feel like everything was aligning just the way it should.

Glen pushed open the door to The Backdoor Lounge, the familiar low hum of chatter and clinking glasses washing over him. It didn’t take long for his eyes to scan the room, easily picking out Tanner and Kayla near the back booth. He gave them a nod as he walked toward them, but his gaze immediately shifted when he realized Gabby wasn’t with them.

Tanner, catching his confusion, shot him a knowing grin and nodded toward the bar where Gabby stood. She was waiting for the bartender to notice her, tapping her fingers lightly on the counter, looking perfectly at ease in her surroundings.

Glen smiled to himself, feeling a rush of affection. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Gabby didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The warmth in the voice was unmistakable. She smiled, her heart doing a little flip in her chest, and turned to face him.

The moment their eyes met, her face lit up in that way it always did when she saw him. It was as though all the time and distance between them vanished in an instant. She reached out without thinking, pulling him into a hug, one that was just the right balance of familiarity and affection—not too much to stand out, but enough to make her feel his presence.

Glen returned the hug immediately, enveloping her in his arms and pressing a brief, soft kiss to her cheek. The gesture was warm and intimate, but he pulled away just as quickly, not wanting to linger too long in case any fans had noticed him. His eyes softened as he met her gaze again.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice gentle but full of warmth.

“I’m good,” Gabby replied, her smile still lingering from the hug. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, feeling both giddy and grounded by the simplicity of the moment. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Same here,” Glen said, his eyes brightening. “I missed you.”

Gabby laughed softly, looking at him with a mix of fondness and teasing. “Missed me? You saw me less than a week ago.”

“I know,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it feels like longer. You’ve kind of got me hooked on these little moments.”

Gabby’s smile deepened, feeling her cheeks warm at the compliment. She turned back to the bartender, signaling for a drink. “Well, now that you’re here, I think I’ll have something stronger than water.”

Glen raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “I like the sound of that.”

They shared a knowing look before Glen leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “So, what are we drinking tonight?”

That sounds like a great continuation! Here's how you could transition the scene with Gabby and Glen heading over to join Tanner and Kayla:

After Gabby and Glen ordered their drinks, they made their way over to the table where Tanner and Kayla were waiting. Tanner looked up first, his face lighting up when he saw Glen approaching. He stood and extended a hand with a friendly grin.

“Good to see you, man,” Tanner said as they shook hands, the greeting firm and easy. But before Glen could pull away, Tanner pulled him in for a quick hug, slapping him on the back as they broke apart.

“Good to see you, too,” Glen said, smiling at the warmth of the greeting. 

Next, Glen turned to Kayla, who was sitting next to Tanner, her smile wide as she waved him over.

“You, too,” Glen said, leaning in for a quick hug with her.

Glen pulled back and took the empty seat next to Gabby at the table. Gabby made space for him as he slid onto the barstool, giving him a light smile as she took a sip of her drink. Glen could feel the warmth of her presence beside him, and it was a comfortable feeling. They fell into easy conversation as Tanner and Kayla caught him up on the latest gossip in their lives—nothing too heavy, just the little things that made life feel full.

Glen joined in, joking and laughing along, but as always, his attention kept returning to Gabby. When their eyes met for a brief second, he could see the quiet happiness in her expression. He couldn’t help but smile. Tonight felt right, and he was exactly where he wanted to be.

A couple of hours passed, and the lively chatter at the table began to settle. The bar was still buzzing with energy, but it was clear the night was winding down for their group. Tanner and Kayla glanced at each other, then stood up from their seats.

“Alright, we’re gonna head out,” Tanner announced, giving Gabby a friendly smile. “We’ll catch up later, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Gabby agreed, already standing up. “Thanks for a fun night, you guys.”

Kayla gave her a teasing grin. “Yeah, just don’t let him steal you away from us too often,” she added with a wink at Glen.

Glen chuckled. “I’ll try to share her,” he said, the easy camaraderie between them helping put Gabby at ease.

As Tanner and Kayla made their way toward the exit, Tanner turned to Gabby one last time. “Need a ride home, Gab?”

Gabby shook her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Nah, I walked. It’s only a few blocks,” she replied, already feeling the cool evening air starting to settle in as she grabbed her purse.

Before she could finish, Glen spoke up, his voice warm and casual. “I’ll walk her home.”

Gabby turned to him, surprised but pleased. “Are you sure? It’s not far at all.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Glen said with a smile, holding the door open for her. “I don’t mind. We can make it a little night walk.”

Gabby met his gaze and, without hesitation, nodded. “Alright. I’d like that.”

She smiled as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cool night air mixing with the warmth of the quiet buzz of the evening. It was just the two of them now, and the familiarity of being with Glen, the ease of it all, made Gabby feel a little lighter as they began walking down the street together.

As they walked side by side, the evening air cool against their skin, Gabby glanced over at Glen. “So, where’s your car?” she asked, a little curious.

Glen glanced at her, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I dropped it off at my place earlier when I went home to change. Decided to get an Uber here instead.” He paused, shrugging casually. “I figured I’d probably have more than one drink, so better safe than sorry.”

Gabby raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on her lips. “Smart.”

The two of them walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, before Gabby broke it again. “How was New York?” she asked, glancing at him. “You were there for press stuff, right?”

“Yeah, a lot of talk shows, some interviews, that kind of thing. It's a lot of repeating the same questions and answers over and over.” He let out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “But it's always nice when I get to meet the fans after the screenings. That’s the best part, really.”

Gabby smiled at the thought of him being appreciated for his work. “I can imagine. How did it go? The movie?”

“Good. Really good. It’s been crazy, but... well, you know how it is.” He shrugged lightly, but she could see the pride in his eyes. “It feels good to have it out there finally. People seem to be really enjoying it.”

Gabby nodded, genuinely happy for him. “You deserve it. You've worked so hard for all of this.”

“Thanks.” He looked over at her, his expression softening. “And how about you? How’s the whole getting settled in Los Angeles thing going?”

Gabby sighed, smiling a little sheepishly. “Well, I’m starting to feel like I’ve got the hang of it. I mean, I’m still figuring things out. Still have some boxes I haven’t unpacked.” She laughed lightly. “But I like it here. Feels like a place I can... breathe.”

Glen nodded in understanding. “I get that. It's a lot at first, but you'll find your rhythm. You already seem to be doing well.”

Gabby looked over at him, the genuine encouragement in his voice making her smile. “I’m trying. I’m lucky I have good friends here, and... well, you. It helps.”

Glen grinned, his eyes flickering with something warm as he glanced down at her. “I’m always happy to be part of the good things.”

As they walked, their conversation shifted effortlessly from one topic to the next. It felt easy, natural—just the two of them, walking together, getting to know each other better, even in the quiet moments.

Gabby unlocked the door and stepped aside, allowing Glen to follow her into the apartment. The familiar warmth of her space greeted her, but it felt different with him here. She kicked off her shoes by the door, her mind still lingering on their quiet walk as Glen closed the door behind him.

As soon as the lock clicked, Glen turned towards her, a smile tugging at his lips. His eyes softened with something that felt almost private, as though they were the only two people in the world right now.

“You’ve got no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he said softly, his voice low and sincere. He stepped towards her, his hands moving naturally to her waist. His touch was warm, a contrast to the cool air outside.

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as she looked up at him. “I missed you too,” she whispered, her words feeling more intimate than she expected.

Before she could say anything else, Glen leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. His lips brushed hers in a tender, slow kiss, his hands gently pulling her closer. It was simple, a soft and sweet moment that felt like the world had slowed down.

But as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, growing more urgent. Glen’s hands slid up her back, tugging her closer as if he couldn’t quite get close enough. His lips parted and, without thinking, Gabby responded, her own hands reaching up to touch his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath her fingertips.

His kiss deepened further, almost hungry now, as he pulled her in, pressing her body closer to his. 

Glen reluctantly pulled away from her lips, his breath coming in shallow, unsteady breaths. For a moment, his eyes locked on hers, his gaze searching, as if asking for permission without saying the words. But the longing he saw mirrored in her eyes gave him no reason to hold back.

His lips trailed down the side of her jaw, his mouth warm against her skin as he pressed soft kisses along her neck. The feeling of her so close, the absence of her touch for the past week, overwhelmed him in the best way. His hands slipped around her back, pulling her flush against him.

He didn’t want to be this eager, especially so early in their relationship. They hadn’t really discussed intimacy or what they were both comfortable with. He didn’t want to make her feel pressured. But the soft sigh that escaped her lips, the way her hands found their way to the back of his neck, kept him moving.

He pulled away from the kiss, his lips finding the curve of her neck, trailing lower as he kissed her skin gently. The heat between them was undeniable now, but Glen remained cautious, not wanting to cross any lines they hadn’t yet talked about. He pulled back slightly, giving her space, his forehead resting against hers.

Glen pulled back slightly, his breath ragged, but his eyes still filled with desire. “I don’t want to rush anything,” he whispered, his voice low and hesitant. “I just—”

Before he could finish his thought, Gabby reached up and pressed her lips to his, cutting off his words. The kiss was soft, but there was a sense of urgency in it, a silent understanding between them. She pulled back, her hands resting on his chest as she looked up at him with a quiet intensity in her eyes.

“I want this too,” she whispered, her voice thick with sincerity.

His smile was immediate, a sense of relief washing over him, followed by a rush of warmth. He couldn’t help but smile wider as he leaned in to kiss her again, the kiss this time more confident, more certain.

His arm wrapped around her back, pulling her close. With a swift movement, he lifted her into his arms, feeling her body relax against his, the weight of her trust making him feel stronger than ever. He paused, pulling away just enough to look at her, making sure she was okay.

Gabby’s gaze met his, her hands resting on his shoulders, a soft smile playing at her lips. “Bedroom?” she asked, her voice gentle but sure.

A small laugh escaped Glen, his heart beating just a little faster. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little breathless with anticipation.

He began to carry her toward the bedroom, taking careful steps, still holding her close. The connection between them was undeniable, and the energy in the air was electric. Gabby’s arms tightened around his neck, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe.

When they reached the doorway of her bedroom, he paused, looking down at her once more. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice sincere, wanting to make sure this was truly what she wanted.

Gabby nodded, her eyes shining with quiet certainty. “I’m sure.”

With that, Glen stepped into the room, closing the door behind them, as he gently set her down on the bed. The moment felt both tender and charged with the weight of what was to come and they both seemed to know that whatever happened next, they were in this together.

As the quiet intimacy of the moment enveloped them, Glen’s hands gently moved to the hem of Gabby’s shirt. His fingers brushed against her skin as he began to lift it, pausing midway to meet her eyes.

“You good?” he asked softly, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability.

Gabby nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”

He slid the fabric up and over her head, tossing it gently onto a nearby chair before letting his gaze travel over her. The way he looked at her wasn’t rushed or predatory; it was as though he was taking her in, appreciating her fully. His hands rested lightly on her waist, his thumbs brushing against her skin in soothing circles.

As he began to reach for the button of her jeans, Gabby let out a small, nervous laugh.

“What?” he asked, stopping immediately, his brows knitting with concern.

She shook her head, a playful smile creeping onto her lips. “You’re not real.”

Glen blinked, his expression softening into a bemused smile. “What do you mean?”

Gabby bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before explaining. “I’ve just… I’ve never had a guy check in this much. It’s like you actually care how I’m feeling or something.”

For a moment, Glen just looked at her, his smile widening into something warm and confident. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping into a smooth, teasing tone, “sounds like you haven’t been with a real man yet.”

Gabby let out a soft laugh, her cheeks flushing as her arms looped around his neck. “Oh, is that what you are?” she teased back, her voice matching his playful tone.

“Guess you’ll have to let me show you,” he murmured, brushing another kiss across her lips, this one slower and deeper. “Then you can tell me.”

As the kiss continued, Glen’s hands moved with deliberate care, helping her out of her jeans and easing her back onto the bed. Every motion was unhurried, his touch reverent, as though he wanted to make sure she felt nothing but safe and cherished in his hands.

“You’re gorgeous, baby,” he whispered against her skin, his voice tinged with awe as his lips trailed softly along her collarbone.

Gabby felt her breath hitch, her fingers threading into his hair as her heart pounded against her ribcage. She didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky, but in that moment, with Glen’s careful attention and steady presence, she felt like the most treasured person in the world.

Glen leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss as his hands moved to the hem of his own shirt. With a quick, fluid motion, he pulled it over his head, revealing the toned lines of his chest and shoulders. Gabby couldn’t help but let her gaze wander, taking in the sight of him.

Her breath hitched, and she felt her cheeks warm, but before she could say anything, Glen gave her a small, knowing smile. “What? You staring?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted, biting her lip to suppress a grin.

He chuckled softly, his confidence shining through without tipping into arrogance. “Good. I like it when you look at me like that.”

Still holding her gaze, he slid off the bed and reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it with ease. His movements were steady, unhurried, as if he wanted to savor the moment. The sound of the belt sliding free and the soft rustle of denim followed as he kicked off his jeans, leaving him in just a pair of fitted black boxer briefs.

Gabby swallowed hard, her eyes involuntarily drawn to him. “Not fair,” she said with a playful pout, trying to keep her composure despite the butterflies swirling in her stomach.

“Not fair?” Glen asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped closer, his hands resting on the edge of the bed.

“You’re… distracting,” she said with a shy laugh, gesturing toward him.

He smirked, leaning down so they were eye level. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re the most distracting person I’ve ever met.” His voice was low and teasing, but the sincerity in his eyes made her heart skip a beat.

Gabby felt her pulse quicken as Glen climbed back onto the bed, settling beside her. His hands slid gently along her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the earlier playfulness giving way to tenderness.

She nodded, her fingers brushing lightly over his shoulder. “More than okay.”

Glen smiled, brushing his lips across hers in another kiss, one that carried all the unspoken promises of what was to come.

Glen leaned down to kiss her again, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every moment. But just as things started to intensify, he hesitated, pulling back slightly. His hand smoothed along her side, and his gaze met hers with a flicker of concern.

“Gabby,” he started softly, his voice a little husky but steady, “I… don’t have anything with me. No condom or protection. I didn’t plan for this, and I don’t want to assume anything.”

She appreciated his honesty, and the gentle restraint in his words made her chest tighten in a good way. He sat back slightly, giving her space as his thumb brushed against her hip in a soothing motion.

“We can stop,” he said firmly, though the warmth in his eyes didn’t waver. “I mean it. I want this to be about you, not just… the moment.”

Gabby blinked up at him, her mind racing. She could see the sincerity in his expression, the way he was prioritizing her over everything else.

She swallowed and nodded, sitting up slightly against the pillows. “I’m clean,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “And… I have an IUD.”

His brows lifted slightly, surprised by her openness, but he stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“But,” she said after a pause, her gaze dropping to her hands resting on his chest, “I’m not sure I’m ready for… that. Bare, I mean. Even if I know you’re clean.”

Glen exhaled softly and nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“I am clean, baby. But I get it,” he said without hesitation, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll never push you.” 

The tenderness in his voice made her heart ache in the best way. Gabby smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, slow and grateful. 

“Thank you for being so…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Patient? Responsible? Absolutely crazy about you?” he teased, his smirk returning, though it was softened by the warmth in his tone.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “All of the above.”

Glen chuckled, pulling her closer into his arms, their earlier urgency now replaced with a comforting intimacy. “I’ll always wait for you, Gabby,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re ready, you just tell me.”

Glen leaned back slightly, his hand still resting gently on her side, his thumb brushing against her skin in a comforting rhythm. He gave her a small smile, his eyes warm and full of understanding. “Let me grab us a blanket,” he murmured softly, leaning over to the edge of the bed.

He reached for the throw blanket folded at the foot and pulled it over them, cocooning them both in its warmth. Gabby shifted, curling up against him, her head resting on his shoulder as her arm draped across his chest. Glen adjusted slightly, lying on his back to give her room to nestle closer, his arm naturally wrapping around her and pulling her against him.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breaths and the faint hum of the city beyond her window. Glen’s fingers started tracing slow, soothing patterns along her arm, the gesture grounding and intimate without feeling heavy.

“You okay?” he asked after a beat, his voice low and steady.

Gabby tilted her head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile curving her lips. “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “More than okay. Thank you, Glen.”

“For what?” he asked, his brows knitting slightly as his thumb continued its gentle path over her skin.

“For… this. For being patient, for listening, for making me feel safe,” she admitted. “It’s just… really nice.”

Glen’s hand paused briefly before he tilted his head down to press a tender kiss to the top of her hair. “You deserve to feel that way, Gabby. Always.”

She smiled against his chest, letting his words settle over her like the warmth of the blanket they shared. After a moment, she spoke again, her tone lighter this time. “So, tell me more about New York. What was the craziest thing that happened while you were there?”

Glen chuckled softly, the tension from earlier melting into a new rhythm between them. “Oh, that’s easy. The hotel had this wild mix-up, and I ended up getting someone else’s room service—twice. Apparently, someone on the floor above me had a thing for caviar and champagne at midnight. But what about your week?”

Gabby’s voice was soft and steady as she recounted a story about her first few days in Los Angeles. She started to recount her story of getting lost during a walk she had taken.

“And then I got lost on the way to this… uh… this coffee shop I wanted to try,” she murmured, her words slowing as her body relaxed further against Glen. “I ended up walking in circles for like… twenty minutes…” Her sentence trailed off, her voice growing faint as her head rested more heavily against his chest. 

Glen glanced down, his lips twitching into a gentle smile as he watched her fight the sleep creeping in. Her fingers, which had been lightly tracing absent shapes on his chest, had stilled completely.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” Glen asked softly, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Mm, no,” she protested weakly, her words slurred. Her eyelids fluttered open for a brief moment before closing again.

Glen chuckled, his hand brushing lightly over her arm. “Gabby, get some sleep.”

She shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent before tilting her head up just enough to murmur, “Are you gonna stay?”

The question caught him off guard for a split second, and he paused, considering her words. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked softly, his voice steady and warm.

She nodded sleepily, her forehead brushing against his collarbone. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Glen’s heart softened at the vulnerability in her answer, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. “Then I’ll stay,” he said quietly, his tone firm with reassurance.

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and she nestled closer to him, her body molding perfectly against his side.

“Sweet dreams, Gabby,” Glen urged softly, his hand resuming its slow, soothing path along her arm.

This time, she didn’t resist. Her breathing evened out within moments, and Glen stayed exactly where he was, holding her close and watching over her as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.

* * * *

Gabby stirred as the sound of a phone ringing cut through the quiet of the morning. Her mind was groggy, and it took her a moment to register that it wasn’t her phone. She blinked her eyes open, noticing the faint light filtering through the curtains and the cozy warmth against her back. Glen’s chest was pressed to her, his arm loosely draped over her waist, holding her close in their sleep.

Glen groaned behind her, his voice still husky with sleep. "Ugh... who’s calling this early?"

Gabby turned her head slightly to glance at him, her voice soft. "Maybe you should check?"

He let out a resigned sigh, his arm slipping away as he rolled onto his back and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Squinting at the screen, he groaned again, this time more dramatically.

Before Gabby could ask any questions, Glen slid his thumb across the screen to answer. 

“Hey, Mom,” he said, his voice laced with sleepy affection.

Gabby, suddenly aware of their intimate position, turned onto her back and pulled the blanket higher around her, a small smile playing on her lips as she listened to his side of the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m up,” Glen said, rubbing his hand over his face as he spoke. “What’s up?”

There was a pause, and Gabby noticed his lips twitch into a small smile. 

“No, just at a friend’s place,” he said vaguely, his gaze flickering toward her for a brief second before he looked away again, clearly trying to avoid letting anything slip. Another pause, and then he let out a quiet laugh. “No, nothing like that. I just needed a change of scenery.”

Gabby bit her lip, trying not to smile at his attempts to sidestep his mom’s curiosity.

“Listen, Mom, I’ll call you back later, okay?” Glen said after a moment, his tone affectionate but firm. “Yeah, I promise. Love you too.”

Glen ended the call and let his phone drop onto the pillow beside him. He tilted his head to look at Gabby, who was watching him with a bemused expression.

“Your mom sounds sweet,” she teased, propping herself up on her elbow.

“She is,” Glen said with a faint smile. “But sweet and nosy aren’t mutually exclusive when it comes to her.” He shifted onto his side again, propping his head on his hand as he looked at her. “Sorry for the wake-up call.”

“I don’t mind,” Gabby replied, her voice warm. “It was worth it to see you squirm a little.”

He chuckled, his expression softening as he looked at her. “Oh, you’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe just a little,” she admitted, her eyes sparkling.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. “What do you say I make us breakfast to make up for it?”

Gabby laughed as she sat up, wrapping the blanket around herself. “Alright, show me what you’ve got, Mr. Movie Star.”

Glen sat up and then got out of bed. He stood at the edge of the bed, pulling his jeans back on and fastening his belt. The soft fabric of the white undershirt he’d worn the night before stretched over his torso, clinging just enough to remind Gabby of how unfairly good he looked even in the simplest clothing.

“You’re staring,” Glen teased, catching her gaze as he straightened up.

“Am not,” Gabby shot back with a playful smirk, slipping out of bed herself. She grabbed a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of leggings from her closet, quickly pulling them on before turning to face him. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Glen chuckled, his voice warm as he motioned toward the door. “Come on. Let’s see what kind of breakfast magic I can whip up in your kitchen.”

“Magic, huh?” Gabby replied as she followed him out of the bedroom.

They made their way to the kitchen, the early morning light filtering through the windows and casting a soft glow on the small space. Gabby slid onto one of the stools at the island, tucking her legs beneath her as she watched Glen take in his surroundings. He stepped toward the fridge, opening it and scanning its contents with a thoughtful expression.

“Let’s see...” he murmured, rummaging around. “Eggs, butter... and not much else.”

“I don’t really do breakfast,” Gabby admitted, resting her chin in her palm.

“Clearly,” Glen said with a grin, moving to inspect the cupboards. “But you do have bread. Eggs and toast it is.”

“Fancy,” she teased.

“Hey, don’t underestimate the classics,” he shot back, grabbing the carton of eggs and a loaf of bread. He set them on the counter before opening another cupboard in search of a pan. Gabby watched him move around the kitchen, his ease and confidence making her smile.

“You look way too comfortable in my kitchen,” she remarked.

Glen glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What can I say? I’m a natural. Now, do you have a toaster, or am I going to have to MacGyver this?”

Gabby laughed, leaning forward to point to a cabinet. “Top shelf. And there’s a frying pan in the drawer under the stove.”

“Thanks,” Glen said, retrieving the toaster and pan.

She rolled her eyes, but her grin didn’t falter as she watched him plug in the toaster and set the bread aside. A comfortable silence fell between them as he cracked a couple of eggs into the pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen. His movements were fluid and precise, and Gabby found herself mesmerized by the simple act of him cooking.

“Do you cook often?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Whenever I have time,” Glen replied, glancing at her. “It’s nice to do something simple every now and then, you know? Plus, I enjoy getting to do it when I can.”

Gabby rested her chin in her hand again, a soft smile on her lips. For someone she’d only been seeing for a week officially and only known for a few weeks before that, Glen already felt like he belonged in her space, like he fit perfectly into the rhythm of her life. The thought was both comforting and a little terrifying, but she chose to focus on the comforting part for now.

When the toast popped up, Glen plated it alongside the eggs and set the dish in front of her with a mock bow. “Your breakfast, m’lady.”

“Why, thank you,” Gabby said with exaggerated politeness, taking a bite. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Okay, I’ll admit it—this is actually really good.”

“I told you I’m a natural,” Glen said, leaning against the counter with a smug grin.

Glen slid onto the stool next to Gabby, his plate in hand, and set it down on the island. Their elbows brushed as he settled in, but neither of them moved away. Gabby couldn’t help but smile as they started eating, the warmth of the morning and his presence making her feel unusually light.

“So,” she said between bites, “do you always cook breakfast for women you’ve only dated for a week?”

Glen smirked, taking a bite of his toast. “Only the ones who let me spend the night.”

Their laughter filled the small kitchen, the kind that came effortlessly when two people were completely at ease with each other. Glen glanced at her, his smile softening as he leaned back slightly on his stool.

“This is nice,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter. “I don’t remember the last time I just sat and had breakfast with someone like this.”

Gabby tilted her head, curious. “What do you mean?”

“My life lately has been go, go, go,” he explained, gesturing vaguely with his fork. “Mornings are usually rushed, grabbing a bagel and coffee and eating it in the car on the way to the first appearance of the day. There hasn’t been a lot of time for, you know, this. Just sitting, talking.”

Gabby nodded, taking another bite of her eggs. “I get that. Life in L.A. can be the same way. Everyone’s always in a rush to get somewhere or do something. But growing up, my family made a point of sitting down for meals together. Breakfast, lunch, dinner—you name it.”

“That sounds nice,” Glen said, his tone thoughtful.

She looked at him curiously. “What’s your family like?”

Glen smiled, a mix of fondness and amusement crossing his face. “Chaotic, mostly. I have two sisters, so our house was always loud. Someone was always yelling, singing, that kind of thing. My mom used to say we were the reasons she started getting gray hair so young.”

Gabby laughed, picturing a younger Glen in the middle of the chaos. “I can see that. So, you’re the youngest? The baby of the family?”

Glen shook his head. “Middle child. Lauren is older than me, and then Leslies younger than me.”

“Ah, the only boy and the middle child. So you’re the forgotten child.” Gabby smirked.

“Nope,” Glen said, popping the “p” as he grinned. “Hard to get forgotten when you’re the favorite.”

“Oh, you were the favorite, huh?” Gabby teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Glen said with mock seriousness. “Just don’t tell my sisters I said that. They’d never let me hear the end of it.”

Gabby shook her head, laughing softly. “You sound like you had a fun childhood.”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. “My mom’s the heart of the family, though. She kept us all together, even when my dad was busy with work. She’s the kind of mom who would pack our lunches with little notes in them, even when we were in high school.”

Gabby’s smile softened. “She sounds wonderful.”

“She is,” Glen said, his expression warm. “What about your family? You said you guys always ate meals together. Were you close?”

Gabby smiled softly as she set her fork down, leaning back slightly against the stool. “Growing up as an only child was... quiet, I guess,” she said. “It was just me, my mom, and my dad. They always made time for me, though. Family dinners, movie nights, board games—I think they wanted to make sure I didn’t feel lonely, since I didn’t have siblings.”

Glen nodded as he finished a bite of his toast. “Sounds like they were great parents.”

“They were,” Gabby said, her smile widening at the memory. “My mom was the kind of person who could light up a room just by walking into it. She was funny, warm, and always had this way of making people feel seen, you know? And my dad... he’s quieter, more reserved, but he’s the most dependable person I know. He’d move mountains for the people he loves.”

Glen listened intently, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke. There was a light in her expression, a glow when she talked about her family.

“It sounds like they raised you right,” Glen said, his voice gentle.

Gabby chuckled softly. “I like to think so. I mean, they had their moments. My mom could be overprotective, and my dad... well, he’d let me get away with things if I batted my eyelashes at him just right. But they balanced each other out.” Her words hung in the air for a moment, and without thinking, she added, “Now it’s just me and my dad.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Gabby froze. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened slightly as if she could somehow pull the words back. She hadn’t meant to say that—not to Glen, not to anyone. Talking about her mom wasn’t something she did often, not because she didn’t think about her but because it was too painful to relive.

Glen caught the brief flicker of hesitation in her expression. He set his fork down and leaned slightly closer, his tone soft but careful. “Gabby?”

Her gaze dropped to the plate in front of her, and she swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to say it out loud, to explain something so deeply personal. But when she glanced at Glen, his expression wasn’t prying or demanding. He was just... there. Gentle.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” Glen added quickly, sensing her hesitation. “I get it. No pressure.”

Gabby took a deep breath, her fingers playing with the edge of her napkin. “No, it’s okay,” she said quietly, though her voice trembled slightly. “It’s just... I don’t usually talk about her. About what happened.”

Glen didn’t say anything, just gave her the space she needed. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against her knee. The small touch was grounding, reassuring.

“She died when I was nineteen,” Gabby began, her voice just above a whisper. “She was on her way home from work. It was late, and... and a drunk driver ran a red light. He hit her car and killed her instantly.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Gabby could feel the tightness in her chest as the memories surfaced. She blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry.

Glen’s hand moved to her back, his palm warm and steady as he rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades. 

“Gabby, I’m so sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with genuine empathy.

“It was so sudden,” Gabby continued, her gaze distant now. “One minute, she was there, and the next... she wasn’t. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. Glen’s hand never stopped its soothing motion on her back, his presence grounding her in the moment.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been,” Glen said after a moment. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Gabby glanced at him, her lips trembling as she tried to muster a small smile. “It’s been years, but some days it still feels fresh, like it just happened. My dad and I... we’ve learned to manage, but there’s always this... hole, you know?”

Glen nodded, his hand slipping from her back to cover hers on the counter. “Yeah. A loss like that doesn’t just go away. But it sounds like you and your dad have each other, and that’s something.”

She nodded, her fingers tightening slightly under his. “We do. He’s been amazing, honestly. I don’t know how he held it together for me when I know he was hurting just as much.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a pretty incredible dad,” Glen said, offering her a soft smile.

“I do,” Gabby agreed, her voice steadier now. “I’m lucky to have him.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. If anything, it felt safe—like Gabby had shared something she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying for too long, and Glen had handled it with the kind of care she hadn’t expected.

Glen squeezed her hand gently. “Thanks for telling me,” he said softly.

Gabby looked at him, her eyes meeting his. “Thanks for listening.”

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “Anytime.”

Gabby felt a small warmth spread through her chest, the heaviness from earlier lifting slightly. It wasn’t often she opened up about her mom, but somehow, with Glen, it felt... okay.

Gabby took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing as she sat back in her stool. Glen’s hand lingered on hers for a moment longer before he pulled back, reaching for his fork again. The quiet between them wasn’t awkward—it was comforting, the kind of silence that didn’t demand to be filled.

She glanced at him as he took another bite of his eggs, his easy smile still in place, and felt a wave of gratitude. Somehow, Glen had a way of making her feel safe, like there was no judgment, no rush. Just understanding.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said softly, picking up her own fork to finish the last few bites on her plate.

“Thanks for letting me raid your kitchen,” Glen replied with a grin, glancing over at her. “Not bad for throwing together what you had, huh?”

“Not bad at all,” she said with a small smile, her tone teasing. “I might have to keep you around if it means I don’t have to cook.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head. “Careful, Gabby. You keep complimenting me like that, and I might start getting a big head.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but the warmth in her expression lingered. “Oh, you think you don’t  already?”

The two of them laughed, and Gabby felt the heaviness of their earlier conversation continue to lift. By the time they’d finished eating, her plate was clean, and her mood had lightened.

Glen stood first, collecting their plates and carrying them to the sink. 

“Let me take care of this,” he said when she moved to follow.

“You don’t have to—”

“Sit,” he interrupted gently, turning to give her a look that brooked no argument. “You let me stay the night and provided the food. Let me do this part.”

Gabby sat back down with a small shake of her head, watching as he rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. The domesticity of the moment wasn’t lost on her, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

When Glen turned back around, wiping his hands on a towel, he caught the look on her face. “What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she said, shrugging lightly. “I just... It’s been a long time since I’ve had a morning like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just... easy,” she said, gesturing between them. “Good conversation, good company. It’s nice.”

Glen’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, leaning his hands on the counter across from her. “I’d say the same,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the quiet intimacy of the morning wrapping around them like a blanket. Gabby felt her cheeks warm slightly, but she didn’t look away.

Eventually, Glen straightened and checked the time on his phone. “Well,” he said, his tone light, “I should probably get going before your neighbors start wondering who the guy in last night’s jeans is.”

Gabby laughed, rolling her eyes. “Pretty sure my neighbors have better things to do than spy on me.”

“Still,” Glen said, grabbing his jacket from where he’d draped it over a chair, “I should head out. But...” He paused, glancing at her, his expression suddenly serious. “Thanks for letting me stay last night. For letting me... be here. I mean it.”

Gabby nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Thanks for staying.”

Glen hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but instead, he leaned down and pressed a quick, warm kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice soft.

And with that, he headed for the door, leaving Gabby standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face and a warmth in her chest that hadn’t been there before.

[thevioletcaptain]

🤠🎶🌬️

Thanks for the prompt, anon! I hope you enjoy, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to fill. You can also read here on Ao3 💚

Deus Ex Caschina

Dean/Cas | 2k words | Mature When Dean and Sam get into a bad situation on an impromptu hunt near the Cuevas Ranch in New Mexico, Dean calls on Cas for help.

There’s something whistling out in the desert; a shrill, two-note call that starts high and ends low and makes all the hairs on Dean’s forearms stand on end.

Even knowing that whistling back is the worst possible thing he could do, he feels the impulse ricocheting through his body. He tamps it down. Hard. Presses his lips together and waits for the compulsion to pass.

Beside him, Sam has gone stock-still, eyes sharp and jaw tense as he scans the dark for some sign of the — well. Whatever it is.

Why he thinks he’s going to be able to see a damn thing beyond the fire-lit edges of their camp is a mystery, but Dean doesn’t bother to mention it. More likely than not, he’s not even thinking that far. A lot of the time, Dean knows, it’s less about having any real hope of success and more about the need to feel as though you’re at least doing something. Anything at all.

Because really, when it comes down to the cold hard facts? They’re helpless out here.

Sitting ducks, waiting for whichever desert-dwelling monster has been picking off the local horses — and most recently, an extremely unfortunate veterinarian — to stop toying with them like a cat batting a mouse from one side of a room to the other.

They’d found the case entirely by accident. Had been passing through New Mexico on their way back to the bunker when Dean had heard a familiar voice while waiting for his order at the Watrous Coffee House. He’d glanced toward the door, scanning faces, and found Cesar Cuevas talking with an older guy in dusty flannel.

Within the hour, he and Sam had been sitting in the kitchen of Jesse and Cesar’s ranch house going over the scant clues the retired hunters had managed to pull together in the days since a local vet — a well-liked guy named Petey — had been found on the edge of the neighboring acreage with his insides on the outside.

It’s not a lot.

Like the three horses which had suffered similar fates in the week before Petey died, there wasn’t any sign of a fight. No scuff marks in the ground to suggest he’d been dragged there after.

The local cops determined pretty quickly that the remains were in line with those left behind by a mountain lion and closed the case.

"Because of the missing spinal columns," Cesar had explained, his nose crinkling up in disgust. "Cougars tend to go for that first, and Petey and the horses were all… well. You get the idea."

"So what makes you think they're wrong?" Sam asked.

"Besides the fact that they're cops?" Jesse had snarked back, and Dean snorted. "No bite or claw marks, no paw prints, no scat, for starters."

"And this," Cesar added, handing over a long chunk of glittering stone. It only took Dean a moment to realize why it seemed familiar.

"Fulgurite?" he'd asked, handing it off to his brother, and Jesse and Cesar had nodded. "Any lightning storms lately?

"Not in months. And we found these at every site."

"Any idea what it means?"

"No clue."

"And that's all you've got so far?" Sam had asked, and the pair had nodded.

"Yup," Jesse said. "That's all."

That was six days ago, now, and though they've found a little more evidence, they're still stumped. Hence the camp out. Dean wasn't keen on it — camping isn't his bag on a good day, let alone when there's something eviscerating everything it can get it's hands on in the area — but after days of dead ends, and two more dead horses, they're beyond the point of putting it off.

Staring out past the creosote and cactus that edge their campsite, and knowing full well that he'd have just as much luck with his eyes closed, Dean listens for some other sound that might tell him what they're dealing with. Where it is.

Nothing. Just the distant pop of a car backfiring, and the tiny blinking lights of a plane flying east to west overhead. He's ready to give up when the whistle comes again.

Hiiiiiiiigh-low.

Shrill and sharp. It seems to come from somewhere straight ahead, and Dean strains to see. Strains and strains until his eyes start to sting.

He needs to blink.

…why the fuck can't he blink?

He tries to tell Sam, but his jaw feels wired shut. His tongue heaves against nothing, unmoving in his mouth as if pressed flat by some invisible force. He can’t speak. Can’t move.

He has the brief, panicked thought that he might not be able to breathe, but it passes. His lungs expand. Deflate. Expand.

Whatever is doing this, it doesn't want him dead.

Yet, he thinks, and the panic sets back in, dialed to eleven. It doesn't want me dead yet.

Thanks to the way they're standing, he's only peripherally aware of the side of Sam’s face, but it seems that he is experiencing the same problem. Great. Awesome.

Another whistle. Dean's skin prickles head-to-toe. Itches, like he's brushed up against fiberglass. His vision blurs as his eyes water with the agony of it, of being so goddamn itchy that he can't think, but utterly incapable of doing anything about it.

Another whistle.

Closer, now, but this time it's behind them. A little to the right.

Suddenly, the fact that there was never any evidence of a struggle makes a lot more sense. It's not that the thing is fast, or even particularly sneaky. It’s just been doing this. Rendering its victims incapable of fighting, moving, making a sound.

If they were anyone else, they’d be screwed right now.

If they were anyone else.

Cas, he prays, grateful beyond words for the angel on his shoulder and his freshly-reinstated wings. We’re in a bit of a situation here, buddy.

Another whistle.

Closer, still.

Another.

Then;

SNAP.

A wet crunch and a sound like a hose unravelling.

Cas, I really fucking hope that's you, Dean prays again, trying not to let himself imagine that a spinal column might make that sound if it were being yanked out of a living creature.

A whistle. Distressed gurgling.

THUD.

Footsteps crunching closer, and—

"Dean," Cas strides into his view, concern etched into his brow, his face spattered with blood. The wet droplets reflect the crackling fire, making him glitter in a way that should not be hot, but somehow really is. "That creature was about to kill you. Why didn't you call me sooner?"

You said you wanted to spend the week with Jack, Dean prays. I didn't want to interrupt Heaven stuff.

Cas frowns. Reaches out to touch Dean's jaw. His body floods with warmth as Cas' grace works whatever paralytic agent he'd been afflicted with from his system, and though he's been able to breathe the entire time, he sucks in a breath. Relaxes his muscles that feel as though he's been tensing them for a solid hour.

Fuck, he's gonna need a massage tomorrow. He can already tell he's gonna be feeling it in about three hours.

"'Heaven stuff' can wait. And Jack is God. He has plenty to occupy himself when I'm on Earth."

"Yeah, I know. I just… I feel like I've been monopolizing your time since you got back, that's all."

"It's not monopolizing my time when you're the person I wish to spend my time with," Cas reminds him. "Besides, I thought we agreed that if I was taking time off from hunting, you would too? You were supposed to be driving straight back to the bunker. I would have stayed to make the drive with you if I'd known you'd be putting yourself in danger."

"We were driving back. But then we ran into Jesse and Cesar, and they told us about this thing that had been— look, it's a long story, okay? And hey, you saved the day. So, y'know. All's well that ends well."

Cas huffs and crosses his arms. Unfortunately for him, Dean thinks the display is more cute than it is imposing.

"I'd prefer you didn't need saving in the first place."

"Well, yeah, obviously," Dean tells him. He glances over his shoulder. "What was it, anyway? Thing had a killer freeze ray."

"I'm not entirely sure," Cas admits, and Dean steps forward, pulling his sleeve down over his hand and wiping the dark blood off of Cas' cheek.

"But you killed it," he says.

"I did. It was projecting its intentions rather strongly. It was going to eat your spine, and then most of your organs. I couldn't allow it to live."

"My hero," Dean tells him, then, a brainwave; "Deus ex Caschina."

He grins wide, and Cas rolls his eyes. Waves a hand to zap the rest of the blood away. Dean takes that as his cue to properly express his appreciation.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he says.

Try as he might, Cas can't keep the displeased frown on his face when Dean pushes into his space and kisses him. He does still manage to sound huffy when he says you're welcome, Dean, but the tilt of his mouth softens the bite.

"So, is Jack expecting you back upstairs tonight?" Dean asks, nipping lightly at his lip. "I'd kinda like to repay you for the assist. Get on my knees, say a prayer of thanks, maybe get my mouth on your—"

"Sam!" Cas blurts out, and Dean leans back, making a disgusted face, before he realizes what Cas is saying. Unwinding his arms from around Cas' shoulders, he turns to look at his brother as Cas makes his way over to him. He's still stock-still, eyes wide and pleading as he stares into the middle distance somewhere beyond Dean's shoulder.

"Oops," Dean grimaces. "Forgot we weren't alone."

"He started praying," Cas says by way of explanation, and boops Sam in the middle of his forehead. "My apologies for the delay, Sam. I was… momentarily distracted."

Stretching out his jaw, Sam shakes his long limbs as if to make sure they're all still functional.

"It's fine," he tells Cas, nice as pie, before turning a glare on Dean. "Maybe next time make sure everyone is alive and functional before you start macking on your boyfriend."

"We actually decided on 'partner'," Dean corrects him, mostly just to be annoying, and Sam narrows his eyes.

"Really?" he says flatly.

Dean knows he's just pissy about the whole left-in-a-frozen-state situation, but Cas — wonderful, badass, occasionally too literal for his own good Cas — moves back to stand at Dean's side, and Dean knows, immediately, that he's about to tell Sam why they settled on the term. He wishes he were filming the reaction, but there's no way he'd be able to get his phone unlocked in time.

"Yes," Cas says proudly. "Partners. Like cowboys, but married."

"You're not married," Sam says, incapable of well-actuallying no matter the circumstance, and— here comes the kicker, Dean thinks.

"We got married in 2013," Cas says. Matter of fact. Like Sam's forgotten something everyone knows. Sam's eyebrows rise high enough that they somehow seem to clear his forehead.

"What?"

"Admittedly, we weren't in a romantic or sexual relationship yet, and it was mostly to ensure that if I were to wind up in hospital as a human, Dean would be able to visit me without any difficulty. Though obviously now we can both acknowledge that we were very much in love with one another at the time."

"What?"

Dean whistles. High-low. It does the trick, snapping Sam out of his stupor, and after his snap-reaction of fear dissipates, Dean clears his throat. Points toward their campsite.

"Hey, uh… maybe we should pack all this up, head back to the ranch before it gets too late? I know the uh… the thing is gone, but the insects are not. So…"

"I can't believe you got married without telling me," Sam says.

"Oh my god, it was over a decade ago, get over it," Dean says.

Sam does not laugh.

"Dean."

Groaning, Dean throws his head back.

"Listen, when we do it for real, or like… renew our vows or whatever? You'll be the first to know."

"We can do that?" Cas asks.

"Yeah, I mean. People do it all the time. Why, d'you— do you want to?"

"I'd like to," Cas tells him.

"Okay. Let's do it. Maybe Cesar and Jesse will let us do it on the ranch."

"Are you two serious?" Sam asks.

"What?"

"Just like that, you're engaged now?"

"We're already married, Sam," Cas tells him, squinting. "Did you not understand what I said earlier?"

Rubbing the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, Sam pushes out a hard breath, and shakes his head, and seems to let it go.

"Congrats," he says finally.

"If you're wondering what to get us for a present," Dean says, pulling Cas alongside him toward the camp, "I hear waffle irons are always a good choice."

[written for this prompt game] [posted here on ao3 as imogenbynight 💚]

[lauriquasar]

Nobody as Weak as I Feel

pairing; Finn Wolfhard x singer!gn!reader

synopsis; the reader is a musician who is performing in front a large audience for the first time, but finn isn’t there to support them :(

authors note; every time I see a clip of Olivia Rodrigo and Louis Partridge I gain a year of life (Louis at Olivia's concerts inspired this fic thx yall) , also this feels so clunky i’m sorry if the chunks of text are difficult to read 😭

lowercase intended , not proof-read , 667 words , originally was an x character

Y/n threw off the hoodie they were wearing, before pulling out their phone to call their boyfriend, Finn. They were preforming for the first time, in front of an audience of at least 9,000 people which obviously had them on edge, and left without comfort.

Finn was supposed to be coming but, he was busy doing interviews and events for his new movie. And honestly he had plenty of time to get there after, but jumping back into the spotlight had him busy and out of time for personal affairs. Finn always came to y/n's concerts, but usually they were smaller, way smaller.

"You're coming over later though, right?"

Y/n asked through the phone to Finn.

Of course, make sure to get Millie or Caleb to send me a video, okay?

"I'll tell them,"

Y/n sighed.

I love you so much, I'm so sorry I can't make it

"It's fine. I'll be fine— as long as you come over later!"

Y/n felt a lump arise in their throat. Something about Finn seeming so close but being so far away, made y/n almost angry.

You know I will! And we can do whatever you want when I get there

"Thanks Finn, love you. Okay, I gotta go get ready, my designer is here, bye."

Bye, I love you, and I'm so proud of you

"Yeah, I love you too, and thanks."

Y/n hung up and held their head in their hands, until the kind designer offered their comfort— then got started on getting y/n ready.

After about 40 minutes of the stage being occupied with other artists preparing the crowd for y/n, it was finally their turn to perform.

Y/n walked onto the stage, hearing their heart bounding in their ears along with the multitude of applause— sure they were going to fuck something up somehow.

"Hello everyone, holy shit I'm so nervous,"

Y/n giggles into the mic, making everyone else in the audience laugh. They scanned the audience for anyone they knew, before finding Millie and Caleb in the middle of the venue— which gave them an ounce of peace.

"Should I tell you the song or, you know what you'll figure it out,"

Y/n stops themselves from speaking any further, worried about embarrassing themselves anymore than they already felt and started to play their most popular single. Once they heard the crowd singing along, they started to feel more at ease.

The concert had ended about an hour later, y/n went to go find Millie and Caleb, to thank them for coming and to ask if they got any good videos.

As y/n was leaving the venue, they were stopped by a multitude of people asking for pictures and acknowledgment. They took as many as they could before trying to run away, though they couldn't get far before they felt a hand slip into theirs.

They looked up to see who the hell had suddenly grabbed their hand, until they noticed a familiar head of dark hair and big brown eyes.

"you were great! the set list was so fucking good,"

Finn spoke into y/n's ear while y/n tried their hardest to engulf finn in the biggest hug they could while still walking to the exit.

"when the hell did you get here?"

y/n asked pure excitement shining through their words.

"i got here basically the second you started, although i saw a bit of TV Girl when i came,"

y/n smiled and continued to walk with finn holding their hand out of the venue, and finally getting to their car while finn showed y/n all the badass videos he took of them on stage.

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS I | LONDON CALLING

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T (language) 

word count: 4,772

summary: you arrive in richmond anxious about starting your new life, but quickly feel at home among this new cast of characters. one of them is of particular interest to you for some reason. 

A/N: thank you to everyone who read the prologue, sent messages, and left nice comments in the reblogs and tags!! would love to continue to hear your thoughts. 💕

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

The next two weeks are somehow the slowest and quickest two weeks of your life. You put your notice in at work the second you can. The coworkers you mingled with the most are sad to see you go, especially Kara. On your last day, she surprises you with flowers and candy, and you wish you’d spent more time with her. You make a mental note to reach out to her from time to time. 

Your landlord lets you leave most of the furniture behind since you won’t be needing it all at your new place. Rebecca promised the flat she had for you was both homey and chic. Despite being eager to get out of there, you feel a sense of loss as you say goodbye to your apartment before heading to the airport. Even though your relationship was far from perfect and ended tumultuously, you and Mason made some good memories there. You watched your first Richmond game there, even though you had no idea what was going on. And now here you are on an eight hour flight to London, getting ready to work for Richmond. 

You thankfully sleep most of the trip, having opted for a late night flight, so by the time you land, it's the afternoon in local time. You have no idea how you’ll manage to sleep at a reasonable time tonight, but that’s later-you’s problem. 

The butterflies that have taken up home in your stomach since you left finally take a break from aggressively fluttering around when you see Ted and Beard waiting for you outside. You break into a huge grin before jogging over to the duo. You instantly feel at home when Ted is engulfing you into one of his signature hugs, and you come to the realization you haven’t seen him since he started coaching over here. Same with Beard, and while the two of you wouldn’t normally go for a hug, you find yourself wrapping your arms around him briefly anyway, and you can tell he doesn’t mind at all. 

“How was your flight, Kiddo?” Ted asks as they lead you to a fancy black car parked nearby with an even fancier-dressed man. 

“It was good,” you respond distractedly, “I’m sorry, do you have a driver?” 

Ted smiles as he pulls out the back door for the two of you, Beard rounding the other side, loading your bags into the trunk. “Courtesy of Rebecca. She wanted to make sure you arrived in style.” 

In the back of the car, you fit snugly between the two coaches and you couldn’t be happier. 

“And don’t worry,” Ted continues, “We came over here as soon as training ended, so most of the team should be out for the day. And as far as everyone else knows, we’re just two generous colleagues who offered to pick up the newly-minted foreigner from the airport. No one will know we’re secretly two of your favorite people in the world.”

You chuckle, but you appreciate his words. Turning to glance at Beard, he mimics zipping his lips shut and you mirror him with a giggle. 

The car ride back is filled with loud chatter as the three of you- mostly you and Ted- catch up, while you try not to be alarmed by the fact you’re driving on the left side of the road. When you pull into the parking lot of Nelson Road Stadium, you feel the butterflies start to return. Here we go. 

The driver follows you, promising to wait in the lobby until you’re ready to head home for the night. Beard heads to the coach’s quarters while Ted introduces you to everyone you pass on the way to Rebecca’s office. You try not to seem overeager to meet her in person - which you are. You cautiously follow Ted into the room, overhearing the familiar sound of Rebecca’s voice mixing with someone else’s. When their attention is drawn to where you and Ted are standing, Rebecca enthusiastically stands from her couch to greet you and you’re instantly taken with her presence- she’s even more beautiful and tall in person. 

You go to shake her hand but she opts for a warm hug as she tells you how excited she is for you to join the team. She and Ted introduce you to Leslie Higgins, Richmond’s Director of Communications. He shakes your hand with a kind smile, but you can tell he’s surprised when he hears your American accent for the first time. The three of you don’t give him a chance to question it as Ted drags you back on your welcome tour. But not before Rebecca demands you text her later that night to tell her what you think of the flat she readied for you.

Ted takes you back downstairs to where the locker rooms and coaches offices are. To Ted’s earlier point, not many players are around but you can’t help but be intimidated by the few you meet briefly. You’ve never been around famous athletes before. You try to remember their names - Colin and Isaac are the two that have stuck so far. You smile at Beard’s familiar face when Ted takes you to their office, knocking on the window to grab another man’s attention. Ted informs you that the man is Roy Kent, a name you recognize from the handful of games you’ve watched over the years. He’s another coach for the team now. Roy grunts out a ‘nice to meet you’ without bothering to turn around, but Ted lets you know that's a pretty nice gesture when it comes to Roy, so you take it. 

As you leave the locker room, you meet the team’s kitman, Will, who immediately seems like the sweetest person in the world and you hope to get to know him better during your time here. 

Finally you make it to what Ted describes at the main event - the pitch - and he was right, it was glorious. You’ve never been in an arena of this size, and despite not being too big of a sports person, you feel excitement engulfing you. You’re only pulled out of your trance as Ted calls out to one lone straggler who seems to be getting in some last minute practice on the field. 

“Hey Jamie!” Ted yells across the field, “Practice ended over an hour ago bud! Grab a shower and go home and get some rest.”

Jamie jogs over to you two with the soccer ball under his arm, “Aye aye, Coach.” Out of breath, the not-unattractive footballer looks you up and down. “Who’s this?”

You introduce yourself and Jamie shakes your hand once before dropping it.

“She’s Rebecca’s new PA we told y’all about earlier this week. She’s going to be helping out with some social media posts and what not.” Ted reminds him and Jamie seems to nod in recognition.

“Guess I’ll be seeing ya around then.” he smiles politely and then heads back inside. 

You and Ted spend a few more minutes admiring the stadium but your interest shifts to Jamie. He looked familiar, but not from the football matches you’ve watched, you don’t think. But where else would you have seen him?

Eventually Ted leads you back inside, finally showing you where you’ll be spending most of your time. He explains that your office used to belong to the team’s PR person, Keeley Jones, before she left to start her own firm. He says the club is still one of her top clients, so you’d be working closely with her from time to time, and that he couldn’t wait for you to meet her, claiming you’d absolutely adore her. You believed him. So far you were taken with everyone you’ve met. Rebecca was incredible, Higgins seemed great, Colin and Isaac a fun pair, Will a sweetheart, and Roy an interesting man you looked forward to learning more about. Even Jamie - who you couldn’t get a read on just yet - still intrigued you. 

You plop down in the desk chair now belonging to you and can’t help but spin around a few times. Ted chuckles and tells you he’ll leave you to get comfortable for a bit while he finishes up some things for the night, promising not to be long before he comes back to take you home. 

Finally having a moment to yourself after almost 12 hours, you let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Distracted by the excitement of being in a new city, catching up with Beard and Ted, and meeting your new coworkers, you hadn’t had a chance to process that you did it. You uprooted your life and successfully made it halfway across the world to start a new one.

Before you let complete panic sink in, you open the laptop sitting neatly on your desk. There’s not much on the computer, but there’s a folder with information about AFC Richmond and the players. You decide maybe you should start learning everyone’s names since you’re going to be responsible for curating their social media presence and such soon. Looking at the team roster, your eyes immediately find Isaac and Colin’s pictures, feeling proud that you at least know a couple players' names. Same with Jamie, but then you scan the rest of the roster and realize there are a lot more names and faces you don’t recognize. Your mind scrambles to come up with some mnemonic device to help you remember everyone, but before you can come up with a comically long sentence, there’s a knock on your office door. 

Looking up, you expect to see Ted, but instead find a younger man with a bright smile. You feel a burst of recognition and glance down at the roster on your computer, matching the face of your visitor with one on the screen.

“Oh, hi! Are you…Sam Obi…”

His smile doesn’t falter as he steps into your office. “Sam Obisanya,” he pronounces smoothly, and then says your name just as eloquently. “I just saw Ted, and he told me you’d just arrived and I wanted to take the chance to say hello and welcome to the team.”

Warmth spreads across your chest as you smile back at him, “That’s so kind, thank you.”

“Of course! I know you haven’t been here for long, but how are you liking things so far?”

“Oh it's been good,” you trail off, finding yourself unable to lie to his sweet face, “A bit intimidating.” 

He frowns, “Why’s that? If Jan Maas said something strange to you, he’s just blunt because he’s Dutch.”

You chuckle, briefly glancing back down at the roster to put a face to that name. “Noted. But no, I think I’m just realizing how much I don’t know about soccer, or football, I guess. And that there are a lot of you to remember.”

Sam laughs, “We are a large team. Anything I could do to help?”

Part of you wants to be nice and tell him he doesn’t have to stick around any longer, but the anxious part of you grabs onto the life line, “Actually, yes, could you help me get to know all the players’ names- like, tell me things about everyone so it's easier for me to remember?” You lean back and tilt your computer towards him so he knows he’s welcome to stay, and he immediately gets settled in one of the chairs on the other side of your desk. 

You spend the next thirty minutes getting to know Sam as well as the rest of the team, and you already feel more at ease. Sam proves to be even more wonderful than his first impression gave off. He shares hilarious anecdotes about every footballer on the team, and before you know it you’re able to recall who people like Dani and Zoreuaux and Bumbercatch all were. 

Sam and you also exchange some personal stories. You tell him about your life in Chicago and how you were looking for a fresh start, albeit leaving out a few details you don’t want to burden him with on the first meeting. Sam shares that he'd moved to England a few years ago from Nigeria, and that he was going to open a Nigerian restaurant here soon for a little taste of home. You told him you couldn’t wait to try it. By the end of your conversation, you feel like you have someone you can call a friend in Richmond, and Sam even offers to show you around the city during some off time later this week. 

As Sam gives you one last quiz about AFC Richmond’s player’s and your eyes linger on Jamie’s picture again, your brain finally remembers how you know him. You flashback to a memory of Kara practically giving a full PowerPoint presentation to your office back home on the drama going down on her favorite British reality show. 

“Oh, my God,” you yelp, scaring the hell out of your potential new friend who rests his hand over his chest, “Sorry, I just realized how I know Jamie.” 

“You’ve met him before?” Sam questions, surprised. 

“No, I’ve just seen him on that one show, Lust something…”

Before you have the words out, Sam is cackling, “Yes, Lust Conquers All! Not Jamie’s finest moment but definitely a memorable one.” 

“God, he was such an asshole,” you comment, recalling the way he acted in the few clips Kara showed you. 

“Oh, he was,” Sam nods, “He used to be a total prick. He still is sometimes, but more in a loveable way.” At your unsure expression, Sam elaborates, “Jamie’s been through a lot. And yes, he used to be very self centered. But since Ted’s been around, he’s become a better teammate, and a better friend.”

You can’t help but smile at the nod to Ted’s impact. It doesn’t surprise you in the least; he’s always bettered the lives of the people he’s met. Still, your heart swells with pride. 

“Well, either way, I look forward to seeing what he’s like off the screen.”

Sam heads out a little after that, with another promise of being your tour guide this weekend and another to have lunch tomorrow. Then Ted’s coming back to collect you to take you home for the night. You bid a farewell to Rebecca in the parking lot before you’re driving off. After making sure you can get into your apartment building, you say goodnight to Ted, who promises to walk with you back to the stadium for your first official day tomorrow. 

When you enter your new flat, you’re taken back by how much you love it already. The furniture is feminine but not overly posh. The décor and colors are bright without being over the top. It feels more like you than your old apartment, even though you picked out that place and the furniture yourself. You quickly remind yourself of Mason inserting his opinions over yours when it came to those choices, before you push all thoughts of him away for the night. 

You spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes and other small belongings. You’re pleasantly surprised that you're eager to sleep as it gets close to an appropriate time for bed. You quickly change into the first set of comfy clothes you find and climb into your very large and very comfortable bed. You text Rebecca to express how much you adore the flat and how grateful you are for everything. She responds pretty quickly, telling you that you never have to thank her but she’s glad you’re settling in. 

You bury yourself under your covers, trying to coax your thoughts away for a good night’s sleep. But your mind runs rampant with thoughts of working with Rebecca tomorrow and hanging out with Sam. A new country, new job, and (hopefully) new friends. It’s only been one day but you were already feeling reassured about your decision to move here. Which is good because you only bought a one way ticket. 

Your first few weeks with AFC Richmond could not have been more of a dream. You didn’t expect to enjoy working for a football club as much as you do. Where your old job was drab and had you focused on making boring food and clothes sound appealing, with this job you got to spend time with the players who were actually interesting people you got to promote. On most days, you got to hang out with the team and film content while they practiced or played. Sometimes events occurred after training or games so that’s when you’d gotten to know a lot of them. You were closest with Sam, who you’d begun to spend more time with when neither of you were working. On other days, you’d work more closely with Rebecca, assisting her with more mundane tasks, but still more enjoyable than any of the grunt work you did back in America. And Rebecca had quickly become one of your favorite people to be around. You didn’t think you’d meet a more remarkable woman until a week in when she introduced you to Keeley, who you’d already heard so much about. No surprise she lived up to the hype. 

Keeley is the friendliest and most talkative person you ever met, and you hope her and Rebecca’s energy rubs off on you even just a little. The pair of them quickly included you in their girl talks and invited you to sit with them during games when you’re not busy capturing content. They also quickly caught you up on the gossip around the club, first and foremost that Keeley is still getting over a breakup with Roy, and apparently she doesn’t quite understand why they had parted ways. While she seems to be mostly handling it alright- meaning not taking a job an ocean away from home to run away from him- it gives the two of you something to bond over.

When you have time to yourself, you try to sit down and write. Sometimes you’re able to get a few sentences typed out in a Word document, before you’re furiously smashing the back-space button because you hate every word. One day, you share your writer’s block struggle with Trent Crimm, a former journalist who Ted is letting shadow the club for a novel he’s writing. Roy and the team had been pretty bothered at first, but everyone is on better terms these days. Despite your respective preferences for non-fiction and fiction, Trent gives you the advice to not force anything. You’ll write when you’re ready. And while you appreciate and try to take the advice, you wish you were ready now. With a job that doesn’t make you want to rip your hair out and a beautiful city you’ve been exploring, you should be more inspired than ever. But so far no such inspiration has struck. So you try to be patient. 

Instead you focus your energy on helping Keeley with the new Bantr campaign she has AFC Richmond collaborating on. Most of the team is staying past practice to get new promotional pictures shot and in a few weeks you’ll be helping Keeley shoot video footage for the ads. You couldn’t help but feel excited to be on this side of the advertising world, and actually be a part of the team that's being advertised.  

You're squatting on the ground, off to the side so you’re not blocking any shots. Your phone is unlocked and ready to capture some BTS of the photoshoot as Isaac is the first team member to get his picture taken. As you're about to press record when the photographer begins to shoot, you can’t help but giggle at how serious Isaac is taking this. He stands stick straight with his hands clasped behind his back and lips in a straight line. 

“Something funny, new girl?” he asks without breaking eye contact with the camera. He’s been calling you that since you arrived despite now having been around for a month. You think he means it affectionately, though he probably wouldn’t admit it. 

“No, it's just you look so…stern?” you chuckle as you start recording a clip, “If this is for a dating app, shouldn’t you try to look more appealing to any potential suitors?”

“I thought they were blurring our faces?” he asks with furrowed brows, referring to the fact that the app was anonymous and this ad campaign would be following suit.

“Yeah, but don’t you want to be a sexy blur?” 

This makes Isaac crack a smile as he lets out a surprised laugh. You snap your fingers at the photographer, “There, get that!” 

Satisfied with your first piece of content for the night, you stand up and join Keeley where she’s observing everything from behind the monitor displaying the photos as the photographer takes them. 

Keeley smiles at you, “That was pretty good! They could all stand to loosen up a bit - they’re not taking mugshots.”

“That’s literally what all of their football headshots look like,” you joke, “Is there no smiling in football?” You laugh together as another idea strikes, “Hey, what if we play some music? That might relax everyone and loosen them up?”

Keeley’s light up. “That’s a great idea,” she turns to face the other players waiting for their turn, “Oi, does anyone have a speaker?”

Colin raises his hand, “I’ve got one in my locker.”

Moments later, the locker room is filled with upbeat music from a playlist Keeley curated on the fly. The team’s energy instantly escalates, and so do the pictures of them. As Dani takes over Isaac’s spot in front of the camera, you hear someone whispering your name from outside the locker room. You find Sam waving to you from the doorway. You smile and jog over to meet him.

“Looks like a party in here,” he comments amusedly. 

“Yeah, why aren’t you participating by the way? Got a secret girlfriend you’re not telling me about?” 

Sam flushes, “Not quite. I just don’t want to appear too…available.” 

You quirk your eyebrow, “Suspicious but I’ll allow it. So what's up?”

“I wanted to know if you were free Friday night? We end practice early that day and I was wondering if I could take you to that museum I told you about if you still haven’t been?”

“No, that sounds perfect, I would love that!” 

You share excited smiles. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

“Bright and early.”

As you bid good night to Sam and return your focus back to the shoot, you note that Jamie is getting his photo taken now. You accidentally catch his gaze and successfully fight the urge to break eye contact. You offer a smile as you go to get more footage for Richmond’s Instagram, but Jamie returns the smile seemingly half heartedly. You try not to take it personally since you haven’t really had the chance to get to know the guy since you’ve been here. You wonder why that is. While you weren’t very close with many members of the team, aside from Sam, most of them have taken opportunities to get to know you a bit. Except for Jamie.

You try not to dwell, knowing enough about his reputation to know not being close might not be a bad thing. 

The rest of the photoshoot goes extremely well. The Instagram stories you post of the guys are already gaining a lot of attention, and the photos look incredible. You ask Keeley to see if you can get Bantr to let the club use the photos as some of their new imagery online, knowing it would be a shame to just blur them and not have the world see the player’s personalities. As the team files out for the night, you stick around to help Keeley and the photographer pack up, wishing them a good night as you need a few things from your office before you head home. You think you’re the last one there until you hear a voice coming from the parking lot as you exit. Once you’re outside, you recognize the voice as Jamie’s with his distinct Mancunian accent. He appears to be on the phone but you can't make out anything he’s saying on the other side of the parking lot. Even from afar, you get the sense that it's not a pleasant conversation, so you linger by the door to give him some space. Luckily, Jamie’s hanging up with whoever it is a few seconds later, giving you the chance to resume your journey home. You try not to startle him as you get closer but you do anyway. You immediately apologize, letting him know you’re just passing by and you didn’t mean to sneak up on him.

“It's alright,” he assures, though he still seems a bit off, “Didn’t know anyone else was still here.”

“Just me,” you shrug. You know you shouldn’t say anything and just continue walking home, but you have to ask. “Is everything okay? I swear I wasn’t eavesdropping, but that phone call sounded tense and you look…unwell?”

Jamie eyes you like he’s trying to figure out what your angle is. You hurry to reassure him.

“I know we hardly know each other, so in no way do you owe me an explanation, but just figured I’d check in.” 

Jamie nods slowly. For a second you think he might share something with you, but instead he just lets out a quiet sigh, his shoulders sinking, “Nothing you need to worry about.”

You accept his answer and nod. You’re unsure of what to say next, or if you should say anything. You’re about to turn around and wish him a good night when he’s the one that speaks up. 

“So you and Sam seem quite close.” 

You turn back to him and narrow your eyes at him, “Yeah? He’s been showing me around the city.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, “Are you two…,” your eyes narrow in a full squint as you cross your arms to egg him on, “Seeing each other?”

You can’t help but laugh. In no way were you expecting him to ask that. “Why do you care? Do you have a crush on Sam or something?”

Jamie’s face scrunches up, “No!”

“What then? You gonna tell me Sam’s nice-boy persona is actually an act and he’s secretly been plotting to murder me?”

“No, Sam really is that nice.” 

“Then why are you asking if I’m dating him?” 

“I’m just curious,” he spits out defensively, “Wasn’t sure if it was alright for players to hook up with the club’s employees or whatever.”

“Oh,” you lower your defenses for a second, “...So you have a crush on Beard then?”

Jamie’s defensive resolve melts away as he actually lets out a laugh at your teasing. “No he aint my type. Beard’s too scratchy.” 

You laugh along with him and enjoy that he played along. 

“Well then to answer your question, no Sam and I are not dating, we’re just friends. And no, I don’t think there’s technically any rule against any consensual mingling between the staff and you footballers.

“Hmm,” Jamie nods, his lip pouting a bit, “Good to know.”

“I’m glad to be of help, but I should get going,” you start walking backwards towards the parking lot’s exit, “But I’ll see you tomorrow I guess?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jamie steps towards you, “You’re just going to walk home alone? At night?” Jamie glances around and answers his own question when he doesn’t see another car in the lot besides his own. “Can I drive you?”

You shake your head assuredly, “Don’t worry about it. I walk home everyday. My place isn’t far.”

You can tell he wants to respect your answer, but asks one more time, “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you smile, “Have a good night, Jamie.” 

He gives you a small smile back, “You too.” 

You wave before shoving your hands in your coat pockets and take off down the road. When Jamie’s sports car drives past you, he honks the horn twice and you chuckle. 

During your short commute to your flat, you replay your interaction with Jamie. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to be like. While your conversation was brief, it seemed like he was a decent guy and that he had a sense of humor. The way his hair fell messily on either side of his face was nice, but that was neither here nor there. Maybe Sam was right. Jamie Tartt wasn’t so bad. 

A/N: mwahahahaha

[laiiaaa]

WHEN RAFE IS NERVOUS TO MEET YOUR PARENTS

“Baby, I’m scared.” Rafe looks down at his outfit for what must be the twentieth time tonight. He’s sure he’s more nervous than he’s ever been—what with the fact he’s literally going to meet your parents in T-minus five minutes—and if his lip could talk it’d scream at him for biting at it for an hour now. 

“You said that already.” 

“I know.”

“Quite a few times now, if I remember correctly—”

“I know, baby, I know—” He cuts himself off with the heels of his hands pressing to his brow bone, a subtle wash of comfort blanketing his nerves when he feels your touch brushing up his forearms to grab his wrists.

“Rafe, come on.” You tug at his arms to reveal his face: brows furrowed, eyes petrified. “They’re going to love you, okay?”

If he feels relief at your words (he doesn’t), his face doesn’t show it. “But what if they don’t?”

You let his arms go, and, as if there were some electromagnetic field drawing then there (he’d tell you there absolutely is), his hands smooth over your waist, one moving to rest at the small of your back. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“How do you know?” Even with you beneath his hands—perhaps the most familiar ticket item to him now, your soft curves and supple skin known to him like the back of his hand—he can’t stifle the rough and ragged beat of his heart. 

“I know,” you start, draping your arms around his neck and shoulders, “because I love you.” You step into your tip toes and gently pull him closer to press a kiss to his lips. He tastes like the swig of whiskey he took just before stepping out of the car, and smells like it too when you pull away and murmur against his lips, “And you know that already.”

“I do,” he agrees. Peering down at you now, he swears he could stand out here forever, feet away from ringing your parents’ doorbell while the sun sets behind you, doing nothing other than soaking in the smell of your perfume and the feel of your lipstick transferred onto his skin and the thrum in his heart left over by your praises. But of course, that anxiety looms strong: “You said they’re tough customers, though.”

You roll your eyes, yet a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips. Worrisome little boy. “That was last week. And honestly, love, I’m as tough as they come. You’ve already made it this far.”

This gets a laugh out of him, genuine this time, for it brings up old memories of you two in English composition freshman year: he made a lousy attempt at getting your number on the first day, to which you insisted he entertain you first. You hadn’t expected this to mean finding you in the library and whisking you away to a speakeasy, which, in time, became your ‘place’ so to speak. (You hadn’t expected the bartender to try setting you up with him either, but years later it makes for an awfully entertaining story—consider it a mission accomplished on his part.)

You cup his cheek in your hand before kissing him again, longer this time, for he keeps you there, pressed against his chest and smiling against his anxious mouth. “We can’t just keep kissing out here, you know.”

He pulls you in tighter, arms curling to fit snug against your waist. “I’m sure we can.”

“We’ve got to at least say hello and have dinner. They’re expecting us.”

A kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your temple. One more to your lips—slower, calculated even—a nip at your bottom lip before he says, “Then they can stay expecting.”

And for a minute, he catches you in his web. You indulge in his idea, teasing your fingers at the nape of his neck, humming into his mouth when his hand slithers up your spine as he dips down, forming a pretty arch in your back he wishes he could see for himself. Your mind loses track of what you’re in front of, filled with little more than the feeling of his mouth, his hands, his love and affection flooding at your fingertips—that is, until you take a step backward and nearly trip over your bag at your feet.

Finally, you give him one last real kiss. “Nuh-uh,” you hum, pulling away to plant dismissive kisses to his jaw while leaning just far enough to land a fingertip on the doorbell before a muffled ding-dong rings through your parents’ foyer. You look at Rafe, who stares back at you with his eyes wide in disbelief.

“You did not—”

You cover his face (which now has lipstick stains of varying saturation, you now realize with a pesky giggle) with your hand. “It had to happen sooner or later, you avoidant brat.” Stooping down in half a second, you pick up your bag and give Rafe a pleading look. “Hold this, please?”

His eyes flit from your bag, to your pout, to your bag now inches closer, back to your stupidly beautiful face. His expression softens, and he sighs while wordlessly taking your belongings.

You reward him—and yourself, somewhat—with another kiss to his cheek. “They’re going to love you,” you whisper for the last time.

He tries to believe you with all his might—trust, he does—even with blood rushing to his face and a million thoughts brimming at his fingertips and a terrible case of jitters that hasn’t left since last night. So forgive him for thinking little else other than Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, or Fuck, fuck, fuck, when your mom greets you and him with a hug. Forgive him for nearly dropping your bag when he goes to shake your father’s hand (he’s trying, okay?). Forgive him most of all for forgetting to speak until you remind him (Rafe, you snip under your breath, pinching his wrist again).

Because truly, his nervous mishaps don’t matter—at least, not to your parents. They see the way he sticks by your side, whether with his full body hovering near yours or with his free hand mere millimeters from your back. They catch those hopeful and reassuring glances he exchanges with you, as if he’s looking at you to say, Wow, we’re really doing this. They don’t miss and won’t forget when he hangs up your coat for you and offers to set the table, a gesture they know he knows, knowing you, is unnecessary. And maybe the most noticeable of all the little quirks of this first meeting are your lipstick stains on his lips, his cheeks, his jaw—perhaps because they’re so loud, but more so because they speak to them this: there’s nothing on this boy’s mind other than a dumbfounded, lovestruck awe of everything you are, and he doesn’t care to look like a fool to show it.