#until we meet again headers

[ourjisoo2]

熱 earth katsamonnat ( ator ) lockscreens !

ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ, ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍ

[babyara]

Win & Team (Between Us)

[khaoconha]

⊹ ׂ ִ ୭ samantha melania packs ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹

੭୧ ♡Take the risk. You'll thank yourself later ㅤ੭୧ 𝆹 🌸

[giannaln4]

Nursed By Love

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando got sick during the first race of the triple header and you made it your mission to take care of him.  (2.7k words)

warnings: stablished relationship, fluff, sick!lando, taking a shower together (not in a sexual way), use of Y/N

a/n: not gonna lie, this turned out shorter than i expected 😭 i wanted to write more and include the entire weekend but i literally couldn't come up with more, i’m sorry if it feels a little rushed but i hope you still like it!

check out the original request here! also, this is somewhat of a prequel to my fic Sick; it has a couple of references here and there but it can be read as a standalone.

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Lando woke up before you, something that was normal in your relationship given the strict agenda he had to follow almost on a daily basis. He checked his phone to see how much time left he had before having to get up, sighing when he realised his alarm would go off soon. 

He valued his sleep, like a lot, so he figured he wouldn't let those few minutes go to waste, so he pulled the covers again up to his neck, but he was feeling a little colder than usual, so he did what he usually does: he reached for you and pulled you into him, embracing you so lovingly.

This made you wake up, slowly opening your eyes to get used to the light. “Hey,” you whispered, not completely sure if he was awake.

"Sorry, baby,” he said with a sleepy voice as his nose nudged into the crook of your neck.

“It’s okay. What time is it?”

“Almost time to go, actually.”

“Okay, let’s get going then.” You said, pulling away from his embrace, making him whine as he quickly reached for your arm.

“No, let’s stay in bed a little longer,” he looked at you with his sweet eyes as he tried to convince you to go back to him.

“I don’t want us to be late again.”

“We won’t. We still have a few minutes, I promise.”

With that, you cuddled him again, this time facing him. After all, how could you possibly say no to him? “Okay, but as soon as the alarm goes off, we are getting up.”

"Yes, ma’am,” he replied happily as he buried his face on your neck again, enjoying the way you were scratching his scalp. 

Truth is, he was feeling more tired than usual. Sure, he always hated having to wake up early, but something about the way he was feeling that day wasn’t right. You felt it too; his skin against your neck was hotter than it normally was.

“You okay?”

He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “I think I’m getting sick.”

You pulled away again, the back of your hand falling on his forehead. “Baby, you have a fever.” He just hummed in response as he tried to get you to go back to your previous position. “Lando, I’m being serious. You can’t just ignore it.”

“It’s not like I can call in sick.” 

“I know, but you can’t go around all day without at least taking something. What else are you feeling?” You asked, worried eyes looking back at him.

“I’m just cold… and tired.”

“Okay, I’ll run to get you something, and you start getting ready. Sounds good?” 

He immediately shook his head and, once again, tried to cuddle you. “You promised we’d stay here until the alarm went off.”

“I know, my love, but this is the first race of the triple header, and you need to be okay. You shouldn’t do it while being sick,” you said, rubbing his check softly. “I’ll meet you at the track, yeah?”

“No, please. Let’s just cuddle for a bit longer,” he insisted. 

You sighed, debating in your mind what you should do. On one hand, you knew he wouldn’t give up, and it really couldn’t hurt to just cuddle him for a little while; he really needed it after all, but on the other, he really needed to take something so he wouldn’t feel that way for the rest of the weekend—not only that, but the two other weekends he had ahead of him.

“It’s only media day. I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” you finally gave in, “but I’m serious, you have to take something.”

“I will. I will get checked later today at the track. Don’t worry,” he reassured you. 

“Yeah, I’ll make sure of that.” You went back to your cuddly position as your hand caressed the back of his head.

“I know you will.”

The minutes went by too quickly to his liking, the alarm going off just moments later. To him, it felt like 5 seconds, not 5 minutes. He groaned when you started to get up, leaving the warmth and comfort of the hotel bed to start getting ready for the day.

“We had a deal, c’mon,” you said, offering him your hand. He took it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.

“I wish we could stay here all day.” He stood in front of you and cupped your face as his thumbs caressed your cheeks.

“Aw, I know, my love, but the day will be over before you know it, and we can come back later to cuddle a little more, okay?”

He just nodded and made his way to the bathroom. You both started getting ready quickly, knowing the car that would take you to the track was probably already downstairs waiting for you.

Once you had everything you needed, he took your hand and gave it a little kiss, whispering a soft “Okay, time to go” before leaving the room.

You got to the track, and he immediately had to start doing things for the weekend that awaited him; you knew he wouldn’t get checked or take something unless you were on his hair about it, so you thought telling Jon would be a good idea.

It was hard to find a moment to go to the clinic due to their busy schedule, but you were able to finally drag him there.

You were standing close to him as he dangled his feet on the small bed, getting his throat checked by the doctor.

“It seems like you have a cough, nothing too serious,” the doctor said as she stepped away from him, writing something on the piece of paper attached to the wooden board where she was writing down his symptoms. “I will give you some medicine; take this right now, and then make sure you take it every 8 hours. Something for the fever too, in case you feel sick later, but only take one, and only if you get a fever. Also some painkillers; have you had any headaches?”

“A little bit, last night.”

“Any other thing you have been feeling?”

“I think that’s all.”

“Alright, that should be all then. Drink a lot of fluids and stay away from any alcohol or smoking. It’s not too bad, but if anything comes up, you know where to find me.”

Lando was just nodding, but you paid attention to everything she said, making a mental note of how to take care of him. 

Once they were done with all the paperwork, you left the clinic, Lando holding everything the doctor had prescribed. 

“I will hold on to those, thank you,” you said, taking all the medicine and putting it in your bag, safe and sound. You checked the time and set a reminder for 8 hours, so you didn’t forget about the cough medicine.

“Thank you, my love,” he said before kissing the top of your head.

You looked up at him with a smile, feeling sad that he got sick at the beginning of the triple header. You knew how demanding his job was and how demanding he was on himself, so it wouldn’t be a smooth recovery, so the least you could do was help him however you could.

“Lando, we have to get going. I think they are already waiting for us,” Jon said as he typed something on his phone.

The rest of the day was a little boring, which was expected considering Lando and Oscar had to spend all day talking to people or recording some videos and interviews, but you never left his side, just in case he needed something or started to feel sick again. Any time he was away from the people or cameras, you immediately ran up to him, your hand landing somewhere on his skin to make sure he didn’t have a fever.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still a little tired, and my throat is starting to bother me again. But other than that, all good.”

“Oh, is it too bad?”

“Not too bad; I guess all the talking isn’t really helping,” he chuckled, in hopes of not worrying you too much, but you couldn’t help it, and he knew that.

“I figured. You should drink some water,” you handed him the bottle you had been holding all day. He took it and drank the water that was left, thankful that you made sure to have it on you the whole time.  “Where are we going now?”

“We are staying here. We have a couple more things to do.” You nodded, holding his hand for just a moment since someone called his name from the other side of the room. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Okay.” You let go of his hand, watching as he joined Oscar and some other people on a big couch. They were talking about the next video they had to film, so since he was busy with his job, you figured you could step away for a moment.

You wandered around as you looked up what the best tea was to help with a sore throat. Once you settled on ginger, you looked everywhere for it, but it wasn’t as common as you hoped. You did manage to find some, finally, and you ran back to the McLaren hospitality so you could give it to him. Thankfully, when you found him, he was just scrolling on his phone, sitting away from everyone.

“Hey, I brought you some tea. This should help your sore throat.” He looked up from his phone to take the disposable cup you were holding. “It might not be as hot as it should be, but it should still do the trick,” you said nervously.

“What is it?” He asked, sniffing it.

“Ginger.”

“Ginger? Where did you find ginger tea?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you said as you sat on his lap.

“Thanks, darling,” he whispered before taking a sip, clearing his throat afterwards. 

“You should drink all of it.”

“It’s a little spicy. Do you want to try?” He said, offering you the cup.

“No, I don’t want your germs,” you joked, making him laugh. You laughed with him, enjoying the little glimpse of his dimple.

“I’m afraid you got those when we kissed.”

It wasn’t instant, but the tea definitely helped. The rest of the day went on quicker since all the major stuff got done in the morning, so before you knew it, you were already back at the hotel.

“Lando, take this.” You were taking out the bag of medicine you got from the doctor that morning, picking up the bottle that he was supposed to drink every 8 hours.

“What is it?”

“Your medicine, silly. It’s time.”

He made a disgusted face as he took it. “It tastes horrible.”

“I know, but you can’t skip it.” You stood there until he was done, an even more disgusted look adorning his face. “Are you feeling better than this morning?”

He nodded, giving you back the bottle since he knew you wanted to keep all his medicine together. “Will you take a shower with me?” He asked out of nowhere. You raised your eyebrows at his question, and he realized how it came across so immediately clarified. “Not for that reason.”

You couldn’t hold your laugh, but you quickly realised he just needed help. “Do you want me to help wash your hair?”

“Please.If you are okay with it.” 

You followed him to the bathroom, turning on the water and making sure it was warm and nice  while he discarded his clothes. He stepped in first, letting out a small moan when the warm water started to cover his body. He offered you his hand once you got naked, his strong arms wrapping around your body when you joined him.

You stayed like that for a moment, until you pulled away to gently massage his scalp. 

“This is nice,” he cooed, his eyes closing as he relaxed at the feeling.

“Mhmm, I’m glad, baby.”

“Are we going to sleep after this?” His eyes met yours as he awaited for your answer, smiling when you nodded. “Good, you promised some cuddles this morning.”

“I know, I haven’t forgotten.” It warmed your heart that he had been looking forward to it, but it broke it at the same time because, even though he always asked for it, you knew it was different this time. “Bent down a little for me,” you instructed as you reached for the shampoo and squeezed some on your hand. He did as you asked, leaving his head in perfect reach for you.

Your fingertips went back to massage his scalp gently as you made sure you covered all of it. He was humming at your touch, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the soothing sensation.

“Does your head hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted, “not too bad, though.” You looked at him with sad eyes, wishing you could take his pain away and take it yourself.

“Okay, I will give you something for that, and then we can go to bed, okay?” 

You continued helping him for the rest of the shower, and then he offered to help you the same way you did. You accepted, but it did take a little longer considering you had a lot more hair than he did, but he was happy to do it. When you were both done, you stepped back into the bathroom, handing him a towel and making him sit on the little stool in front of one of the mirrors.

With tired eyes, Lando met your gaze through the mirror, paying attention to your every move as you dried his hair. He loved the way your face scrunched when you were focused, sticking out your tongue from time to time. You were being so gentle with him that he almost felt like crying, but he held those emotions back, not wanting to worry you even more than you already were.

Once his hair was fully dried and you helped him with most of his nightly routine, you guided him to the bedroom and gave him a pill for his headache, letting him get under the covers afterwards. He dragged you with him, pulling you into a hug as soon as you got there.

“Can we do this every night?” He asked, his face burying in your neck as he usually does.

“Of course. Anything you want, my love. Are you comfortable?” You asked, a smile spreading across your face when he nodded.

“Thank you,” he whispered after a moment of silence, his mind drifting off into a peaceful sleep as you massaged his muscles.

Lando fell asleep almost instantly, allowing you to go to sleep once you made sure he was fully knocked out for the night. 

A few hours went by, both of you enjoying each other’s warmth, until the sound of an alarm interrupted your sleep. You groaned as you reached for your phone to turn it off, but immediately sat up and grabbed his medicine.

Lando shuffled next to you, groaning too as he slightly opened his eyes to quickly scan the room. “It’s still dark outside, why do you have an alarm?” He asked, his voice sleepy and his eyes half closed as he looked at you.

“Sorry, love, it’s time for your medicine again.” 

He sat up and took the little spoon you were offering him, his sleepy state saving him from the terrible taste it had. Once he was done, he fell on his pillow again and pulled into him, going back to your previous position.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Even though the sleep was evident in his voice, you could still hear how truly thankful he was.

You placed your hands on each of his cheeks, causing his eyes to flutter shut in contentment. “Of course, what type of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?” A soft kiss was pressed to his forehead before he brought you closer to him, a little ‘I love you’ scaping his lips as he went back to sleep.

[themultifanshipper]

could you write some dry humping with Oscar? The rest is up to you

You were both so exhausted after the triple header, neither of you even bothered taking your clothes off before falling into bed together.

Warnings: gn!reader, also driver!reader cus why not, dry humping, slight dirty talk, quite fluffy, oh also biting bc i'm a freak like that

It was desperate, and it was messy.

Your boyfriend/teammate/rival had been driving you nuts all weekend. “We can't have sex it will affect our performance, bla bla fucking bla”.

And the truth is you hadn't had a moment to yourselves, both of you being so busy with media duties and meetings and sim work and racing.

It was now Sunday night, post-race after a well deserved p1 and p2 finish. You were on top of the world.

And you wanted your fucking boyfriend, even if your body felt like fucking lead.

You dropped onto the bed after him and he pulled you into his arms.

You both knew you were too pent up to got to sleep so you wrapped your arms around each other and sloppily made out.

It started out pretty slow, wandering hands squeezing flesh, gripping onto the various fabric covering your bodies.

When your hips met it was like a fire had ignited inside you, slotting your legs together to rub yourselves on each other's thighs.

It was almost sweet how you clung to each other, panting into the other's mouth, eyes closing of their own volition in exhaustion.

But the need for release was stronger, as you held on tighter, and tighter until neither of you could breathe properly.

“Oscar” you moaned, pathetic and high pitched into his mouth.

“Uuuugh-“ he reponded, not even able to form words.

“Need-“ you weren't much better.

“Wha?” he groaned, hips rolling against yours deliciously, his cock leaking into his boxers with need.

“Not enough, Osc” you whined.

He huffed into your mouth before lazily rolling you over so he was on top, and he spread your legs so that he could slide in between them.

His mouth went to your jaw, biting and sucking as he whined at the friction.

The two of you were rutting against each other like rabbits in heat but neither of you wanted to stop, the need growing by the second.

“Fuck look at us, gonna cum in our pants like fucking teenagers, pathetic”

You tugged on his hair and he groaned, hips pressing into yours even harder.

It was almost bordering on pain with how hard you were rubbing against each other, and you wouldn't be surprised if you both got chafing from this, but it was too good to stop.

The heat was stifling, your clothes sticking to your bodies with sweat, but if you stopped even for a second you would lose the high that you so desperately craved so you powered through. Barely taking a second to breathe before your mouth was on his and you both moaned.

When you separated for air again, you went straight to his thick neck, where you knew he loved to be bitten. So you did. You trailed your teeth along his pulse point and sank your teeth in, ripping a guttural moan from your boyfriend.

He gripped your neck in retaliation, immediately going to bite your lip, hard.

You couldn't even tell whether he drew blood or not, you two were so close you could almost taste it, and he managed to groan out “Fuck, I love you” before letting out a high pitched moan as he reached his high.

You let out a matching one a second later and you both shuddered in overstimulation as he rolled his hips a few more times before stopping completely and rolling you back onto your sides.

He planted a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose.

You both closed your eyes in bliss, not even opening them when he spoke nonsense.

“You didn't say it back, should I consider this breakup sex?”

You scoffed.

“Fuck off, I love you too and you know it” you slapped him lightly and he giggled, pulling you closer into him.

You were so tired you drifted off to sleep immediately, not even taking your damp, disgusting clothes off.

Cleanup was a problem for future you. Right now, nothing could have pulled you from the warm embrace of your boyfriend.

[d3n1r]

fwb: nanami kento (18+)

nanami kento doesn't know how to be just "friend's with benefits".

tags: (fem aligned user) (uses y/n) (jealousy) (not proofread also sorry this is my first real smut ive posted on tumblr) (uses the L word (gasp!))

(art for header found on pinterest)

•—————————————————————————•

fwb!nanami didn't know how to approach you, his friend and colleague, about being friend's with benefits. he wasn' the kind of man to just have sex with someone. he didn't fuck- he made love. it wasn't until gojo dug his nose in, asking you if you'd ever want a fwb within earshot of nanami- you saying you wouldn't be opposed- that made him even think to ask.

fwb!nanami who brought a bouquet of roses to your apartment the first time he came over to "netflix and chill," stumbling over his words and acting like an utter fool in front of you. it was cute, and you eased him into the situation as naturally and slowly as your body would allow. his arm was awkwardly placed on your shoulder as you nuzzled up against him on the couch, and he seemed all too focused on the movie that was playing.

"kento, do you just wanna watch the movie and try again another day?" your soft voice cooed, and it made him fall apart, the sweat on the back of his neck rolling down his back. oh god, you were so pretty. he knew he wasn't doing anything right, and yet you still looked up at him so affectionately. this isn't what friends with benefits act like, was it?

"n-no, i'm just.. i've never done anything like this before." he swallowed whatever moisture had stayed in his dry mouth, forcing himself to meet your eyes, only to meet an understanding gaze that tore down all of his walls.

"it's okay, we can go slow."

fwb!nanami who's so gentle with you during your first time together. even though you wanted your brains fucked out, his gentle touch and praise that spilled from his lips as you sunk onto his length was equally satisfying.

"you're so warm n tight, y/n.. i can't, 's too much. you feel so good," nanami groaned, his hands kneading your hips as your lips kissed along his neck, licking soothing stripes along his sensitive skin to ease him through it.

he wasn't a virgin, but still.. this. this was new. fucking someone just to fuck them. to fuck you, his gorgeous friend who had always behaved so normally towards him. would things stay normal between you two? he was already overthinking. how did friends with benefits just stay friends when all he could think about was how pretty your face twisted in pleasure, how soft your skin felt-

"kento," the sound of your sighed moan snapped him into reality, and he whimpered in his low, gentle voice, his head falling back against the couch as you rolled your hips against him. that's right- all he needed to think about right now was how good you felt milking his cock, not how your friendship was gonna turn out tomorrow.

"oh, fuck, y/n."

fwb!nanami who didn't wanna leave you that night when you fell asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest. carefully, he carried you to bed, tucking you in while stroking his fingers through your hair.

"stay," your sleepy, mumbly voice shot an arrow through his chest just as he was trying to quietly leave your bedroom.

yes, of course he'd stay. you'd taken such good care of him, making sure he was comfortable while taking every last drop of cum he had to offer. he didn't realize how pent up he was until he unloaded into you the first time. but once your lips wrapped around him maybe an hour later, he grew more needy, thrusting his dick down your throat as he gently massaged the nape of your neck.

hesitantly he snuggled into bed with you, your sleeping form molding perfectly against his, your face subconsciously nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him close. were friends with benefits supposed to be this intmate? should his heart be racing like this?

but as the events of the day weighed heavier on him, he couldn't bear it, trying to find a way to fall asleep. with your steady breaths and warmth as you cuddled him it wasn't hard to get drowsy, but his thoughts consumed him. maybe this was a mistake- him and his bleeding heart.

fwb!nanami who made you breakfast the next morning. and everytime after that. he always brought you an offering like roses or flowers when he'd come over, and treat you like a queen each morning, kissing along your body to wake you up, tasting you before you'd get a taste of his cooking.

it was cathartic for him. no strings attached, just pleasure. it took him a while to understand the point in it, perhaps less stress?

though his heart still raced everytime you sat with him at work or hung out with him- not calling it a date.

"ken, you shouldn't have. we're just grabbing coffee," you whined with your face flushed red. again, this princely man bought your coffee for you and pulled out your chair as you sat at the cafe.

"i wanted to," he would say everytime, shaking his head. and he said the same when he insisted on walking you home from work, fucking you when you got home from work, massaging your muscles from the stress of work, oh lord this man was head over heels-

fwb!nanami who didn't realize he had fallen in love with you until someone at the grocery store asked for your number.

how could someone walk up to you, standing so pretty next to the shopping cart both you and him were putting groceries in, and ask if you were single? as if nanami wasn't standing right there, pushing your shopping cart, guiding you out of the traffic of other shoppers with his hand on the small of your back?

"oh, thank you, but i'm not interested in dating right now." was your response, making nanami's neck tighten. what does that mean? what were you two doing there?

you weren't dating, no. the point is that you were friends with benefits. no strings attached. just fucking, just pleasing each other. this grocery trip was as friends, the breakfasts together were as friends, the sex was as friends-

"ken," again, your voice was like the smooth, untouchable hand pulling him out of a bush full of thorns and pulling him into your softness. "did we get garlic already?"

"mhm," was the only sound to escape his throat. to hell if you were dating or not- he needed you, perhaps even more than you needed him. or at least more than you realized you needed him.

fwb!nanami who pounded you hard into the mattress that night. he was a gentle lover for the most part, always checking in on you, whispering your praises, moaning into your ear as he finished in you.

not tonight. he needed to let out that pent out rage, towards the person who asked you out of course- not you.

"who's this pretty pussy belong to, hmm?" he chuckled as he gripped your hair tighter, pressing your face down into your pillow harder. His free hand was holding your hips with a bruising grip, keeping your ass up as he fucked you into another orgasm.

"k-ken, aagh," you mewled, your hands balling into fists as you held the sheets tighter. "'m yours kento, f-fuck.."

he smiled- it was dizzying, your voice being so broken and yet so his. "that's it beautiful. all mine."

by the time he was satisfied he was dripping sweat, his chest against your back as his breath came out in ragged pants.

of course, ever the gentleman, he slowly slid his cock out from you, watching with possessiveness and satisfaction as his cum dribbled down your folds, and then your bruised thighs. a part of him felt bad for being so rough, but then watching your legs tremble and your pussy pulse around nothing made him feel much less guilty.

"lemme take care of you, pretty," he murmured, helping you stand before carrying you to the bathroom. he was so sweet, sitting down on the bench in the shower, having you on his lap facing him as he washed the sweat and mess off your body with his large yet gentle hands.

you were drowsy from the mix of getting fucked stupid and the heat of the shower, and nanami's soapy hands kneading at your flesh was only making you feel more at ease. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, arms weakly wrapping around him.

"love you, ken," you murmured into his neck, eyes fluttering to try and stay open.

nanami froze, feeling an intense rush of heat rise to his face from ear to ear. he was sure that he would be the one to say it first. with how he worshipped you, he was positive that the words would leave his tongue first.

but alas there you were, softly kissing his collarbone as you fought to stay awake. his heart swelled, more than his cock as it twitched. god, he could fuck you again just for saying that. but more than that he wanted so desperately to kiss you.

"i love you too, y/n," he hummed, tilting your head up to meet your content smile, pressing his lips to yours, lovingly, as if he had never kissed you before.

[little-diable]

Kinktober Day 1 - Jasper Hale

Here we go – my favourite month is finally upon us! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🖤 Blood 🖤

Warnings: 18+, smut, rough piv, blood play

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (700 words)

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

header by @theanythingbuthuman 🤍

The room was barely alight, only a few candles were offering some flickering guidance. (Y/n) had lost all sense of time, unsure how long she and Jasper had been hiding away in her bedroom, finding comfort in one another’s presence as they chased one high after another.

“Can you take another, darlin’?” His voice had a slight condescending touch to it, leaving her choking on a “Yes”. The vampire smirked down at her, losing himself in his thoughts about his mate - seconds she used to flip him around, straddling his waist.

“It’s my turn now.” Not once had she done this before, preferring to have Jasper guiding their moments together. But something had shifted inside of her today, something that left (y/n) ending up right here, sinking down on his cock while his eyes turned into a darker shade. Her walls fluttered around him, holding onto his cock while he impatiently bucked his hips.

(Y/n) could tell that Jasper was struggling to hold himself back, but perhaps it was also the fault of the small dagger she reached for. Somewhere along the way, they had begun to include knives into their back and forth, Jasper liked to tease her with the cold metal, seeing the excitement swim in her pupils. But not once had he cut her, always careful not to harm her.

Her fingers trembled as she brought the tip of the dagger up to her pointer finger, smirking down at Jasper. (Y/n) knew that she could trust him fully, knowing that he would never risk her safety, and yet her heart still skipped a few beats the second she lightly cut her skin. The groan leaving Jasper made her gasp, keeping her eyes focused on him before bringing her bleeding finger up to his lips.

They held eye contact as he parted his lips, eyes filled with an unfamiliar sensation she hadn’t seen thump through his system until this very moment. He was struggling, knowing that he needed to do something before the predator inside of him could gain the upper hand, so he flipped her around again, hovering over (y/n) to roughly fuck into her.

“Oh, fuck, Jas’.” She was close to screaming, wide eyed staring at the man who fucked her harder than ever before probably. He was high on the taste of her blood, knowing that he would be forever addicted to it, unable to ever forget about the no longer foreign taste.

Sounds she couldn’t pinpoint left him, blending together with the sounds of their bodies meeting with every ferocious thrust. (Y/n) knew that her overstimulated body wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, not expecting him to react like that to her taste, a single drop which had elevated his mood to new levels.

She felt him deep inside of her, close to destroying the metallic frame of her bed with how roughly he moved. And yet she didn’t find it in herself to complain, both were too far gone, (y/n) with her body trembling with need, Jasper with eyes that were close to turning so black that even night itself would fear the depth of the darkness he emenated.

“Jas,” (y/n) choked on his name as she came. With her head thrown back, with her fingernails scratching at his skin, she let her orgasm clash through her. Jasper kept snapping his hips against hers, burying himself inside of her with a strength he’d apologise for later on.

(Y/n) lost her grip on reality, allowing him to use her body while he came himself, falling over the edge with a choked out groan. With her last ounce of strength, she pulled him down for a kiss, letting their tongues meet while he pulled out of her.

“Are you hurt, darlin’?” Jasper’s voice was rougher, lower, still high on the scent and taste of her blood. She could only shake her head, too far gone to put her thoughts into proper words, and yet (y/n) couldn't help but pull Jasper closer, needing to feel him with his arms wrapped around her to guide her to safety.

[freakyformula]

Car sex headcanon with Charles Leclerc

Warnings: Made in like 15 minutes lol, car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink

-

It was supposed to just be a car ride home from Nice. You'd just landed, and both of you were exhausted from the flight and the triple-header weekends. You looked forward to sleeping in your own bed and getting to wind down with Charles.

He looks over at you, as you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and dozing off.

Something about the fact that you looked so innocent and harmless sparked something in him and he felt himself growing hard in his pants.

He carefully places his hand on your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. He is desperate to feel you but doesn't want to wake you up.

Your head bobs up as he pulls over, confused as to why you had come to a stop.

"What's wrong, Charles?" You ask.

He sighs, and looks away, focusing on the traffic outside.

You notice the bulge in his pants and sigh, not from annoyance but rather to collect your thoughts.

You're about to say something but he beats you to it.

"I... I'm not sure if I can wait until we get home, Y/N." He says, looking at you with a frown.

"Hey..." You start, "Talk to me, Charles."

The grip on your thigh tightens as the fire in his eyes intensifies.

"Get in the back, mon amour." He orders.

And you oblige. You get in the backseat in record time, meeting him halfway across the seat. Your mouths crash into each other and his hands start wandering.

First, they find your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to his face.

His hands slide down to your chest, sliding his hands under your oversized hoodie, finding out you're naked under it. When his hands land on your tits, Charles lets out a satisfied sigh. "Naughty girl..." He whispers between kisses.

You feel his hands slide down your back, coming to a stop on your ass. He spanks you lightly, causing you to gasp out of surprise rather than pain from the sting of his hand on your exposed skin.

Your reaction makes him chuckle, "Sorry." He says innocently, even though you know he wasn't sorry about his actions.

He helps you slide your sweatpants off, and his hands instantly land on your ass again, toying with the lining of your underwear.

Charles keeps his eyes glued on your face to catch any sign of you feeling uncomfortable but instead, he's pleasantly surprised by you helping him slide your panties down.

"Touch me, Charles, please..." You beg while pulling on his hand desperately.

He huffs, "So desperate for me, chérie." But he does as you say, after all, you asked very nicely.

His lips land on yours, and his hands slide down from your shoulders to the small of your back, guiding you onto your hands and knees.

"Fuck, mon amour. So beautiful like this." He coos as his fingers slide the insides of your thighs, teasing you out of your mind.

When you hear the clinking of his belt you let out a small whimper, knowing what is about to come your way.

You grab the car door handle, steadying yourself.

"You ready for me, mon amour?" He asks, and you nod frantically as an answer.

"Good." He praises and gives himself a few pumps before lining himself up with you.

His fingers slide along your slit, collecting your arousal on his digits. The wetness of you earns you a groan from him.

When his tip touches your opening, you instinctively push back on him, making him pull back. "No." He says, with a prolonged "o".

He teases your opening, barely sliding in, and pulling out again.

You groan in annoyance, "Fuck Charles!" You yell, on the brink of feeling pissed.

He chuckles and finally finds his way home.

You both moan out brokenly as he burrows into you, centimetre by centimetre.

"Feel so good..." You whimper and clench around him, making him hammer into you harder.

His grunts become more frequent and desperate and you feel yourself getting closer to your release as he plays with your clit, and slides from where you are connected and back to your sensitive button.

His fingers did their magic and you soon came closer, almost tumbling over the edge.

"Cum for me." Charles demands, and you do, hard, like the good girl you are.

Charles keeps his eyes on your contorted face as you convulse beneath him, while he moves in you.

You feel your arms and legs giving up. When you are about to give in, Charles grabs you, pulling you up again.

His arms bring you up against his chest, allowing him access even deeper into you.

As you are sitting on his cock, he continues ravaging your pussy, slamming into your cervix.

His lips brush against your earlobe, nibbling on it, while praising you on how well you take him, and how well you are doing for him.

"I'm close, Y/N. I'm so proud of you..." He announces while slowing down his movements.

And a couple of thrusts later, he slams into you, painting your deepest crevices with his white cream.

"Oh my god..." You whisper, loud enough for him to hear clearly. His grunts in your ear egg you on even further, and you push down on him instinctively.

He pumps into you a few more times before stilling, waiting out the aftershocks.

"You did so well, my love." He coos.

When he pulls out, you are left clenching around nothing, and Charles seems to notice. He carefully inserts two fingers into you and plays with the cum threatening to escape onto the black seats.

"We can't let that happen, can we?" He says as you feel his hardening cock slapping against you, ready to plug you up with his cock. "Ready to be filled up again?" He winks.

[airbendertendou]

May I please get a scenario or hc (whatever is easier for you!) of Rindo’s s/o dying their hair to match his hair color? Like they do it while he’s at work and he has no idea until he comes home. Thank you! I hope you have a good day/night!

synopsis : reader changes their hair to match their boyfie <3 characters included : mikey, ran, draken, koko & bonten!rindou

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

— MANJIRO! ♥︎ you copy his classic, half-up hairstyle ♥︎ doesn't even notice you've changed your hair ♥︎ draken says something snarky abt it like "oh, you're matching, cute." ♥︎ nd mikey goes ??? w his cheeks puffed out from a taiyaki ♥︎ but when he turns to see you ♥︎ it's like the sun shines down onto you carefully ; like angels are singing ; like he's falling in love all over again ♥︎ his head flops onto your shoulder, arms shakily bringing you closer to his hold ♥︎ mumbles something about turning you into a sano /:

— DRAKEN! ♥︎ you go for jus a simple braid, a little piece of hair tugged out ♥︎ he snorts when he sees you, rolling his eyes nd everything ♥︎ but his ears are so so red ♥︎ and hes thought abt how to tell you how pretty you look ; how you need a dragon tattoo now, too ♥︎ shoves you under his arm when you tease him abt his blush, digging his chin into the top of your head annoyingly ♥︎ tugs on that little strand a lot!! jus to get your attention, he swears ♥︎ but has this sort of pride in his eyes when you show your hair off at the toman meeting

— RAN! ♥︎ your hair is styled into two braided pigtails ♥︎ oh hes so smug ♥︎ but also keeps an eye narrowed and focused on anyone mking inappropriate comments ♥︎ we live in a society where pigtails are sexualized ♥︎ twirls your braids the way he twirls his!! ♥︎ will also purposely mess his hair up so you have to fix it for him ): ♥︎ grins at any and all matching hair accessories he see ♥︎ talk him out of getting the giant, obvious bows please

— KOKONOI! ♥︎ can b his bonten hair or his current one! ♥︎ either way, you twist or braid a few pieces of hair to mimic his style ♥︎ hates it at first ♥︎ bc how dare you make his signature style look better than he does ):< ♥︎ ends up liking it bc now he has easy access to kiss your ear nd neck ♥︎ he goes through all the other styles you'd look nice in ; all the colors you could pull off ♥︎ something about your hair matching his... ♥︎ makes you feel more official, somehow

— RINDOU! ♥︎ bonten era ; you get the jellyfish cut! or maybe copy his colors- ♥︎ he knew abt your hair appointment but didnt think it was anything out of the ordinary ♥︎ little did he know.... ♥︎ he just stares ♥︎ like wide-eyed, heartstopping, can barely breathe stares ♥︎ stands to his full height and cups your chin, turning your head gently to get a full view ♥︎ grins w pink cheeks ): kisses the tip of your nose and just continues to stare ♥︎ "all mine......" its whispered before he takes your breath in a kiss ♥︎ He's Obsessed.

——♥︎—— im so sorry for the lack of content lately ); hope this was okay / the format was alright. if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♥︎

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @thatpoindexterpixy @night-shadowblood-writes2 @muichirouswifeandhusband @chrofeisnightmaregf

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[danieyells]

idk if this has been brought up before, sorry if it has, and maybe I'm just thinking too hard on this but I keep looking at the official tokyo debunkers Twitter banner and like seeing taiga with that smirk, but then the broken piece has him with a wide eye + the theories of him seeing the future and such got me thinking.. or maybe it's just a cool banner, what do I know LOL

lol i waited until i got home because i had it saved in HQ for reasons that probably won't come to pass off the twitter page on my laptop

I LOVE THIS BANNER it's such a good image and it shows off Taiga's crazy. Taiga is kind of the game mascot atm, interestingly enough. He's the first character you meet, he's the game icon and twitter header, he has some important knowledge of a major plot point. . .you'd think it'd be Kaito since he's kind of your sidekick and the one who teaches you everything at first, but Taiga's got all the impact.

But yeah, either he's losing his mind back there, or he's Seeing Some Shit. The broken gap in the image showing him with wide eyes is very much a little suggestion of 'there is more going on here than you see on the surface' which, admittedly, is kind of the setting of the game('there's more to the world than meets the eye and you're thrown into the world of anomalies common sense would tell you aren't real') but. . .yeah, if you think about Taiga possibly being able to see the future, which is similarly a hidden aspect of him, then the image is even cooler.

I'm honestly getting more and more attached to that theory as time goes on. Because I remembered today at work. . .Taiga doesn't wear gloves with his uniform, unlike with his house outfit.

When the pc is in the torture chair and his hunger is triggered by their blood, he touches them, bare hand to bare skin.

and then suddenly he snaps out of it, suddenly aware that Romeo was coming.

to which I suspect. . .touching the pc caused them to enhance his stigma by accident. This happened to activate it automatically. And he saw the future without meaning to--perhaps in more detail than usual. That's also how he knew exactly where to shoot to hit the like dove--because he saw it fly in in his stigma's vision.

That's also why he said Ritsu could close the casino and he didn't need it.

The whole future he saw was so fucked(again?) and the casino wasn't helping to alleviate or avoid whatever he had made it for, or perhaps was causing more of a problem--it had, after all, spawned a dangerous anomaly. He just sort of lost steam and gave up all of a sudden. Yeah, take it away, we're fucked no matter what we do. (He got better, though. I too overcome my trauma and depression by forgetting things.)

. . .BUT UH YEAH. IT'S A SUPER GOOD BANNER IMAGE THAT SAYS A LOT. I really love it. Taiga is seeing into the code. It is traumatic but when he forgets in 15 minutes he'll be fine.

[babyara]

Family (Between Us)

[pricetagofficial]

Day 23: Movie Night

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Language, Dick is a menace

A/N: Welcome to day 23! We are in the final days until Christmas! I hope you all have a good week! Header by me, Divider by @cafekitsune

Masterlist

It was the final few days until Christmas, and you and Jason were sitting on the couch together enjoying the night.

Or you would be, if you could decide on a movie.

What was originally supposed to be a movie night, turned into you finding out just how many movies were banned in Wayne Manor growing up.

Some of the most iconic Christmas movies ever made, Jason has only seen a few times to not at all.

"So, explain to me why Elf is banned again?

Jason had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you tightly into his side as the movie of topic played on the television.

"This one wasn't actually anyone's fault. Bruce just hates Will Ferrel and never let us watch it."

You were about to argue, but looking at the movie you were watching, maybe it was a good idea. You didn't want to know what Jason's siblings would do when they were kids with this movie.

"Polar Express?"

"Dick tried to the hot chocolate thing with Tim and Stephanie. You remember the rug that used to be in the lounge?"

You looked confused. "What rug?"

"Exactly."

That sounded like a lame reason, but you didn't exactly blame Bruce either.

"Grinch?" You tried.

"Tim and Duke tried to make the sleigh, and rally poor Titus into it. Bruce banned it because Damian almost killed them for that." he chuckled. "Hilariously, it was Dick's idea but Damian would never do anything to him."

You laughed, you could see the scenario playing out in your head. Damian running around with his sword, after a frantic Tim and Duke with Titus barking after them with a single antler on his head.

"The Santa Clause?"

Jason snorted. "Bruce woke up one night with Dick on the roof trying to scare Santa."

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head. "What in the world?"

"Is a much nicer sentence than what Bruce said when he found him. At least, that's what I've heard."

At this point you were running out of Christmas movies.

"Home Alone?"

"Dick."

White Christmas?"

Jason nodded. "That's allowed."

"A Christmas Carol?"

"Muppet version only,"

"Why?"

"Dick."

You didn't know what else to say. "Just how many of these are Dick's fault?"

Jason didn't even hesitate. "Just about every single one of them."

A meeting needed to be scheduled to speak with Dick and why he must ruin every Christmas movie.

"What about Die Hard?"

You watched as Jason shifted beside you. "That's actually my fault," he admitted.

"What did you do?"

Jason chuckled as he looked at you. "I may or may not have hidden in the vents one Christmas after coming back, with an airsoft gun and may or may not have shot everyone, except Aflred obviously."

Your jaw dropped. "You did not, as a grown-ass adult?"

He nodded. "I even quoted the movie every time I shot them."

"You are unbelievable."

Jason seemed to take offense to that. "Hey! Dick literally recreated the traps from Home Alone and made them more effective. If he wasn't stopped, someone was going to die."

You crossed your arms looking at him. "And how old was he?"

"He was like 12."

"He was a child!

"He acts like one."

You let out a groan and leaned back on the couch. "Well good news. He isn't here to ruin them so we are watching every movie you missed out on."

Jason looked at you once more with a smile. "Sounds like a plan, princess."

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day eight.

Car Sex (1k words)

summary: Lando was eager to use his brand new car with you.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, stablished relationship, unprotected sex, public-ish sex.

Having a secret relationship with a Formula One driver meant having to sneak around even in the most private places; somehow, someone always managed to find him, but so far, you had been lucky.

There is no denying that it was a little annoying how hard it was sometimes to not even be able to have him come into your apartment building or come into his, since you were both worried someone would spot you leaving each other places, start a rumour, and have people even more interested in his love life than they already were, so sometimes, meeting somewhere to spend time together inside his car was the best option.

Like tonight. He had just come back from England and you knew he had to leave soon for the American triple header, so you needed to make the most of the time you had together before leaving again, even if it was just a few hours.

“I’ve missed you- so much,” Lando said in between kisses. He grinned when you straddled his lap. You struggled a bit, but when you finally managed, his hands immediately finding your hips.

“Yeah?” You asked, slightly moving your hips to create some friction, the action making him moan. “How much?”

“So much, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, softly biting at your lower lip. His hands explored your torso like he had never touched you before, thumbing at the soft flesh under your shirt.

“Really? You couldn’t stop thinking about me?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving your hips one more time.

“Mhm,” he hummed, “I can’t seem to get you off my mind, love.” You smiled at the pet name and leaned in for another kiss. It always got really heated really quick after he had been away for a while, and you loved to get him all worked up, to the point where he couldn’t keep himself from dragging your hips against him to intensify the pleasure. 

“I missed you too," you mumbled back against his lips that were slowly moving along his, keeping your hands on his hair. Lando occasionally travelled from under your shirt to your thighs, humming and moaning softly into the kiss until he allowed his hands to explore further down, finding the hem of your skirt. 

He teased you for a bit, but eventually he decided he needed to take you, to feel you. 

One of his long fingers sneaked past your underwear and into your soaked folds, making you slightly lift your hips to give him more acces. He smiled at this, loving how needy you were for him. Lando started rubbing your clit with his thumb while his middle finger teased your entrance.

At this point, you were a moaning mess as he worked to get you to an orgasm. “More,” was all you managed to say, and he happily complied, rubbing harder and faster as his finger slowly entered your hole. He was planning on making this quick, because the sooner you finished, the sooner he would get to be inside you.

His pace was desperate, and even more desperate were your moans, making Lando needier than he already was. He entered a second finger, and he knew it was over when you started to squeeze them hard. 

“Come for me, baby,” he said in a tone you could never get tired of. This really pushed you over the edge, because before you knew it, your orgasm finally hit you. “There we go.”

Lando slowed down as he helped you through your orgasm, and when you stopped moving, he quickly pulled his painful cock out of his trousers. 

You couldn’t help but look down, almost salivating at the way he gave it a few slow pumps before pushing your underwear to the side again and running his head through your folds to coat it in your juices. This made you hiss, but God, you were dying to have him inside you. 

A loud moan scaped both your mouths when you started to sit on him, fully taking him in, and as soon as he was deep inside you, he took your hips to lift you up and then made you go down again. You tried to set a pace for the both of you, but the small car made it harder than you were expecting.

“You couldn’t have brought a flashier car?” You told him, trying to ride him in the very limited space.

“No, this car is perfect for this.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, knowing you couldn’t expect anything less from him, but that eye roll was quickly replaced by one full of pleasure when he hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“See? You are still enjoying it.”

“Shut up.”

Lando continued gripping at your hips, helping you move as he thrusted up to meet you half way so you wouldn’t have to do all the work alone.

The car was hot and the windows were foggy, his Ferrari F40 bouncing with the intensity of your own movements. If anyone drove past you, they would know exactly what was going on. But honestly, neither of you could care less about that; you were just chasing that so-close release.

You would never admit it, but you did find the situation kinda hot, and maybe it was just that you hadn’t been intimate in a while, but you already found yourself with the feeling on your tummy about to snap. 

“‘m close,” you whimpered, and he was so lost in pleasure he just let out a ‘uh huh’ before intensifying his motions. You knew he was close too, so you started devouring his neck just the way he liked. 

A few more thrusts, and he was already there, the warm feeling of him inside you making you come just seconds later. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to come down from your high, and once you fully caught your breath, you carefully went back to your seat, sitting on his hoodie so you wouldn't stain his new car. 

His jeans, on the other hand, were a complete mess. You could see your juices mixed with his own, trying hard to contain your laughter as he visibly worried about how he would get into his apartment looking like that.

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[writerseclipse1]

✎ doctor!abby headcanons ✎

she would definitely be a heart surgeon or a cardiothoracic surgeon to be more exact. she would have the steadiest hands known in all of seattle. a very notable and arguably the best surgeon in all of seattle’s finest hospitals but most especially in washington general hospital.

she likes her coffee black, sometimes with a hint of sugar but that’s for the shorter days. for her night shifts, black coffee keeps her awake until the most outrageous times in the night.

she would first meet you, a medtech who works in the same hospital, during one of her night shifts. you would be typing away at your computer, analyzing data samples for other doctor, heaving a sigh as you sipped on your fourth coffee of the day.

she never noticed you before, mainly because she worked on the west side of the building. but since nora, the medtech assigned to the west building wasn’t clocked in, she had no choice but to resort to going all the way to the east building to find the other medtech.

“hey,” she said suddenly, making you jump in your seat. when you turned around, you saw her in all her glory, standing there with her white coat on and her blue scrubs. “can you analyze these samples for me? need them done by tonight, really urgent.”

you had rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath about how “medtechs are really underappreciated” and “a good evening would’ve sufficed” but you took the samples from her anyway, putting it in your machine as you crossed your arms over your chest, sipping on your coffee.

“i’m sorry, are you new here? i don’t think i’ve seen you before.” she asked, watching as you looked at her from above the rim of your cup.

you told her your name and when she tilted her head at you, you knew she’s never heard of you. “i don’t expect some hotshot surgeon knowing about me honestly. i just kind of come and go. i do my job and i leave, that’s it.” you shrugged as she nodded along.

“well, for the sake of an introduction,” she stepped forward into the dim lighting of the room and you could make out her muscles bulging out of her white coat, her right hand outstretched to shake yours. “i’m dr. anderson.”

you shook hands and made some small talk. she found out that you lived alone in a nice apartment, you’re thinking of getting a pet, and you really like music. you found out she has a dog, her dad used to be a neurosurgeon, she went to the gym more often that not (not that you needed her confirmation to know), and that she used to live in salt lake city.

“what made you move?” she chuckled at your question, her eyes darting to the machine as it beeped, showing the green light that the results were ready. but she wasn’t ready to leave the conversation just yet.

“my dad had to find a new place to work. i don’t really know what happened, i just know that whatever did, we had to move because of it.” she shrugged as you nodded along, placing your cup of coffee on your table and you turned around, taking the results and giving it to her.

“well, it was nice meeting you, dr. anderson.” you mused, sending her a wink as you got your cup of coffee again, watching the smoke lift up into the air. she chuckled lightly, looking at you with a curious grin

“abby. call me abby.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ a/n: was supposed to be writing my tess s. x reader but then i got distracted while looking for nice pictures for the header so here's doctor!abby hcs

[punkypiscesell-writes]

when it comes without a warning - ch. 1

chapter 1 - previous chapter

Javier Peña x plus size f! reader

summary: You meet a stranger at a New Years Eve party, not knowing where that chance encounter might lead.

warnings (updated after each chapter): fake dating AU, strangers to lovers, romcom, 90’s vibes, angst, small town dynamics, slow burn, pining, insecurities, drinking, smoking, food related descriptions, family mentions, mention of pregnancy, cynicism about love. The picture in the header is just for the visual and isn't an indication of the reader's skin color. Not beta read. If you see any broken Spanish, please let me know!!

word count: 9.4k

notes: Here we go, chapter 1! I hope you enjoy it <3 I will be updating this story each month, the final chapter coming out in July. The next update will be on Valentine’s Day.

dividers by cafekitsune

When you were a child, you watched a movie every Saturday evening with your mom. They made you think your life would follow a specific path. Go to school, graduate, you’d find a boyfriend who you’d someday marry and have kids with.

You’d buy a house somewhere quiet with a big garden and a picket fence. The kids would grow up and you’d watch them become their own people while knowing you’d always have your first love with you. You’d look at pictures that would span years until those would turn into decades, with the same people in them getting greyer and wrinkles all over their faces. It would be perfect.

What you didn’t understand back then, was how life doesn’t usually go like in those picture perfect stories. Rarely it’s wrapped neatly with shiny paper and finished off with a flawless bow.

You watched your friends find their first loves while you became a wallflower. You didn’t know what to do in life while others were making decisions about their futures. One by one your old friends moved away to chase their dreams, forgetting the people and memories back home. With the need to get out of the town where you grew up in, like your friends had, you realized you could turn your hobby into a job.

Chasing a dream makes people optimistic and the possibility of having your own story unfold like in one of those movies you used to watch with your mom seemed possible again. You kept your eyes open, even dared to step out of your wallflower persona, full of hope and enthusiasm. When your story still kept you waiting, you understood how chasing love doesn’t always mean chasing romantic love.

In the glimmer of a big city, you found new friends. Abigail, Eileen and Mary were actually interested in talking with you and getting to know who you are outside of being just someone’s friend. They already knew each other having grown up in the same town, but you fit in with them like the last pea in a pod.

“What’s holding you back, you can move anywhere!” Mary drunkenly encouraged on the night of your graduation, while the humidity of Austin bathed you in sweat.

“Yeah, you can start a bakery anywhere!” Abigail offered you her glass to pour more tequila into. How she said it, like it was the simplest thing in the world, made you laugh, and you thought she was joking until you realized she wasn’t. She was far from it.

“And then what? Just rot in some dying town until the end of my days?”

The seed was already planted though. They had a point. You could start a bakery anywhere if you wanted to and you could find help with the business side of things, especially in the beginning.

When you sobered up and you were sitting on an uncomfortable bar stool leaning your elbows against the kitchen island in your small, hole in the wall kitchen. You started to plan it. The more you planned, the more convinced you were you could make it work.

The movies you watched while growing up rarely had people move into a small town with a population of only a few thousand when they could move into a big city and keep those big dreams alive.

You bought a small space for your bakery from a building that used to have a restaurant. Mrs. Sánchez has a flower shop next door, and she has always been supportive of you, even when for a while you were the “new girl” in town. The whispers around you and your business were excessive, but eventually the whispering turned into actual conversations with you, rather than about you.

You had your best friends being part of their family businesses. Your bakery started to bloom. You were in control of the strings in your hands and all the puzzle pieces were clearly laid out, all of them locking into place.

“We want you to clear your schedules next July,” Noah begins with his soft voice, his calmness the complete opposite to Abigail who is hanging from his arm.

“We’re getting married y’all!” Abigail yells and pulls her hand from her fiancé, flashing a big, shiny ring for the guests to see. Your face drops as an excited shock washes through the room of Noah’s family’s luxurious farmhouse that they’ve had since forever. The high ceilings echo the eruption of cheering and clapping with the sound of glasses tinkling together in toast. You raise yours and smile, your feet rooted against the floor.

Your best friends. You look at them fawning over the ring, the smiling couple surrounded by their closest friends.  

“Finally, everyone knows!”

“Now we don’t have to hide it any longer!” Eileen and Mary laugh. Your smile doesn’t falter, it doesn’t even flinch. But it’s like a cold shower that runs down from the back of your neck to the bottom of your spine. Abigail’s eyes flash to you after the women have said the words out loud.

You used to be a part of that group of best friends. In the last couple of years they’ve turned into people you sometimes hang out with. The frequent dinners and game nights at each other’s places first turned into occasions that happened once a month, then into once every six months when schedules and life got in the way.

First it was Mary, who announced she had reconnected with her high school sweetheart. Then it was Eileen who found her boyfriend through Mary’s boyfriend. For a while it was just you and Abigail, the two of you against the world. You were bridesmaids to Mary, then to Eileen, then Mary got pregnant and Eileen right after her. You and Abigail held the fort as the only single women in your group.

And then suddenly it was only you. Their lives are different now, as is yours. You’re not in your early twenties anymore, naively finding your way in this world. Sometimes you wonder if you’ve chosen the right place for you, but you’ve also understood that you might not want the future with the house and a picket fence, a husband and kids and the pictures on a mantelpiece. Your best friends want that while you’ve chosen another path.

Then, before you can delve too deep into other existential questions, you remember a cake order that has to be filled next week or how you have to make one more batch of the new malted wheat sourdough bread because your customers are emptying your shelves before 8 am.

“So, what do you think?” Abigail catches up to you after you’ve congratulated the pair. She reaches her  left hand towards you and wiggles her hand.

You hold her fingers and twist them gently. The rock sparkles in the champagne hued light of the farmhouse. “It’s beautiful,” you smile.

“Noah chose it himself, with the help from my mom. I can’t believe he managed to do all that and I had no idea!” Abigail sighs and pulls her hand back to marvel at the jewel around her ring finger.

You sip from your drink, the alcohol almost a welcomed friend in the full house. The atmosphere is electric from the unexpected news. The music is turned even louder than it already was. The New Year is only a few hours away and you don’t see the party dying down anytime soon.

A little quiet wouldn’t do you any harm, especially as someone keeps bumping against your back, and pushes you to give them more room.

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” Abigail pulls you to the side, somehow managing to find a corner that isn’t occupied.

“I’d love to ask you a favor.” You’ve always been impressed by her ability to make her eyes so innocently big, pleading in a way that is caring and can make even the coldest person believe whatever she says is their own idea.

Abigail lifts her hands to your forearms and squeezes with a smile that reminds you of a child you saw at your shop yesterday after he had seen the experimental chocolate and peanut cupcakes you had made. After seeing his face, you might bring them back when you have an overstock of the ingredients, just to see that same kind of enthusiasm again.

“Remember that cake you baked for my 27th birthday?” Abigail asks. She doesn’t have to remind you. It was an elaborate white chocolate vanilla cake with raspberry compote filling. You topped it with handmade chocolate decorations that you created after work, the hours stretching closer to 20 spent in your bakery that day. Your back ached and you were stressed because you wanted the cake to be perfect. It was all worth it.

You nod. “I’d love it if you could make our wedding cake. We’ll of course pay, unless…” Abigail smiles with her lips tightly shut, the apples of her cheeks glowing.

“Unless you want me to give you a wedding cake as a wedding gift?” You fill in for her, the idea cracking your smile.

“Yes! Oh my God, it would be perfect! I’d be so incredibly lucky to have your creation at our wedding. It would be so special!” She grabs at you and pulls you into a tight hug that crackles against your tight shoulder where the muscle has been burning for the past week.

“I think we could make it work.” You swallow, defeated by your inability to say no to Abigail. One wedding cake. It’ll only be one wedding cake, among the other wedding cake orders that flow in during the busiest season of people tying the knot.

“I also have one other thing in mind.” You immediately prepare mentally for whatever she’s going to ask from you next.

“At my wedding, I’d love for you to bring a plus one.” Your mind goes blank.

“What?”

“The wedding is still six months away, so you have plenty of time. I just don’t want to see you alone there!” Abigail laughs and rubs at your arms. It has been a while since you wore anything else than your comfy clothes at home or your work uniform that consists of soft cotton T-shirts all in creamy white, tucked in your jeans and under an apron. Your friend running her hands up and down against the fabric on your arms, the blouse is suddenly coarse and too hot.

“I don’t have time for dating,” you remind her.

“You never have time for dating! I think that’s not true, you’re just afraid of finding someone and falling in love. That’s okay,” Abigail’s tone is encouraging, but her words sting. She’s not wrong. Of course you’re scared, you’ve never really dated anyone. The only dates you’ve been to were either pity dates set up by your high school friends or a few failed first meetings with guys who had been your customers at the bakery and who now only visit when they have to get something special for their girlfriends and wives.

“Fear not, you’re meeting someone tonight,” your friend’s eyes glimmer mischievously.

“What?” You hiss immediately.

“Noah has a friend who’s single. We think you’ll like him a lot.” Each of Abigail’s words is emphasized by a nod of her head or a poor attempt at a wink.

“We?”

“Eileen, me and Mary of course, silly,” she whacks at your arm playfully. Her cheeks blush while your stomach is heavy with dread.

“I really don’t think it’s a great idea. Also, I don’t need a date, it’s a wedding, it’ll be fun no matter if I have a date or not.”

“Bullsh–,” Abigail shushes herself and makes sure no one heard her. Her eyes soften to the level of pity. “It’s okay for you to find someone special, we all have. You’ll love it when someone takes care of you and pampers you and you won’t have to be alone anymore. You want to get married, you want a family! You’ve said it yourself, remember?” She laughs and tilts her head.

“Yeah!” You hope she doesn’t hear the doubt in your voice.

“We’re making sure you’re not going to end up alone.”

“What do you have in mind then?” Abigail turns immediately from you and leaves you standing next to the huge Christmas tree still fully decked and deeply green. You see her long, blonde hair swinging as she makes her way through the crowd. The curls at the ends are perfect. You smile at an older couple and wish them a happy New Near under your breath as they pass you by, a suspicious look in their eye while you try to keep track of Abigail.

You don’t have to wait for long. You see her first, then a tall man in a crisp white button down shirt behind her. He eyes you up and down immediately, his eyes blue and hard. You can’t read the look he’s giving you, but it’s not pleasant. He makes you nervous.

“Here’s John,” Abigail announces with a smile, and a hand that she waves down from his shoulder to midriff. You’re cornered between Abigail, John and the Christmas tree. The man nods his head and keeps his eyes locked on you while you notice the drink in his hand, a glass too gentle to be held in a death grip like his.

“Noah always calls him Johnny,” She proudly pats him on the shoulder and pushes John closer to you. The wall bumps against your back.

“He doesn’t,” John argues. His face twists in confusion, while his words are drowned by Abigail’s enthusiasm.

“Noah always tells good stories about John, how they’ve known for years, and how reliable he is. And you’re both into…” Abigail smiles, her eyes a little empty. She looks at you and massages John’s shoulder with her bejeweled hand. The engagement ring sparkles in the soft lighting of the family home. “You’re both into business! You’re entrepreneurs! I think you might have interesting conversations in the horizon,” Abigail chirps and finishes the last note with a smile that reveals her perfectly white teeth. Something catches her attention. Her eyes get larger, and her cheeks burn bright red. Noah stands close by with some of his friends, deep in conversation.

“Oh, excuse me, I have somewhere to be,” she points somewhere towards the crowd of people and disappears into it with a wave of her hand, in the opposite direction from Noah.

You stand awkwardly next to just as awkward John. He smells like aftershave from 30 years ago. It’s not completely unpleasant, only something you can imagine he got as a regifted present on Christmas. It’s warm, a little spicy, and a little too musty. He might like it, or then he wore it to keep unpleasant people away. You sip at your drink and try to take a step back without John noticing. The wall is in your way.

“We should sit down,” he tells you. You stare at his back when he leaves you standing alone, and only turns around to check if you’re following when he has found a couch end for you both to sit on.

He sits on the sofa with his legs spread wide. His face is smug, borderline conceited, when you make space for yourself next to him. How did Abigail, Mary and Eileen ever think you’d be into this guy? You try to relax, sip on your drink and smile at John. He smiles back. Maybe he’s not as bad as you’re making him out to be in your head. You don’t know him. Maybe your friends have a valid reason to believe you two could hit it off.

John pushes his leg against yours, seeking physical contact. You pull back from him immediately and lock your inner thighs together to keep yourself as small as you can. Your jeans aren’t tight but the way you’re sitting makes them dig into your skin.

“So…” John begins and drinks from his glass.

“So…” You repeat awkwardly, waiting for his next move.

“You want to hear how much money I make? I know women like to hear that. You don’t seem like an exception.” Your smile tightens, it’s a mask. The contents of your glass would be perfect on this guy, maybe he’s even begging for it.

“Like Abigail said, I’m an entrepreneur…” he talks in a monotone voice, reading off an invisible script. You don’t really even care if the mask on your face slips, not when John drones on and on about his savings, his investments and how he wants a stay-at-home wife to take care of the kids and home  while he’s working.

“My business will become massive in the next ten years. Yes, I plan ten years in advance. I recommend it to everyone who…” you drown John’s voice into the different voices around you. He’s like the perfect candidate for people watching.

Abigail and Noah’s parents are standing in one corner of the room, with lighthearted looks on their faces. Noah’s brother is leaning against a wall, looking bored as ever as he snacks on something from the snack table. Mary and Eileen are swaying to the music, pointing out different people from the party goers.

Abigail is with a man who you don’t know. She has her hand on his bicep, then she lifts it to his shoulder. Up and down she moves it, while trying to step closer to him. The man in a dark blue button up, his hair combed to the back with a few fly aways sticking out on his temple, a well-groomed mustache moves over his top lip, knows when to take a step back and shake her hand off him without seeming rude. Is she drunk? Abigail straightens the man’s collar. Her hand lingers on it, her fingertips touch his neck before she pulls her hand back.  

You’ve seen the man before. You’ve caught him staring at the pastries and bread in the bakery window a few times but he hasn’t come in.

“… You do for work?” The question is already fading. John’s tone is cool, almost as uninterested as you are. The distant look in his eyes isn’t helping to get you more invested in his monologue.

“I have my own business.” You answer, even to you in a too formal tone.

“Oh, what kind?” John leans forward, a spark of interest on his face.

“I have a bakery downtown.”

“Ah.” John scratches the back of his neck and shakes his head. “That’s a risky business endeavor. Have you thought about something else when this one bites the dust?”

You grind your teeth together behind the smile that you try to keep even remotely kind looking. You have to get out of here. You spot Abigail mingling with the guests, now with Mary and Eileen, who all turn towards you. Abigail draws a heart in the air with her index fingers and points to John. Miserably you turn back to him, who is still talking about different options for you.

“You could sell your business, cut your losses before they’re too overwhelming for you to handle.” Mary’s thumbs up don’t cover the murderous snarl you give them, your mouth twisted when you shake your head “no”. They’re back on the move, finding a quieter spot while laughing. You can hear it over the steady buzzing of conversations.

John has moved on from your imaginary bankruptcy to talking about his newest investments.

“Who handles them for you”

“Hmm?”

“Your investments, who handles them for you?”

“I haven’t really looked into it.” The bottom off your glass stares back at you, the rest of the alcohol now going down your throat.

“You should! Having a fickle business like yours isn’t going to keep you afloat for too long. Especially in a place like this. I could give you some recommendations on how to maximize your profits.” Your skin crawls. How satisfying it would be to yell at this man to shut the fuck up.

You don’t. You see the people around you, your customers. They have their usual orders, some have something else on a specific day, and some stick to the same baked goods day after day. You know them by name. You remember the stories they’ve told you, how something you made was shared with a loved one and new memories were made. John doesn’t seem like a person who would understand the value of memories since they’re not monetary.

Your friends clearly don’t have any idea what kind of a man you’d want to be with. To be fair, neither do you. But John? Setting you up with someone who is as interesting as the worn-out, uncared-for leather of his shoes, at least you can say who isn’t your type.

Sitting next to him, his knee still bumping against you, making your skin itch, even when you try to keep distance to him, listening to him ramble on about investing and profits, your friends would be bored out of their minds in your place as well.  Maybe they haven’t spoken with John. Maybe they haven’t even met him before. Your fingers find your gold chain against your chest. Its dainty links run between your thumb and forefinger, the familiar trail soothing you.

“If you’re free tomorrow, I could give you some tips on finding–“

“Look, John,” you cut him off with the drop of your necklace back against your skin. “You’re… clearly knowledgeable about money, and someone might be very interested in hearing about all of this. But that’s not me.”

“What are you saying then?” He’s genuinely surprised.

“I don’t think we should explore anything further.” You let him down gently and give him an apologetic look.

“Okay,” he tilts his head with deep creases across his forehead. “I’m a bit surprised. There’s not many, if any, people paying any attention on you here. I’m a catch looking for someone to carry his children who will become the next president or congressman some day and you’re just a bakery keeper who clearly has let herself go. But whatever, I’ll respect your honesty.” He says it all with a smile on his face, the insult somehow meant to sound like a compliment. His brows rise and fall after every other word, like they’re part of the conversation too. You stare at him, your mind blank, your mouth with a life of its own.

“What a small man,” you say to him and stand up with a laugh. He says something more, but you don’t stay to listen. There’s nothing more you’d want in this moment than get away from this man and to refill your glass with the punch served here.

It splashes against the edges of your glass when you make your way to the balcony. You want to hide from the people inside the party. From John. He can think whatever he wants, you’re not fazed by his rudeness, by anyone’s rudeness for that matter. It doesn’t mean what he said didn’t hurt you.

The dusky balcony is the place to be, away from the golden lights, the music and people who apparently don’t even see you. An unreasonable fear rises from the back of your mind with an image of John chasing after you onto the balcony, telling you how great he is and how generous he is for even agreeing on a blind date with you. You’d need to understand how this night wouldn’t change his life, but it would still change yours.

There’s a lonely chair behind the corner, away from direct eyeline of the celebrations. There’s barely any light here, only a small lantern next to a flower arrangement on a small table next to the chair. You sit down and relax. The drink feels good, comforting, on your over stimulated nerves. Muffled music and people talking, laughing, puts a rift between you and whatever is happening inside.

There haven’t been many moments when you are truly alone and when you are, you usually invite it with open arms. What follows that alone time is usually a guest you rarely want to invite along. Being alone is almost easy, being lonely always chips away at your heart. At the belief that maybe there’s someone out there somewhere for you as well.

You’ve accomplished so much in the last few years. You can be proud of so many things you’ve made happen by yourself. At the same time, you have to admit that it has all happened because you’ve been ready to sacrifice something.

You go with the flow, but you’re looking in at your own life rather than living it. You’re waiting for something without knowing what that could be. Apathy follows the gentle buzz of the alcohol in your system. You breathe deep against the coolness of the night. At least your skin isn’t pouring sweat while wondering which turn you forgot to take at some point in life to find a missing, nameless puzzle piece.

A clink and a soft scratch of glass. You’re ready to tell John to leave you alone. Instead, your eyes meet the deepest of ambers, sitting on the other side of the little table next to you where the lantern and flowers have been arranged. Someone laughs inside in a way that reminds you of a breathless donkey.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry,” he says while pushing his glass further from the edge of the table, his voice deep, soft like a cloud.

“I didn’t know someone was here.” You’re ready to stand up, find another hiding place and leave this man alone.

“I should’ve said something.” You nod at his words, unsure of what to do. Maybe he wants to be left alone…

“You know the couple?” He asks, cutting your plans to leave short.  

“I’m friends with Abigail.” He smiles, acknowledges your words and presses his hand against his chest.

“I’m one of the groomsmen.” You smile a tentative smile back and hear the conversation between you two die down.

Even when you’re not talking, you find yourself glued to your seat. His presence is overwhelming. It draws you in, makes you nervous with curiosity. He’s looking out into the vast darkness facing the farmhouse, forcing the building to become a lighthouse in the quiet. Your left side, his side, is vibrating from his nearness. The little hairs on your arm stand up, reaching for him. There’s electricity in the air, zinging gently, a hum in your ear as you listen to it. Listen to him take a deep breath in and push it out with slow force.

He's the one Abigail spoke with earlier. The one with the mustache and dark blue button up. The one who you’ve seen stop in front of your bakery but never come in. The town gossip train would help you recognize who he is, but you’ve tuned that station off.

You hear about some things regardless, while some other things aren’t for your ears, you’ve decided. Maybe that decision would be different if you had grown up in a small town like this, your life filled with people knowing what is happening in other people’s lives.

“Do you mind?” His question is hushed. There’s a cigarette between his fingers, and a question in the quirk of his brow. You shake your head and watch him pull out a lighter. It flickers a golden glow against his face when he has the cigarette hanging between his lips. The embers light up and then go to rest when he takes a drag, the smoke in his lungs until he breathes it out slowly. The cloud hangs in the air and drifts towards you. You inhale the rich aroma mixed with burning sweetness.

“I’m quitting in the New Year,” he tilts his head towards you, his eyes like black embers fixated on you through his lashes, in the lowlight of the candle and whatever light streams from the window.

“And this is your last one?” Your voice tunes itself to the quiet smokiness of his tone without you trying.

“Last, or second to last, I haven’t decided yet.” He rolls the butt against his fingers and flicks it. The burning flecks distinguish in the air. There’s loud cheering inside, rattling against the calm atmosphere outside.

The man looks inside, his focus on the noise as well. “Why aren’t you with them?”

“Abigail had set me up with Noah’s godawful friend, I had to take a break. Apparently, I need a plus one for the wedding.”

“With who?” Another drag from the cigarette.

“John?” He nods at your answer, and blows out the smoke to the opposite direction from you.

“They’re not close, not really even friends,” the man muses and turns his eyes on you.

Like an electric shock, you have to turn away from him and stare out towards the dark. This man is intense, demanding in a gentle way, his attention on you and only you. He’s not filling a silence with useless noise, but with observing. You run your necklace between your fingers again, twist it around one and draw a line against your skin over and over.

“I think she just wanted me to find someone.” Wish that someone wasn’t a self-important dickhead.

“The wedding isn’t in months.”

“My friends know I need time to think, and to take it slow.” The man inhales from his cigarette again and raises his brows in what could only mean silent disbelief.

“What?”

“Just wondering why Abigail wanted to set you up with an asshole like John, everyone knows he’s a player.” His words pour on you like ice. The more you repeat the last part in your head, the more convinced you are it wasn’t a serious setup, but a foolish prank.

Maybe listening to the grapevine would’ve been a good thing at least once. You take a big sip of your drink and let it burn in your throat as you swallow it down slowly.

There’s more cheering and clapping coming from inside, pulling you to look in at the party as well. Abigail is standing in front of the guests, Mary and Eileen next to her. Abigail has a pouch in her hand, where Eileen is digging something from.

“And why aren’t you apart of that?” The man’s low voice rumbles slowly against your eardrums.

Mary and Eileen open something in their hands, small pieces of paper, and show them to the other guests. People, mostly women, erupt into gleeful joy. Bridesmaid and maid of honor. “I don’t know.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Why aren’t you in there celebrating?” You turn the question to him with a determined smile tugging against your cheeks. You should’ve known you won’t be part of the wedding party, it shouldn’t be a surprise. It shouldn’t hurt. You cover it with the smile and hope it will ease the sting.

The man notices your attempt at directing the focus away from yourself. He takes one last drag and then stubs the cigarette against an ashtray on the floor. He blows the smoke from his lungs and manages to turn more towards you.

He spreads his legs in the rickety garden chair, but his point isn’t to establish dominance like John, but to slide down and relax in the too small chair in his snuggly fitting dark jeans.

“I had to take a break,” he repeats your answer back to you. From his mouth it’s vague, words that hold some other meaning that he’s debating sharing with you. “Abigail is busy playing matchmaker in there.” He tilts his head to lean his temple against his fingers, his elbow perfectly perched on the arm of the chair.

Him facing you, his chin lifted, the amber of his eyes flickering in the candlelight, draws heat to the surface of your skin. Your chest, the back of your neck, your cheeks. It’s annoying that this stranger can cause a reaction like it.

You want to defy it and push back. You face him as well, stare him right in the eyes. Lava splashes on you from your head to your toes. Your palms sweat and you swallow, still with a calm smile on your face. It has become your safety blanket that you can hide behind. No matter if it’s a true kindness or you’re killing someone with it, the smile is familiar to you now.

“She found someone for you as well?”

“She suggested it, but I turned her down.”

“And that’s why you had to take a break?”

“No, it was because of the other guests.” He looks away. A small victory you didn’t think you’d get. His answer stirs the win into confusion.

“Why?” A question you have no right to ask, out of your mouth before you even consider asking it.

He lifts his eyes back to you, the look in them warm but laced with a warning. It’s not your place to know. It’s a question too complicated in its simplicity, the answer even simpler, yet more complicated.

Two can play this game. Who hides better behind a mask? Who stays calm when someone tries to crawl under the other’s skin? He’s a master at it, catching you off guard, letting you think you had won him in the game he has perfected over the years.

You’re knocked off the number one spot and he figures it out immediately, when your smile cracks and you have to hide behind the excuse of taking a sip from your glass. There’s only a little left, one more mouthful and you’re done. You don’t want to see his victory, but you also don’t want to seem scared.

The look on his face isn’t victory. Instead, you’re met with a man who is deep in thought. His brows are lightly pulled together, defining the two small lines between them. His eyes are veiled, only a slight shine from the candle still reaching them. Yes, he won.

“Well, I think it’s my time to go.” He snaps out of his thoughts. The watch on his wrist flashes with the reflection of light hitting the glass face.

“It’s not even midnight yet.” He sounds almost alarmed.

You circle the drink in your glass a couple of times and see his glass on the table. You stand up, lean over the table and smile more to the empty glass than to him. “Happy New Year,” you say out loud and clink your glasses together. The sweet and sour taste is soothing and if you were alone, you probably would drink a few more to ring in the special evening.

“I’ll see you around,” you tell the man who follows your every move. He watches your hand as you place your glass next to his. He watches you wipe at the backside of your jeans to make sure there’s no dust on them from the chair. His eyes are burning against your back as you leave him sitting on the old, weathered chair.

Someone opens the door to the balcony and sticks their head out. Noah.

“Hey, have you seen Javi?” his voice is a little hoarse, joy on the corners of his eyes.

“Who?”

“Javier, dark shirt, jeans, brown hair…” the man’s presence appears on your back, lifting all the hairs of your skin again, heat coursing through you.

“I’m here,” his voice is like the stickiest and sweetest honey. It’s also much closer than you anticipated. You look over your shoulder. Javier is right behind you, his chest almost against your back. Noah’s face lights up, clearly pleased he found his friend.

“Is Abigail somewhere? I’m going to be heading out, I just want to congratulate her once more.” Javier stands still and manages to shake your voice only by being close to you.

“But it’s not even midnight yet, you should stay a bit longer,” Noah pleads, a relaxed slurring in his speech.

“I think I’m done for the night, just too tired to keep on partying. Thank you for inviting me and congratulations once more.” You hug Noah, genuinely happy for him. His tan skin glows with pure excitement.

“Can you believe her, leaving before midnight on New Year’s Eve.” Noah points his thumb at you, the jokey question directed at Javier.

“I know, almost like tonight doesn’t change anything.” His sarcasm makes you snort, and Noah fake a laugh.

“Abi is downstairs. Thanks for coming, and thank you for the gift,” he winks at you, the promised wedding cake now apparently confirmed.

Abigail entertains some older people, talking with them, sharing moments from how she met Noah and how he proposed. You barely get a word in and her answer to you leaving is: “Okay, I’ll call you.” before she’s back to talking with the people who have made her their center of attention.

Luckily Mrs. Sánchez is on her way out with her husband, taking you to town. You have one neighbor, living in the apartment on the other side of the corridor from you on top of the carpenter shop. You’ve met him plenty of times since you moved in six years ago, but you can’t for the life of you remember his name.

You’re already sleeping, groggy and confused when you hear your neighbor counting down from 10 with his guests, the cheering overwhelming even through your wall. Auld Lang Syne starts to play, and you lay in bed, staring at the blank surface of your ceiling. Not even the streetlights can light your apartment enough.

Maybe this year you’ll push yourself to enjoy your life rather than watch it pass you by. You make the resolution before you fall back asleep, barely remembering it the next morning.

Time ticks on even after midnight and the days after don’t create a limbo effect anymore when you go to work. It’s darkest when you wake up at 3.15 and head to the bakery thirty minutes later. The morning rises as you’re tipping proofed loafs from their baskets onto the floured wooden table for scoring. You’re trying a new leaf design, lashing the surface with a sharp blade that glides against the dough like butter.

When you’ve pushed the loaves into the oven you take the next trolley of bread from the walk-in fridge and under the zippered hoods you uncover what you made yesterday in preparation for today, buttery wheat loaves in their neat little rectangle pans. One trolley after the other you solve the walk-in fridge puzzle, pulling out hooded trolleys. Yellow hoods for sweet products, blue for savory.

“Morning!” Lili, your bakery assistant, greets as she walks in from the small locker room. Unlike you, who stayed up too late writing down ideas for Abigail and Noah’s wedding cake, her under eyes are bright and her voice clear after a well-rested night.

“Good morning,” you croak and clear your throat right after. Your shoulder complains as you fill in the vanilla tartlets, row after row of neat custardy pies waiting for a couple of slices of syrupy lemons Lili has prepared for them.

As the shop fills with the fresh loaves, rolls and biscuits, the last sweet things are baking in the ovens, filling the bakery and shop with a sugary, toasty smell. Butter, nuts, fruits, spices and chocolate, are like a dessert after the early morning savory baking.

You’re filling cream puffs when the doors open and the first customer walks in. You have the bakery door open but can’t see the shop from your sturdy work table. You can only listen to the sounds that indicate your work paying off.

The bell above the door tinkles constantly, people walking in and out with fresh goods in paper bags and bakery carton boxes, careful not to shake or mush anything that is even a little more fragile than the thick crusted breads.

Lili’s enthusiastic voice answers questions with a constant smile. “Yes, these have a hazelnut and chocolate filling.” “There is ginger and clove in the cookie dough.” “It’s the freshest today, but you can use the rest for bread pudding or French toast in the next few days.” “Sadly, that was our December limited edition cupcake, but we’re planning something for Easter.”

If she’s not answering questions, then she’s taking down orders and repeating every detail to get everything right. The free spots in your calendar for orders are filling out fast. You’re counting each one in your head after Lili repeats them, checking off the orders list you remember by heart. Someone asks for a wedding cake order for July, one already taken by Abigail and Noah.

“Mr. Peña is here,” Lili sticks her head into the bakery, pulling you from weighing ingredients for sticky cinnamon rolls. It’s eleven in the morning, you’re about thirty minutes early from your work schedule. The radio in the corner plays an older song softly, the words flowing from your mouth in a quiet hum. You wash your hands and check your face, wiping the remaining moisture from your temples as the ovens are finally cooling down. You take the small bakery box full of pistachio cream puffs from the fridge and take it to the register.

Seeing the shop full is always overwhelming, almost intimidating, especially when most look at you as they see you walking out of the bakery.

“Morning everyone,” you greet with easiness, the words wiping away your nerves. Mr. Peña is third in line, standing with someone who is looking at the small packets of chocolate confections that were leftover from your New Year’s specials.

You take one of the raisin and cashew loafs from the shelf and push it into a brown paper bag, and wheat knot rolls into another bag.

“Mr. Peña, what can I get for you?” Lili asks, her voice a little higher and squeakier than normal.

“Those ham and cheese muffins are looking fine today,” his voice rumbles. You smile to yourself as you pack a few lemon and poppyseed cookies into a box.

“¿Quieres algo dulce?” He asks his companion just as you turn with all the baked goods in your arms. You lay them on the table next to the register, Lili taping the muffin box closed and getting to work typing the prices as zero dollars.

“What’s this?” Mr. Peña asks under his brown, wide brimmed cowboy hat.

“You gave me the tip about Arnold’s shop, and he came to fix the oven right before New Year’s. It’s as good as new now. He also checked the other one, to see if it has the same problem with the wiring. This is the least I can give you as a thank you.” If you had ordered someone to come in from further, you would’ve paid a pretty penny for a simple fix that was done in fifteen minutes. You couldn’t be more grateful for Mr. Peña suggesting someone who he trusts.

“That was nothing, Sam is an old friend, he would miss his own funeral just to fix appliances,” he laughs and gives room for his companion to step next to him. Javier’s eyes bore into yours, a soft smile in them. He lays the little confection box on the table next to the breads and sweets.

“This is my son, Javier.” He pushes his aviator sunglasses into the neckline of his pink button up t-shirt.

“We met at Noah’s party a few days ago,” Javier says, making you nod along with his words.

“Oh! Well, then you need to know this little lady makes the best cream puffs in town,” Mr. Peña directs his attention to you. The smile lines get deep right by his eyes when the corners of his mouth turn up.

Javier hums in recognition, patiently watching you try to gather your thoughts. The two men look the same as they stand next to each other, the generation the only thing setting them apart. Javier seems to tower over his dad, his back straight and his shoulders wider with age pressing them forward for his dad.

“That’s a bit over exaggerated isn’t it, since there’s no other bakeries in town,” you turn the compliment into a joke, and your focus back to Javier’s dad to get yourself to calm down. Javier’s presence makes perspiration prickle at the small of your back.

“That’s why I said the best in town,” Mr. Peña jokes back.

“Exactly!” The shared laugh eases your discomfort. Why Javier makes you nervous, you haven’t decided yet.

“So, how much do I have to pay for these?”

“Nothing. Like I said, it’s the least I can do to thank you.”

“No, of course I pay, this is too much.”

“Mr. Peña, you helped me when you didn’t have to. These are on the house.” The people behind Javier and his dad are starting to get curious about what you’re giving away for free.

“Please, call me Chucho, I come here often enough for us to be in first name basis. And I already know your name, have known it longer than you’ve known there is a ‘Mister Peña’,” he tries to mimic your voice but only makes it sound like a mockery of you. He mumbles “sorry,” under his breath, all forgiven with a smile you give him back.

“What about these?” Lili asks with a quieter voice, the confections in her hand.

“I’ll pay for those,”

“And that’s Javier, you can call him by his first name as well.” His dad says pointedly. In a way he reminds you of your grandpa and how warmly he too always spoke even when to teach you about something more serious, like how to ask nicely, or when you needed help with your homework, and he checked where you had gone wrong.  

“Chucho,” you nod your head towards him, “Javier,” you say his name and it tickles against your tongue. The other side of his mouth rises.

“Javier will pay for the candy, and I want a couple of those lemon things over there,” Chucho points in the display. The vanilla tartlets you worked on just a couple of hours earlier.

“Yo los pago, papá,” Javier mutters when you pick up a carton and fold it into a box, placing two tartlets into it. Lili is already ringing him up when you place the box next to her.

“Have you changed the products?” Chucho asks, looking at the display more carefully.

“There are a couple new things, like these blueberry swirl cupcakes and these hazelnut cookies.” You point them out for him and notice Javier checking out the items as well. “Don’t worry, I’m not taking out the favorites,” you nod towards the pistachio cream puffs that have become Chucho’s regular order. He winks at you, like a secret has been exchanged between you two. Lili packs all the goods into a paper bag and hands it over to Javier.

“Thank you,” Chucho tips his hat and drops money into the tip jar.

“Thank you,” Lili yells after checking how much he gave. You greet the next customers while leaving to go back to work, watching the pair as they walk out the door and to Chucho’s truck.

As the day goes on, the bell above the door tinkles less. The noises from people talking quiets down and Lili’s answers and order taking slows until there’s no more questions or orders to be made.

“Only a couple of cupcakes, cookies, and rolls left,” she informs as she joins you to help with dough mixing and making products for the next day. You work like a well-oiled machine that has been in use for a hundred years. You turn the radio a little louder and the both of you sing along to songs that you both know either from your childhoods or ones that have been playing nonstop since they came out in the last year.

“Can you make the puff pastry, I’ll make inventory and clean up the front.” You massage your shoulder, the pain burning under your shoulder blade.

The day is warm, warmer than usual, people wearing shorter sleeved shirts as they pass the shop. The air is humid, yet still dust settles on surfaces. You write in your notebook all the products sold, keeping note of the ones that have leftovers, before packing them in discount packets to get them sold before closing.

The industrial dishwasher rumbles on the other side of the wall as you’re wiping down the display cases. The door opens and the bell jingles, followed by footsteps that stop at the door. You look over your shoulder, the pink shirt on Javier like an alarm for your system.

“Hi,” you straighten your back and finish cleaning the glass.

“I hope I’m not interrupting?” He takes his sunglasses off and hangs them off his shirt again.

“No, no, we’re still open. Did you forget something? Or maybe Mr. Peña wanted something more? I’m sorry we sold out everything you got, tomorrow I’ll be selling more again.” Javier breathes out a silent laugh listening to you ramble nervously, his eyes landing on the empty shelves.

“I’m sure he’d buy more if there was some left, and you can call him Chucho.” You bend your head down when his eyes meet yours. “That’s not why I’m here for.” He walks over to the register with you on the other side. He places his hand on the table, curiously taking in the empty shop.

“What can I get for you then?”

“Have you had any luck finding a date for the wedding?”

“Oh,” his question surprises you. “I haven’t even thought about that. I can guarantee it’s not going to be John. Why?” He nods, watching your lips as they move around the words. He presses his hand into a fist, opening his mouth once, then closing it, contemplating whatever he has on his mind.

“I was wondering…” He stops, his lashes dark against the tops of his cheeks as he has trouble looking at you in the eye. Until he does and forces you to swallow against the sandpaper in your mouth.

“Noah said something… And I remembered what you said about Abigail wanting you to have a date… Being single at a wedding can be…” The broken sentences raise your pulse. “What if we’d go to the wedding together?” Your pulse pauses for a second until it picks up like a storm.

“You make it sound like someone’s going to pair you up with someone more awful unless you do something about it first?” You’re surprised how even your voice sounds even though pins and needles run up and down your skin and your insides are in a turmoil.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it to come off that way.” Javier shakes his head fast, his eyes flashing to you in fear that you’d understand him wrong. “My old man has been eager to know if he needs to know a name before the wedding. It’s a hassle if I won’t deal with that in time.” He almost manages to calm the tempest. You join his chuckling, imagining Chucho pressing his son about finding a plus one for a wedding where his friends are already paired off.

“Look,” you begin, forcing yourself to calm down and think clearly. “It’s a nice offer, but I’m not looking for anything, I don’t have time for it. Abigail setting me up at the party was weird and I’m not concerned about finding a date. I honestly don’t care what people say or think. She just wants me to have someone and not end up alone when she’s busy having brunches and dinners with her married friends.” Javier’s eyes narrow the longer you speak, your last words like icing on a cake for someone who observes as closely as Javier does. You realize how you make yourself sound pathetic and Abigail like an asshole immediately after.

“I’m not looking for anything either, I was thinking it more as an arrangement of sorts.”

“An arrangement?”

“Yeah. I have a lot of groomsmen, ah…” he looks for the words, “whatever wedding things coming up and I know I’ll be put between a rock and a hard place unless I have a date. We could go together, avoid the awkward blind dates and we’d let people know we’re each other’s dates.” What he means with him being between two undesirable options confuses you, but the possibility of Abigail setting you up with someone like John again is high enough for you to get interested in Javier’s suggestion.

“So, you mean we’d fake dating each other?”

He’s unblinking for a moment, until he inhales and pushes the breath out with a “I guess so.”

“Sounds like you’ve read too many romance books.” The lighthearted joke makes him laugh. “Don’t you think it’d be awkward?”

“If we’re okay with it, no, I don’t think so. We could get to know the basics of each other and that would be it. You don’t have to spend your time with me any more than you have to.” He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and places it on the table. “Think about it.” He pushes the paper towards you. You take it, and it’s still warm. He has written his number on it neatly, Javier with a swoopy J on top.

A couple walks in. The bell startles you both. Javier steps back and takes his sunglasses from his shirt.

“Let me know, okay?” He raises his brows in question, and you answer with a nod. The couple beelines for the leftovers, talking in hushed tones, while the bell dings and Javier leaves without a second look back.

“I knew we should’ve come sooner,” the woman hisses and huffs.

“We’re open tomorrow, if you’re looking for something specific,” you try to get back into the moment, but end up following Javier push his sunglasses up his nose and jog across the street to his truck before a car crawls past.

Never would you have thought a piece of paper could be heavy but here you are, aware of its existence in your jeans pocket under your apron. The offer is appealing, you can’t deny that. The thought of having someone steady by your side, people not asking if you have a date, mainly Abigail, and not needing to think about the whole date thing, would be a weight off your shoulders. You could focus on the more pressing matters.

The couple buys the bread rolls, one more tick for you to write into your notebook. You finish preparing everything with Lili and when you turn the lights off a the end of the day, your brain is fried from thinking what to do with Javier’s suggestion.

The hot shower at home is heaven against your shoulder, loosening the tense muscle. It doesn’t wash away Javier’s suggestion though. You dry yourself, and you wouldn’t have to think about a plus one anymore. You warm up leftovers from yesterday, and you wonder how you could relax around Javier who has the ability to get your thoughts and blood roiling. You sit on the couch and get hurt once more thinking about John and if it was all a joke for Abigail to set you up with him.

You dig the pockets of your jeans and find the paper, still folded in half, his handwriting against your fingertips.

“Peña,” you hear Chucho answer. His joyful laughter after you say who’s calling makes you smile as well.

“Don’t say you’re giving us more bread and pastries. I’ll pay for them the next time.” There’s rustling on his end before you have a chance to answer, Javier’s voice muttering something to his dad.

“Hello,” his voice is softer, less deep as his father’s yet still deep enough for you to have it rattle your spine.

“Hi.”

“Sorry, I got a new number a couple of weeks ago and I’m not used to using it yet, gave you the house number by accident.” If you knew him any better, you’d say Javier is nervous.

“That’s okay. I wanted to call and ask if you’re really up for it, fake dating?” he chuckles quietly, almost like he wouldn’t want to make his dad question why you’re calling his son in the evening.

“I’d still call it just an arrangement, but yeah. That’s why I asked you.” You grind your teeth together, nervous about what you’re getting yourself into.

“Okay, let’s do it then.”

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Naive

Jensen Ackles Masterlist

Summary: It’s your first acting role. So, of course you make mistakes. Of course, you’re stressed and freeze when it’s time to do the sexy scene. It’s not your fault if biting your fingers and playing with your hair are your methods of stress relief. No matter what you do, the director always seem upset with you. You have no idea why until he asks you to meet on set way after shooting for a… private lesson.

Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7131

Warning: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, grinding, sexual tension, unprofessional relationship, naive!reader, dom!Jensen, director!Jensen, semi public sex

Squares: Jensen Ackles for @anyfandomkinkbingo / Shyness/innocence for @j3bingo / New Job for @anyfandomfluffbingo / Grinding for @spnkinkevents

A/n: Hello hello! So this fic is born from the pic below (the one on the left) and a conversation I had with @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior! Thank you for sharing ideas with me and for being the beta to this fic!! Header made by me with pics from instagram and from the EW!

Don’t forget to leave a feedback! It’s what makes writer want to keep writing!

“Cut!”

In the room, a common sigh of frustration echoed. The little red light disappeared on the cameras as the people behind them stopped recording. Everyone on set, including the actors and the staff, stopped working and stared at the reason why they were interrupted again.

Not totally understanding what was happening and why everyone was looking at you, with rather annoyed expressions, you turned your attention to the director that just called for the cut. 

“Why are we stopping?” Playing nervously with a lock of hair, you left your mark and walked towards the blinding lights of the spots that were pointed at you. Most of the crew, including him, were sitting behind them. You just wanted to see his expression, just wanted to make sure the cut wasn’t because of you, just wanted to be sure-

“Don’t move from your mark. How many times do I have to say this?” The director hissed between his teeth. 

Freezing completely, you finally understood why the scene had been cut and that it had indeed been your fault. You walked back to your spot, quiet apologies falling from your lips and your head bent, feeling tears burn your eyes. It was your fault, again. 

“Alright. Y/n. We talked about this. We even changed the dialogue so it’s easier for you. So why are you still messing it up?” Your director asked, frustration evident.

“I-” You started, but luckily, you didn’t have to defend your case. Your co-star, Jacob, stepped forward, abandoning his mark as well. The director didn’t scold him for that though. 

“I don’t understand why we stopped again, the scene was going nicely,” he said, and you looked at him with teary eyes.

“First of all, I didn’t ask for your opinion.” The director responded.

You could just make out some movement in front of you, but you couldn’t really see anything because of the blinding spotlights. But in the end, you didn’t have to strain to see him, because your director walked up to where you were standing. The lights were now behind him, throwing him into silhouette. You blinked a couple of times, and squinted slightly to try and see him clearly. It wasn’t easy, but you finally managed…and immediately regretted it.

Not only was he scary, but he…somehow that scariness was also remarkably hot. You didn’t want to make him angry, but when he was…wow! Which made things so much more complicated and messed up.

“It’s her first role,” your co-star continued in your defense. But one glance from the director and his mouth was shut. “Sorry mister Ackles.” He demurred, and then, your would-be savior was back on his mark, leaving you alone in front of the director, Jensen Ackles.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, now biting your finger. It was all you could do - apologize for messing up all the time.

“Being sorry is not enough,” he walked even closer to where you were, and since you didn’t want to move from your mark, and make him angrier, he was quickly crowded into your personal space. His scent filled your senses and you felt yourself go weak, especially in the knees. You chewed on your finger harder. 

“You have talent, Y/n, but you are not focused,” he tapped your forehead which made you wince and blink. When you opened your eyes again, it was to plunge them into his gaze, and you regretted looking him in the eyes. In the darkness, his eyes looked almost black, even though you knew they were really the most gorgeous shade of green. 

“Don’t make me regret hiring you.”

It wasn’t really a threat, it was more of an effort to push you in the right direction. After all the scenes you’d already filmed, Jensen couldn’t fire you. It would cost too much to replace you at this point. You knew that, but still, hearing the words from him, the man you looked up to, the man you thought was so talented, so beautiful and so intimidating…well, it hurt. 

Feeling your eyes fill with tears again, you bent your head and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Alright. Now, we’ll do it once more. I want to feel desire between you and Jacob. You are his mistress, you missed him and you don’t have a lot of time with him before his wife gets back. It has to be passionate, rushed, you don’t have time to waste talking about the situation. I want to feel how much you need him.” 

You nodded again, trying hard to focus back to the scene, but then your gaze caught something. Still looking down, you had a good view on Jensen’s lower body. And next to his clenched fists, you were sure there was a bump forming in his jeans, a rather noticeable bulge stretching out the denim in his crotch.

You immediately looked away, afraid he would realize that you saw it, but then you were left staring at his hands again. You could see the veins that were protruding up his arms to his elbows where he had rolled up his sleeves, and they were hypnotizing. 

“Let’s roll.”

There was a very good reason why you were having so much trouble with the scene. And a big part of that reason was the director was making you incredibly horny, so that all you kept thinking about was him watching you make out with your co-star. 

You fumbled the scene again.

“Cut!”

Long sighs and even grunts echoed this time.

“That’s it. We’re taking a break.” Jensen’s voice was so rough, it sent shivers down your spine. This time, you knew it was your fault. You’d managed to kiss Jacob like you were meant to, with a burning passion. But then, when it was time to undress yourself…you froze.

You knew it was ridiculous, you weren’t really going to be naked. There were special items you were wearing for the sex scene. Nothing would be on display, your breasts were covered and you were keeping your underwear on. But the simple act of removing your shirt while he was watching was just too much; you couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry,” you rushed to say, but Jensen was already gone.

You sighed deeply, wishing you could explain to him. There was also a very good reason why you were so shy and uncomfortable with intimate scenes. 

You’d dated someone before. Once. One boyfriend in your whole life. You weren’t a virgin, but your only experience of sex had been disastrous and awful. Your boyfriend had managed to make you feel so bad during your time together, so ugly and repulsive that you’d never again shown desire or interest for another man out of fear of feeling that pain again. 

And, it seemed, even if it was all fake for a movie, it was still very hard to get past. But you couldn’t tell your director all of that; it was too hard to say it out loud. 

When he chose to direct the movie, Jensen wanted to make sure he had the perfect lead actress for it. The auditions took way more time than they’d planned; he had looked and looked, calling back the women he thought weren’t too bad and might work, but none of them were right, and soon there was no one left to audition. 

That was when he saw you.

You weren’t even auditioning for the role; you weren’t even an actress! You were working behind the cameras, in the sound department, to be precise. Your job was to make sure the mics and mic packs were working. You had to get to the studio ahead of the others and set up the rooms before the auditions. You tested the speakers and the mics, to be sure everything was working properly, before connecting everything into your console so you could properly record the screen tests. 

One day Jensen was early and he got a glimpse of you working, and out of nowhere, walked over to you and gave you a script. 

“Try it.” He said simply, with a soft smile.

You thought it was a joke, so you played along and read the script. You knew who Jensen Ackles was, of course, you were quite the fan. So part of you also wanted to impress him, and well…the motivation to impress must have worked, because the next thing you knew, you were cast in the leading role.

Your first role. You were completely new to the acting industry. And your new job was way more stressful than you could have imagined when you accepted it excitedly.

When you met him, Jensen was a nice guy. Patient. Encouraging. But as the spicier scenes arrived, something changed. They stressed you out, you felt like he was watching your every move, and you didn’t know if you wanted to cry, hide, run away from him or literally just grab hold of him and start making out with him. 

Of course he was disappointed. He spent so much time, money and energy on you, and now you were messing everything up.

And you couldn’t even look him in the eye to say sorry.

After the break, Jensen came back and sat back in his director’s chair. He was wearing a baseball hat now, and it shaded his eyes, making his features look even more dominant. Another shiver ran over your whole body as you pictured him in the love scene instead of Jacob. There was nothing wrong with Jacob, he was cute. But you wondered…if you pictured Jensen with you in the scene when the cameras were rolling, would that make things easier, smoother? 

It was worth a try. 

You were back on your mark before he even had the time to call the scene. You were more than ready to show him it had been a good idea to hire you. You glanced in his direction, waiting for him to say action.

“We’re skipping this scene, it doesn’t work at all.” Jensen said brusquely.

You felt a sharp pain in your gut and immediately started chewing on your bottom lip. Of course. Because of you, he now had to change the whole scene. 

“Let’s go to act 2, scene 4.”

Filming went okay for the rest of the day. You messed up a couple of other takes and had to redo it, but luckily, your fellow cast members were kind and patient. Still, you couldn’t get Jensen’s sharp voice, telling you to stop messing up the scenes, out of your head. Even now that you were in your trailer, long after shooting was over, you could still hear it echo. 

Filming had lasted until the sun was down, and then you did a few night shoot scenes, and work was over.

Laying down on the bed in your trailer, you chewed absently on your lollipop as you read the script over and over again. By now, you knew it all by heart. All you had to do was to feel it, show it, like it was real. Closing your eyes, you imagined your co-star in front of you. You reached out a hand, like he was really with you, and slowly stroked his cheek. 

“She can’t know you’re here.”

Your thumb caresses lower on his face until it reaches his lips. There, you look, stare, want more, so you slip your thumb through his parted lips.

“She won’t if we’re quick,” you whisper, your face getting closer. It’s warm, his breath on your face, and a small smile stretches your lips. 

You can see Jacob’s brown eyes and curly hair in front of you. You blink, your thumb leaves his mouth to be replaced by your lips. There, the kiss starts slowly, like you want to explore his mouth, get familiar with its shape, tastes and feel.

But quickly, his hands get lost on your body, he grabs your waist, pulls you closer to him. Your lips part, you breathe in the same air as him, and your tongue pokes in. You know you’re not supposed to kiss with tongue, it’s an unspoken rule in the movie industry. But the kiss needs to be passionate, and Jacob doesn’t seem to mind as he kisses back the same. Then, everything speeds up. You get pinned to the wall forcefully, and a soft gasp leaves your mouth as he steps back. You blink.

Jacob’s brown eyes are now a dark green, almost black. His curly hair is no more, it’s now straight, short, but long enough to be tossed to the side and pulled if necessary. And instead of a hairless chin, there’s a delicious copper color scruff on the lower part of his face.

“Jensen…” You can’t help but moan, all air exiting your lungs.

That was when your phone decided to ring, bringing you back to reality. Startled, you sat up quickly and looked around. Another ding reminded you where you were and what was happening, so you rushed to the table to grab your phone. 

The screen lit up with unread texts and your heart sank with anxiety. They were all from Jensen.

We need to talk

Meet me on set now

Stress and fear were beating strong in your head when you arrived on the dark, empty set. Out of breath from having run there, you bent down, trying to get oxygen into your lungs. You’d been so worried about what your director wanted, you’d left without thinking about the kind of things most humans would have. Like taking your phone with you, instead of setting it back down on the table and bolting.

“Took you some time,” a rough, angry voice said in the distance. Since the set was closed for the night, there weren't many lights on. It took you some time to figure out where he was, and when you finally reached him, you froze in front of him, your mind going blank.

Jensen was sitting on the metallic stairs that were part of the structure to adjust the spotlights on the ceiling. His right arm was leaning on the railing, his fist tensed and resting near his chin. His other arm was draped over his knee. He was still wearing the same clothes, the baseball hat slightly askew on his head, but this time it wasn't hiding his eyes.

There was a dark fire burning in them.

“I’m so sorry,” you hastened to say, still out of breath. You hadn't noticed you still had the lollipop in your mouth until you spoke. When you realized, you hurried to take it out and hide it behind your back.

“Sorry. You’re sorry a lot,” Jensen said, still not moving from his position. A painful lump formed in your throat at how intimidating he was and how hard it was to look him in the eyes. You opened your mouth to apologize again, but he was faster. Now on his feet, Jensen sprang quickly towards you.

By reflex, you lowered your head immediately. But that seemed to annoy him, as you could hear him clicking his tongue disapprovingly above you. It made you want to be even smaller.

“You have no idea,” he scoffed, and you fought the need to lift your head and look at him to get answers. “No idea what you’re doing.” Like a predator, he started circling your frame. Whenever he looked, it burned and left goosebumps on your skin.

“I…don’t understand.” You swallowed hard and bit your lip anxiously.

“This.” His voice stopped in front of you. The tone he used for that single word managed to make you stop breathing and the lollipop fell from your hand. “How you bite your lips when you’re shy or anxious. How you play with your hair, your eyes wide and clueless. How you always have a finger in your mouth.” 

As he was speaking, you felt something on your chin that forced you to lift your head. You followed the movement without any resistance and ended up meeting his eyes. God, your legs got so wobbly, you nearly collapsed at his feet. 

“How you never look me in the eyes and always keep your head bent submissively." 

Jensen let go of your chin, but you didn’t move. As though in a trance, you kept staring, your lips parted and your eyes teary. But it was not because you were sad or afraid. You were simply, and completely, lost in him. 

“You’re so innocent, it’s insane. You ran here immediately, when I asked you to, didn't even bother putting on pants.” Each of his words were slow, like he wanted you to understand them perfectly.

His last sentence brought you back to earth and you broke eye contact to look down and see what you were wearing. Shame burned like a slap in your face when you realized he was right.

You were still dressed for sleep. You were still wearing your version of pajamas - just an oversized shirt and panties.

Crap. Fuck.

You were about to apologize, your head still bowed, when you realized you were looking at something you'd seen before.

It was dark in the studio. But there was no mistaking it. The bump you'd seen earlier, pushing out the front of his jeans, was back. 

It took some time for his words to make their way into your brain. After all, like he said, you were acting innocent, naive, a bit slow, even.

But not stupid. 

You'd finally done the math in your mind, and figured things out. When you lifted your head again, it was to meet his eyes. 

And this time, you didn’t look away.

“I’m turning you on,” you said on an exhale, the truth of the situation sending waves of heat down your body. No words left his mouth, but you didn’t need to hear his answer. The way his face darkened, his eyes roaming your body, was his way of telling you that you were right, and that he felt no shame because of it. 

“I didn’t think you had the guts to say it out loud.” Jensen said as he took a step closer to you. By reflex, you stepped back, your eyes still not leaving his.

“I don’t…do it on purpose, I’m sorry,” you offered, stepping back again as he moved closer to you. 

All you wanted in that moment was to let him do whatever he wanted to you. You wanted to live out everything you'd imagined all those nights when you couldn’t sleep because you were thinking too much about him. But still, something inside you was holding back.

“Exactly,” he answered, lowering his head. You could barely see his eyes under the hat. He kept walking towards you and you kept walking backwards until you ended up moving beyond the lights to a spot that was so dark by contrast, that all you could see was an abstract, scary shade advancing towards you. 

“You don’t even do it on purpose.” He continued. His voice sounded closer than he looked, so you stepped back quicker.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, and finally, you were in another pool of light. 

But he wasn’t.

Glancing all around you, you strained your eyes, trying to see through the dark areas of the stage, but it was impossible with the strong light shining down on you. All you could see was your feet, and the area just to your left, where the set was still decorated for the bedroom scene you hadn't been able to get through.

Having been too focused on figuring out where Jensen was coming from in the darkness around you, you hadn’t immediately noticed where he was leading you.

“You need to pay more attention, Y/n. And realise how much of a fucking tease you are.”

His voice echoed all around you, so of course, you stepped back towards the light, the whole situation making you feel equally scared and incredibly horny. 

“I’m sorry!” You repeated, biting your lips, your hand near your mouth like somehow, biting every part of your body could help you. 

That was when your back hit a wall. Or, at least, you thought it was a wall at first. Had to be. But then, you could feel it move behind you, rising and falling. The warmth of it hit next, and finally, the soft breath lifting your hair with each exhale. 

“Stop. Being. Sorry.”

Your whole body froze as you felt how tense his body was behind you. The tension was so strong, it was overpowering the room, and it was controlling you. Without thinking, you melted into his body, and your whole demeanor changed. “Why don’t you make me, Mister Ackles?”

A growl answered your challenge. “I knew it.”

And just like that, you were done resisting.

Hands landed on your hips, fingers digging into the skin barely covered by your shirt. He spun you around in his arms so you were facing him. You placed both hands on his chest, and barely lifting your head, you looked up teasingly through your lashes. “Are you done talking now?”

“I knew you were a fucking tease.” 

And with that, a smile stretched across Jensen's lips. But you couldn’t admire it for very long, because within a second of that smile, his mouth was on yours for a breathtaking kiss. You felt the air leave your lungs as you kissed him back immediately. 

His hands gripped your hips impossibly tight, before he let go to slip them under your shirt, his fingers immediately caressing your skin, discovering the new territory. He touched you everywhere, exploring your body as though he couldn't get enough. 

After a few moments of admiring you with his touch, his hands dropped back to your ass, and he squeezed it. Still kissing you, Jensen couldn’t use words, but you felt how he exhaled against your mouth, the way his chest rose and fell heavily, his hands almost shaking on your body. 

He was holding back.

Breaking the kiss, Jensen placed his forehead on yours and let a sigh escape his lips.

“We… We shouldn’t do that…”

“Do what,” you panted. You couldn't decide if you wanted to stare at his mouth or stay caught in his gaze, “we’re already doing it.”

“We can’t…fuck, we can't be caught,” he insisted. His mouth was saying one thing, but his body was saying the complete opposite as he pressed himself even closer to you, his hands tightening their grip on your ass cheeks.

“We won’t get caught if we stay quiet.” Brushing your teeth against his lower lip, you stepped forward forcing him to step back until his legs met the bed. The same bed you had to do your sex scene on. What an irony. 

“So, if you could stop talking and fuck me already, it would be done faster.”

Hearing those words from your lips seemed to turn a switch in Jensen. If he hadn't been completely sure at first about what you were doing, now all hesitations and worries were gone. You didn’t think it was possible, but his eyes grew darker, you could see pure hunger lurking in his pupils as he looked you up and down. And without delay, Jensen let his hands slip under your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you standing in front of him in only your panties.

No words left his mouth as he continued to admire you, and you felt a boost of confidence rising in you. It had been so long since someone looked at you that way, with so much need and desire. Indeed, you weren't sure if anyone ever truly had. 

It felt good, freeing, to feel sexy and desired by a man such as him. You felt like you had all the power in the world. If you wanted, you were sure you could make him kneel in front of you, and that was an exciting thought.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Jensen growled, his eyes not getting enough of you. His hands were already in your underwear, trying to get rid of that last piece of clothing separating him from the full view of you.

“I know.” You said in response to his compliment.

It was out of your mouth before you could think twice about it. Never before had you felt so confident in yourself. It felt so good. 

You nodded towards him. “Now. I believe I’m the only one naked.”

“Honey, you’re not naked yet,” He said with a smirk before his hands tore apart your underwear. You gasped, surprised at his strength, and your shyness returned for only a brief moment. 

“God. If only you knew how bad I’ve been wanting this." he groaned.

One blink. Two blinks. You were back, focused, confident. You were hot, he desired you, just like you desired him. “Then, show me.” One finger pointed towards him, you pressed on his chest to push him softly. Jensen let himself fall back on the bed and looked up at you.

“Undress,” you commanded.

With eagerness, Jensen removed the baseball hat, throwing it somewhere into the dark surrounding you. Your eyes didn’t leave him once as he pulled his clothes off piece by piece tossing them to pile up on the floor around you, until there were none left. And just as he'd admired you earlier, you stared at him, slowly absorbing all of him.

To say he was beautiful was a weak description. Sexy wasn’t even a strong enough word to describe how he looked. He was all muscles, especially his upper torso; his shoulders and arms were thick and round with muscle. A bit lower, his stomach was soft, but you could see the shades of a six pack moving beneath. And below that, resting up between thick thighs, his cock was begging for attention.

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but stare a little too long. He was big, and just imagining him inside of you had you closing your thighs together and clenching around nothing.

“Come here.” He said, his voice soft, but deep.

Jensen clearly couldn’t wait for you to do as he asked, because he grabbed your wrist to make you move forward. You placed a knee on either side of his hips and sat down on his thighs, soaking them in the process. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. All for me?” His face was hidden against your throat and you shivered, goosebumps spreading on your body as his beard created a delicious burn on your skin. He nibbled your flesh, kissed it and marked it with his teeth. 

All you could do as he touched you everywhere with his mouth and hands was to whimper. It was so hot, your head was spinning, you felt him everywhere, like you were slowly becoming one with him. “Fuck, please,” you quickly begged. 

“Please what?” His lips curled up against your skin, his hands on your ass cheeks inviting you to grind against his thighs. You moaned again, your head thrown back to give him more access to your throat. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“Fuck,” you croaked out, your hips moving on your own now. Grinding felt good, but it wasn’t enough. It could barely scratch that itch, all you were doing was wetting his thighs more and more, and that was very humiliating. You were soaked. It didn’t help that you were straddling both his thighs, so nothing was pressed hard enough against your core. As you expressed your frustration with a whine, your body showed the same frustration by slowing down.

“What’s up baby,” Jensen whispered against your ear, his warm breath sending more shivers down your neck. “Can’t get off?” 

You answered him by stopping completely, your breathing fast and irregular. “You have to tell me. Tell me what you want?” He chuckled and suddenly, you were a few centimeters higher, something strong pressing against your core. 

A whimper of surprise left your lips as you understood; Jensen had lifted one of his legs, his foot resting on the bed frame. It allowed you to feel it now, feel the pressure, feel him between your legs. To thank him, you kissed his neck and immediately resumed your movements.

Your teeth sank into his flesh just in time to silence your voice. In this position, grinding his leg felt divine. It pressed at just the right spot, and since you'd already soaked his thigh, you could move easily. Your hips rolled without you even thinking about it, you chased it, the high, the peak, the pleasure, but it could only build up more and more and more… without getting that little explosion you were looking for.

And quickly, you were whining again.

“Don’t forget what I said,” Jensen’s voice sounded against your ear again, so rough you nearly froze. 

In your current state of your mind, with a climax that didn’t wanna come no matter how much you chased it, it was hard for you to pay attention and listen to what he was saying. It was hard to even think. But finally, you remembered that Jensen had ordered you to tell him what you wanted.

“Wanna feel you inside me, please Jensen, please, fuck me,” you begged, your voice almost pathetic, you needed it so badly. You kept begging, kissing his neck, trying everything to get what you wanted.

“I love it when you beg me.”

You couldn’t stop moving now, your hips went back and forth on his thigh relentlessly. You lost track of time. It felt like you were on his thighs, begging to be fucked, for hours now. So close but yet, so far from your release.

As you were focused on moving your hips and chasing your climax, everything moved at the same time. You were back on both his thighs, and as you ground forward again, you moved further up on his body, which had you…grinding against his cock.

The sensation was completely different. It was smaller, but his cock slid perfectly between the lips of your pussy and pressed on your clit just the right way. Jensen was half laying down to allow you this position, he was resting on his elbows, his dark eyes admiring the view and your pathetic attempts to cum. Now that you were on his cock, you felt a surge of heat pool between your legs. With this new sensation, you became even more desperate to get him inside you. He was so close.

As though reading your thoughts, Jensen only allowed you to rub against his cock a couple of times before his fingers tightened into the flesh of your hips, manipulating your body like you were just a doll, so he could place you where you wanted to be the most. 

One of his hands then left your hips, but you barely noticed it as you continued grinding down against his cock. Suddenly you felt something big pressed at your entrance. But you were so wet, it slipped inside you with almost no resistance. A loud moan left your mouth, surprise and pleasure mingling as you were impaled on his cock, letting gravity bury him to the hilt inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” You bit your lips, feeling so full it almost hurt. “You’re so big!” Pressing a hand to your lower stomach, you felt the shape of his cock under your fingers.

“I’m not all the way in yet.” Jensen said, his voice tight.

Your eyes widened, you had no time to prepare yourself before Jensen shifted slightly and pressed down on your hips, forcing his cock even deeper inside you. He pressed until you were flesh to flesh with him, until he was completely sheathed inside of you. Your vision got blurry immediately; it was too much and not enough at the same time. Your breathing cut off at the same time a long moan was about to leave your mouth.

When you got back your sight, you looked down at the man under you and finally noticed why you couldn’t breathe. A big, warm hand was placed on your mouth, skillfully muffling the sound of your moans.

“As much as I would love to hear you scream," a smirk stretched his lips and Jensen narrowed his eyes. “I can’t let anyone catch us. And you’re awfully loud for a shy, innocent lil girl, huh?”

You wanted to talk back so bad, but even if you didn’t have the hand on your mouth, you wouldn’t have been able to form a coherent sentence. Because the moment he said that, Jensen moved his hips up and your eyes rolled back in your head. God, it felt so good, even your thoughts were being fucked stupid. 

“Hmmm…” You moaned under his hand.

“Hmmm…” Jensen repeated. “You can bite me if you need. But do not make a sound. Understood?”

Removing his hand, Jensen waited for your answer. Your head was still floating on a cloud, so it took some time for you to understand his order. Mouth half open, you nodded, agreeing to whatever he wanted. As long as he fucked you. That was all you wanted, all you needed.

“Good girl.”

And that was exactly what you did. When Jensen lifted your hips to allow him some room to fuck up into you, you immediately hid your face against his neck and bit down on the soft spot between his shoulder and his throat. At first, his thrusts were slow as though he was testing you. You suspected it was either to make sure you would stay silent, or because he wanted to be sure you were not in pain. After all, he was so thick and big, he stretched you so much that you did feel like you might rip in two.

But when Jensen understood there was no need to worry, that you could stay quiet and that you could take all of him, he let go.

Picking up his speed to a devastating pace he fucked up into you, his hands still on your hips inviting you to slam down each time he was deep inside of you. And each time that happened, he hit your cervix with a beautiful pain that made you bite him harder, your nails digging into his back, anything to hold back your voice.

But you were losing the battle.

After a few minutes in that position, Jensen quickly pulled you off his cock. A pathetic whimper echoed in the room and you never understood it was you, making all those little noises.

“Hold on," Jensen said soothingly, "you’ll be more comfortable like this."

It was hard to fully understand what was happening, your mind was so fogged up with pleasure and all the sensations happening at the same time. But one moment, you were sitting on top of him, and the next you were laying on your stomach, a pillow beneath your cheek and your hips slightly raised.

You didn’t know what the purpose of the pillow was until he thrusted back inside of you, bottoming out immediately. In the new position, he had no trouble moving, and didn’t wait for you to bite into the pillow, grabbing on to it with all your might, before he began moving. 

Already, his cock was going in and out of your channel, so hard, so fast, your whole body was shifting and trembling with pleasure. And without realizing it, you were slamming back against him to feel him hit as deep as possible, just to feel that sharp, pleasure-filled pain you enjoyed so much before. 

You didn’t think it could be any better, but then…

Jensen’s voice was deep, rough. He wasn’t talking. He was breathing fast and didn’t hold back his pleasure, you could hear it. Groaning, moaning, swearing.

But for him, your pleasure was more important. He wanted to hear you, even if it was muffled against the pillow. One of his hands slid under your body and between your thighs until he found what he was looking for. And the moment he pressed on it, the moment he started rubbing your clit, the pleasure exploded. 

It was too much.

With his arm wrapped around your thigh, and his fingers pressing against your clit, Jensen couldn’t go as fast as he had been, but he kept thrusting slow and deep. His fingers played with your clit, brushed it and made quick circles around it until he found the right movement and rhythm that would make you come apart. When he found it, you could hear him chuckle. Even over your own moans and with a shrill sound pounding in your ears, you could still hear him. And what you heard was Jensen, in his deep, rough voice, ordering you to cum.

It was way too much for you.

Your orgasm had been building since you started, so when it finally popped, it was without warning. Your mind went blank, your eyes rolled back, and your body shook under him. It was so intense, you were sure there were a few seconds where you simply ceased to exist.

Nothing existed.

You finally came back to yourself just in time to feel Jensen pull out of you quickly, and then hot drops of something ran down your ass. Your hearing took some time to come back fully, and there was still the echo of something shrill when you turned your head back to look over your shoulder.

Jensen was on his knees between your legs, his hand on his half hard cock. There was cum dripping down his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind as his eyes were closed and his head bent back a little. His climax was probably as strong as yours.

It took some time to catch your breath. And then, the realization of what happened hit you like a ton of bricks. Panic seized you, you tried to get on your feet quickly but tripped and fell back on the bed.

“Hey, hey,” Jensen was immediately beside you, helping you lay back down on the bed. “Don’t get up too fast. That was fucking intense, you might still be light headed.” 

You shook your head. “I… I have to leave…” You tried to get up again, but Jensen stopped you. Not able to meet his eyes, you looked to the right, staring at nothing but the endless darkness of the set.

Jensen sighed and rubbed your arm softly. His hand was warm and it felt good against your skin. You didn’t feel it right now, but you knew you would be sore tomorrow. 

“Please, don’t leave.” 

Surprised to hear that, especially after what you just did, you turned your head and looked at him with big teary eyes. 

“I know what we did was not professional.” He said softly.

You nodded and sniffed, feeling yourself get all flustered the more you looked at him. But not because he was intimidating, his voice was gentle.

It was the softest he'd been since you'd started working with him.

You shook your head. “You’re my boss…we can’t…” 

“I know.” He agreed simply.

Feeling slightly better, you sat down but stayed on the bed. Since it was still hard to look at him, you stared at your hands and played with your fingers. 

“But Y/n…” 

You looked up at him again, feeling so many things at the same time. You were scared of what would happen now. Scared because all you wanted was to do it again. Scared, but also hopeful and good. You felt so good. The afterglow of the amazing sex was still there and very hard to ignore. 

“I meant it when I hired you. You are beautiful.” Jensen said with a soft smile.

A shy, answering smile appeared on your face at the compliment, but your eyes stayed sad. 

“That’s why, when I saw you," he continued, "I…I knew I'd finally found the lead for the movie. You were exactly how I pictured her. And when I made you audition, the joy I felt seeing that you could act? Well, was perfect."

"But…” Pausing, Jensen sighed again. He seemed at war with himself as he tried to explain. You took his hand in yours to encourage him to continue. 

“I started falling for you in a way I knew I shouldn’t.” He shrugged and looked away, his fingers playing with yours now. “And then came the sex scene and I was just. You were doing amazing, but I was so jealous. And pissed. Because I couldn’t help but feel aroused watching you make out. So out of both of us, it's really me that's not being professional. Your scenes were fine, I just…wanted to see you do them again and again. And I kept picturing me-”

“Jensen." You interrupted.

Your head was spinning with everything that was happening. What he just said - it was a confession. You had no idea how a man like him could fall for you, but you knew one thing. 

You were falling for him too.

“I don’t know what to do,” his hand left yours to be placed against his face in defeat. “I want you. But also, the movie…we can’t do that.”

“I…” You started, your heart beating nervously with what you were about to say. It could be a very bad idea, but for now, it seemed like the best. 

" We're almost done filming, and after the movie is complete, you won’t be my boss anymore, so…”

Jensen looked at you with interest in his eyes. “So…it wouldn't be…”

"...wrong." You finished for him. “And in the meantime, we could just call this…” You pointed to yourself and then to him, “...personal training?” 

You grinned playfully. “After all, you just helped me find my inner mistress. I think next time we shoot the scene will be a good one.”

Relief seemed to wash over Jensen’s face at your proposition. “You don’t need me to practice, you have lots of talent, Y/n. A lot.”

Heat invaded your face again at his wonderful compliments. You were not used to that “Not that good. So yeah, I’m gonna need that training. Unless you don’t want to?”

The moment you said that, his eyes grew two shades darker. “Oh, I do want to. Come on, let’s go to my trailer, we’ll be more comfortable…ah…rehearsing more of your scenes.”

“Alright. Let me just find my shirt, since you destroyed my panties.” Thinking about how he ripped the fabric apart made you clench your thighs, your face getting warmer.

“I don’t think you can wait that long,” Jensen said as he helped you get up on your feet. He grabbed the bed sheet to wrap it around you. “And neither can I.”

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