#went skiing to try and get my mind off things

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.

Word Count: 5107

Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex

A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)

———————————

It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it. 

Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it. 

It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him. 

Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache. 

Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right? 

You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but… 

Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it. 

Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her. 

“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.” 

You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs. 

“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?” 

“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.” 

Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him. 

“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand. 

“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.” 

Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out. 

“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table. 

You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober? 

You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do? 

“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you. 

“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it. 

“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink. 

“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked. 

You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared. 

Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled. 

“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.” 

Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.” 

“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you. 

You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid. 

You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible. 

You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth. 

Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused. 

Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.” 

“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader. 

“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him. 

“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -” 

He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you. 

“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question. 

“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly. 

“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath. 

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.” 

Oh. 

“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you. 

Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky. 

“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now. 

“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.” 

You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.

Oh. 

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you. 

You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental? 

“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command. 

Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile. 

“I think that would be okay,” you whispered. 

His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest. 

He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right? 

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again. 

Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head. 

Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather. 

He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise. 

Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you. 

His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle. 

Oh, he liked you a lot. 

“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it. 

Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you. 

You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch. 

He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked. 

Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“

“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered. 

——————————————————

You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture. 

There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books. 

You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer. 

He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move. 

You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers. 

It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now? 

You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too. 

There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now. 

And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises. 

“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.” 

“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.

“Lot of books,” you pointed out. 

“Yep.” 

You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?” 

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face. 

You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it. 

Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. 

“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“

“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about. 

You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair. 

Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.

Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low. 

Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star. 

And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled. 

“I want you.”

Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered. 

“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him. 

Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”

“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath. 

Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone. 

“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face. 

You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. 

“My shirt,” he stated. 

“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.” 

“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.

“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips. 

“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again. 

“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer just nodded. “All the time.” 

I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.

You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it. 

“Y/N?” 

You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again. 

You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it. 

Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool. 

Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts. 

Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself. 

“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat. 

“You-”

“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request. 

“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”

Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood. 

________________________________________

Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right? 

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.” 

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight. 

Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him. 

Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?” 

“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive. 

You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?” 

Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying. 

“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.” 

“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began. 

You started to smile. 

Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.” 

Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.” 

“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back. 

Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.” 

“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips. 

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?” 

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Full Baby Back Guarantee Not Included (dp x dc)

“Look, lady. It was a joke, ok? I don’t actually want your newborn baby,” Danny said as he held up his hands trying to back away from the woman with a bundle of blankets in her arms.

“We made a deal, you can’t back out now,”  The woman said as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Your kind can’t break their words.”

“My kind?” Danny exclaimed incredulously, because what the hell was she on. “Lady, you are delusional.”

Then his eyes caught on the awkward way the woman was holding onto the bundle and he frowned.

“Wait a second.” The halfa’s eyes went big. “Is that even your kid?!” his voice turning into a shriek at the end. “Did you kidnap some random child?”

“It’s my sister’s,” the woman cut him off coldly. “She and the father are both dead.” That was pretty awful, Danny thought as he winced. But then she turned to look blankly at him.

“Nobody will look for her.”

Dear skies above, he was supposed to be the ghost here, why was he the one getting chills.

“Holy fuck,” the halfa let out softly. 

He had to get that baby away from that psychopath.

“What is it you want again?” Danny asked faintly.

“Make me the new chief operating officer,” the woman answered.

“What?” The halfa choked out.

“They’re giving the position to Shwartz this monday. You need to make sure that doesn’t happen,” she continued evenly as if she wasn’t currently selling a baby in exchange for a fucking promotion.

“Yeah sure, deal,” Danny answered, eager to get away from her as soon as possible. 

“Give me your word,” she insisted.

“I give my word, I swear,” the halfa said. “Gimme the kid and you’ll get your job.”

The woman looked at him for a second before seemingly being satisfied. 

She extended the bundle of blankets towards him and handed him the swaddle baby. As soon as the kid was in his arms, Danny zipped away, fully intent on never seeing the woman again. He sure as hell was not getting her that promotion. Not that he would’ve been able to, what the hell, lady? At least research better before making a deal for your sister's baby!

Though in retrospect, it was a good thing she hadn't.

As Danny flew over a few buildings, he thanked the ancients the woman hadn’t had any ghost restraining tech, and only the summoning ritual. Which was a thing he had not been aware existed but he he would have to circle back to that because, right now, he had a whole ass baby nestled in his arms.

What the hell was his life.

Danny slowed down the flight once he felt he had put enough distance between them and the psycho and landed on a nice patch of green next to a road. He looked around and took notice that they’d gotten out of whatever that city had been, or at least the more populated part. He gave a quick look for people or cameras around before de-transforming. If he was spotted with a baby in his arms, his human look would help his chance of not getting shot.

The halfa started walking away from the road and towards the green vegetation. Still walking, he took a deep breath before looking down at the baby.

“You ok, kid?” Danny asked softly as their small (so so tiny!) face twitched in their sleep. “Oh you’re sleepy, huh?” he murmured gently. “Sleep tight sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Then he secured the blankets around the baby again, making sure none of the wind was reaching her. It was probably a her? The blankets were pink but he couldn’t know for sure since the psycho had only called her an it. Danny felt his lips curl. And as the night replayed in his mind, he felt the weight of the situation settle down on him.

Ancients what was he going to do?

He couldn’t pull up in Amity with a baby in his arms and no explanation of how he got her. He’d be arrested for kidnapping, which was technically absolutely what he was doing. But then again he couldn't just give that baby back to her aunt.

“What are you doing here?” came a voice from ahead of him.

Danny startled out of his thoughts to find himself facing an older man in a suit with a severe look on his face. The halfa instinctively brought the baby closer to his chest and the movement drew the older man’s eyes towards it.

Danny could see the realization of what it was he was holding settle and the man's face softened. He sighed deeply as his gaze went back up to meet the halfa’s.

“Despite what the media fancy printing, Wayne manor is not actually an orphanage.”

Danny had no idea what he was talking about so he just stayed silent and did his best not to look like someone who kidnapped babies.

The older man took the silence in stride. “If you need some help, there are programs to help young people in your situation,” he continued delicately.

Danny frowned as he tried to figure out what the guy meant by that before his eyes grew wide. “I’m not her dad!” He cried.

“I see,” the man said evenly as he looked back down at the bundle. Danny held her closer in response. “I see,” the guy repeated with a slight change in his voice.

The two held each other’s gaze for a moment before the older man sighed again. 

“Shall we continue this inside? It is getting windy and we wouldn’t want the little one to suffer, would we?” The man offered in a soothing tone.

Danny hesitated but one look at the kid’s face that had grown pink from the cold decided him.

“Ok,” Danny said. “Lead the way.”

And with that the three of them started  across the grassy lawn.

[gamblersdoll]

nsfw, cnc mention, rough sex, spit, spanking, degrading, deku using blackwhip, manipulation. lmk if i didnt tag it. attempted kidnapping, stalker themes implied.

an: its been edited for more… fantasy.

the city was clear skied at night, civilly looking and dressed by the way. no villains were out, crime was semi dying downing and only left to maybe crimes that occurred twice a month. even then, it wasnt like it was eliminated.

maybe the universe was trying to give you and izuku, the number two pro here, after todoroki, a chance at happiness. maybe a saving grace, it could be. it only started after you and izukus marriage, it was a good thing. the media went crazy about you and izuku marrying , screaming how it wasnt meant to be.

thats the only reason it brought izukus rating down, because of a damn relationship. it wasn’t supposed to be you and izuku, it was just supposed to be ochako and izuku. yet, izuku always assured you that you were his true love.

and maybe that saving grace after the marriage was short lived, since crime spiked back up, immediately too.

and it was one that was very, destructive. which only meant a specific person that unfortunately fell into the hands of crime when he was attempting to be a hero.

dynamight.

izuku often did search for him, attempting to find his childhood best friend who desperately wanted to be a hero. but would always come up empty handed..

this time was different.

“izuku!” you screamed, keeping the door open and just staring at the horrifying box in front of you. he comes stumbling down the stairs, hand on your hip and bug eyed at the box.

someone has it out for you, bad. and they have your address, presumably pretending to be usps. or it was someone who worked at the delivery company, sending you body parts for and as an act of love.

it didnt make sense to you.

“are you going to be okay when im gone, love?” izuku says, tightening up his hero boots and looking to you. you nod, feeling his hand caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “good. i love you.”

“i love you.” you say back, watching him depart from you in a instant. he had to go to the americas for a mission, supposedly. there was a big problem over there and they needed as many heroes as possible.

thats what heroes do, right?

thats what you at least remind yourself, since you were on active leave because of a big mission you did. you were forced to take a break, since your arm and shoulder were damaged. you were only discharged a couple months ago—

“grab the girl!” a rando shouted, a hand over your mouth and a knife to your throat. you were fucked, dropping your phone in a scramble and you damn sure couldnt use your fucking quirk. “what a lucky day! just my damn luck–!”

and you heard him gargle, was he that fucked in his mind he had gone rabid? his hands drop, his heavy weight pushing into you and you.. move away? you look to see what had happened, only to see his head had became scrambled.

you feel a cold sweat, your stomach churning and it feels like you could vomit. sure, youre a pro now— that doesnt mean you cant feel a little sick from the gore of the scene. you look to the wall, reading it.

‘youre welcome.’

someone had saved you? it was that quick? you look around the area, top and bottom. there wasnt a gunman, nor was there any traces. you scramble to find your device, calling izuku.

please, pick the fuck up.

“baby?” he asks, sounding concern.

“i almost got kidnapped—“ you start, but you think that izuku would freak out. but.. hes more calm. “but, the weirdest shit happened, the perp just.. died behind me! his head.. its like halfway gone, and i guess whoever the ‘hero’ of the night is, basically said i was fucken welcomed.”

“youre okay though, right?” izuku asks. no, youre not fucking okay, you just almost got abducted and someone blew someones head off behind you! you grunt a response, “okay, get home safe, okay bunny?”

yeah, right.

yet, something felt.. off about him when he came back. he said he would be back by the twentieth of july, and it was the fucking first of august.

“where have you been?” you ask, worried, scared, nervous, angry, confused all hit you at the same time. it felt like hell, you didn’t want to be that insecure wife that questioned her husband each day.

“something came up, im sorry baby.” he apologized, coming over to hold you and kiss your cheek. “you have nothing to worry about, sweetheart.”

“i..” you try and start, but the words just got stuck into your throat.

“you?” izuku tries to help, but it looks like he didnt want to hear it. feigning confusion and worry on his face, not like you could tell.

you were too in love and worried to even pay attention.

“i.. i forgive you.” you say, shaking those negative feelings and thoughts away from your body. it was good that you did that, you never did well with it.

good, according to plan.

you both went to sleep peacefully that night, you did at least…

until you didnt, you were a light sleeper. and of course, you heard something. something wasnt right, no, it was too hot. izuku mustve changed the temperature in the house.

your feet move , still groggy and looking at the thermostat.

seventy-nine degrees?! did he want both of you to fucking boil!? you curse under your breath, changing it back to the original temperature, at least sixty degrees. yet, something still didnt feel right—

creak!

you think its izuku, so you go back upstairs. that boy was still asleep—

creeakk!

someone or something was in the house, and you shake him. “izuku, somethings in the house.” you silent shout, knowing he wasnt that heavy of a sleeper. was he really that tired to where he wouldnt wake to do a check in the house?

fine, be that fucking way, deku.

you go on your own, and you tiptoe in your own fucking house.. how comical. but there is a lingering smell, it wasnt a familiar smell.

or at least, not yours or izukus.

you check each room, there wasnt anything.. and then back downstairs. maybe you were paranoid—

no, the fuck you werent. or maybe you just see a big ass shadow man sitting in the corner of the living room. you stop in your tracks, you have to be making eye contact with this.. thing.

he clears his throat, tapping his foot, and goes to stand up–

“midori—mff!” you try to shout for him, but a hand comes around your mouth and you can smell it, chloroform.

you wake up finally, groggy and trying to remember what had happened, but you see him, bakugou. you remember his suit, his hair, those mean, red eyes that you had first fallen in love with.

“nothin’ to say?” he starts, pulling his hands out of his gloves and crouching in front of you. “welcome home, beauts.”

“zuku!” you try, but bakugou just laughs.

“he’s probably still asleep, he was always a heavy sleeper.” bakugou started again, “izuku?” he mocks, looking around and back to you. “still asleep.”

“you—“

“yeah yeah, im a villain, this that ‘n the third.” he mumbles, kissing your cheek then getting close to your ear. “but i saved you, didnt i?” he whispers, “youre welcome.”

and it clicks, he was the one that blew the guys’ brains out.

you hear a door open, and a tuff of green hair. izuku walks in, standing in the doorway and dynamight just looks at him. “izuku! please..” you say, knowing he would save you.

“oh, hey kacchan.” he simply says, walking over and dapping him up. it confused the fuck out of you, and he just looks at you like there isnt a fucking villain in front of you. “hi, baby.”

“midoriya, what the fuck are you doing?!” you shout, “do you not see him?” you question, feeling bakugou get behind you and release you.

“oh, i do.” he replies, kissing your cheek and releasing blackwhip to restrain you. “guess we should talk about it.”

talk about what?! that he allowed a villain inside?

you glare at him, and katsuki laughs. “oh, thats a mean ass look. could make me fold in a minute.”

“izuku.” you repeat, staring at him. “did.. you plan this?” you ask, hoping and praying to whatever god there was that you were wrong, like this was a bad dream and you were stuck.

“yeah, ive been wanting to tell you that.” he starts, seeing how your heart drops to your ass. “before you get all worried, its also technically your fault.”

now how in the mother fuck.

“how?” you ask, growing paranoid, angry, scared.

“did you not realize that the usps label was slightly ripped?” he asks, showing the box with the finger and the tongue inside of it. it makes you gag, and katsuki shushes you in consolation. “did you not realize that the perp who wanted to ‘kidnap’ you was our priest from our wedding?”

thinking back on it now.. maybe it was. no, it was our priest.

“but.. why kill the pre—??”

“he knew what was going on, and was trying to save you. as if you needed to be saved.” katsuki interrupted, brushing your hair back.

“and to be honest, all three of us were technically married. it was meant to be.” katsuki adds, showing the marriage license.

the three were.. married? meant to be?

riiipp!

you feel your sleep shorts be ripped off, looking to izuku for some sort of reasoning. he gets closer, kissing your lips and then looking back to katsuki. “be careful with her, you havent fucked her, ever.” he says, tightening blackwhip and smiling. “he’s going to be gentle this time, okay?”

you feel warmth around your slit, moaning out and you hate how you sound, the fact this was even arousing pissed you off.

why was it arousing?

“fuck, shes so sweet..” katsuki groans, licking at your clit and suckling. his heavy cock gets heavier, pulling you close and slipping into your walls.

“zuku!—“

“wrong name, baby.” katsuki rasps, pulling your hips back and thrusting into you. “ha..haaah!” he pants out, tongue lolled out and drooling onto your ass. “oh, ive wanted this, ive wanted thiss!”

“its okay, bunny, see how hes being so sweet with you?” izuku speaks, kissing you cheek. he looks at your crossed eyes, fists balled up and he rubs your knuckles.

this feels wrong, but it doesnt feel so bad.

or was it you being corrupted that manipulated you into thinking that?

it was definitely the corruption of your walls that shot to your mind, your ass burned from the constant slam of his hips into them. “fuck, wanted you since the day i saw you!” he growls, spitting onto your back and wrapping a arm around your neck.

and this fucker izuku just watches.

“going to make you mine, mine!” katsuki says, feeling your corrupt walls squeezes around him in ecstasy, which causes him to break you. he slaps your ass, digging his nails into the tender flesh as he holds onto you for support. “gunna’ cum in you, fuck ive wanted this so bad!”

it makes izuku hard.. really.

“wanted to watch you slut yourself out to deku.. wanted to watch you get cock drunk of’fa me!” he babbles, turns out he was getting pussy drunk off of you. he licks up your back, biting into your shoulder and whispers into you. “do you feel it? do you feel how much of a slut you are? huuhh?”

he whines his hips slow, laughing all mean and slapping your backend again. “oh, god, youre so much sexier in person!” he says, eyes dilating and he licks his canines. “fuck, just like that, going to fuckin cum!—“

he creams inside of you, feeling his seed spilling out of your walls. izuku only chuckles, lifting your head up to see your eyes.

your eyes were low and heavy, you had been in and out of consciousness. “see? we can all be a big happy married couple.”

—

“aand, cut!” the director says, katsuki just laughs and picks you up, blackwhip releasing you.

“you okay, mama?” he asks, squishing your cheeks and looking at your eyes. “shit, grab her water, idiot!” katsuki yells to the backstage, them rushing to the fridge.

“sugar, you okay?” izuku asks, tapping each part of your skin to bring your back down to earth. you nod, both men sighing in relief as katsuki helps you drink the cold water. “we didnt go to hard, did we?”

“mm, mm..” you respond, lazily looking up to them. “did me dirty though, having me in damn near eighty degree house.”

katsuki boisterously laughs, “that was my fault, forgot to turn it down, mama.” he says in a kiss.

[nmakii]

i saw u were taking requests! uhmmm, i had this thought just recently; you know how in the v first ep of hh where alastor kinda runs his fingers up his staff thingie? well, That but him doing it to reader instead teehee 🤭

YOUR SWEET RADIO DEMON!

— on a date with alastor, he gets unusually possessive and jealous

— I SAW THIS ANDIMMIDEITYYL HAD TO WRITE IT

as infamously known by hotel residents and staff, alastor loves to invade others’ personal space; pulling them uncomfortably close, touching their faces— it’s the sheer entertainment to see them writhe uncomfortably under his harsh touch, knowing that he could make them disappear right now if he wanted to.

but, he especially likes to touch you, his dear. your puffy baby cheeks, your big eyes, your resting pout on those pretty lips; you’re simply just adorable, he could eat you up!

he has to admit, you’re also divinely gorgeous, what if other overlords try to steal you away from him? of course, no one would even compare to him, much less dare to… but, he must be cautious in case some egotistical sinner thinks that they’d be able to court you.

he’d thought about marking you, perhaps on the neck, but doing that would include unsightly deeds that he wouldn’t want to indulge in…

so then, he decided to do the next best thing; have you accompany him as a companion through his day. keeping you with him as he does his overlord duties, an arm safely around your waist. and, in return, he spoils you with lovely gifts of top-notch quality.

of course, there are better solutions to satiate his possessive behavior… but, this is the one that both of you find most enjoyable.

on one of these days, alastor followed you inside as the two of you went on a date to lu-lu world, taking you on all of the thrilling rollercoasters. to be quite honest, he had a fun time, albeit all the tacky circus decor throughout the place.

while at one of the game booths, you threw the bean bag, hoping to score some points. alastor used his shadow to pull it into the hole, making absolute sure you win.

the gamemaker’s jaw fell in awe, never usually having anyone beat the game. “lovely game, my dear! i believe there is a prize that was won?” alastor looked at the demon gamemaker who hurriedly brought a large lamb-like plushie, styled after charlie’s bodyguard, dazzle.

after all of that, the red skies of hell grew dark as nightfall came. you and alastor walked to the exit before you ran into a specific man.

“oh..! what are you doing here?” lucifer asked, slightly pointing his staff towards you, his face contorting to annoyance as he looked at alastor.

“alastor and i are on… um…” you wandered off, a little embarrassed to explain. “we’re on a date, of course!” alastor announced as he pulled closer to him by your shoulder, his fingers moving behind you to dance on your skin.

your posture straightened, subconsciously trying to move away from the ticklish feeling moving itself up on your spine. “i’d say the better question is what is a man such as yourself doing here alone, hm?” alastor glared down at him.

“well, for one— i own the place.” lucifer frowned back at alastor. “very well, then. we’ll see you around, i suppose!” alastor sighed, pulling you immediately away from lucifer and not even giving him the chance to bid farewell.

as alastor pulled you away, you saw his smile getting strained. “are you ok? why were you—“ “what was that about, my love? why did you not tell him yourself that we were on a date?” you asked before alastor interrupted, the radio static over his voice getting louder the more irritated he got.

your eyes avoided his as you searched your mind for an answer. “ah… well…” you bit your lip, stalling yourself as you came up with a reason.

“is it because you’d rather go on a date with him instead?” he snarled, his eyes clearly frustrated. “would you rather be with that lonely man? all he ever does is make rubber ducks!” he sighed, his jealousy ruining his composure.

“what?!” you frowned. “no… it’s just that… it’s a little embarrassing to explain things to other people. i also got a little flustered because i didn’t expect to see him here… i love you, alastor, promise…” you pouted, leaning your head on his chest

he sighed, satisfied with your response as he put a hand on your head. “good. because you’re mine, dear. don’t ever forget that. and, if you do…” alastor started before his hand once again moved to your spine, two fingers tickling your skin as they danced their way to the nape of your neck.

“agh, stop that!” you whined. “that tickles… don’t worry, i’m all yours.” you shook your head, baffled by the extent of his jealousy. “very good… i love you too, my dear.”

[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Promise’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst!)

someone asked for a part two and I realized how good of an idea that was lmao. I need indirect ways to incorporate my past experiences into my fics anyway.

part one

prompt: you made a promise to distance yourself from Javi and Kate

TW: mentions of smoking, some detailed mention of self harm, suicidal thoughts, mentions of nausea, disordered eating, breakdowns, smoking, angst :(

Do NOT proceed if the triggers mentioned above upset you greatly. You have been warned.

I made a promise

To distance myself

Once Tyler dropped you off to the train station, you smiled and waved until you couldn’t see his truck anymore. You wanted to hang onto any last string of familiarity for as long as you could.

Especially since your life would change completely - for better or worse.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your trembling body.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

5 things you see - the train station, the crumbling yellow bricks, the jolly red-white-blue american flag, your luggage, and the people. Lots of people.

4 things you hear - the people, obviously, the cicadas crying, the heavy bell ringing inside, the honking of cars for you to get out of their way.

3 things you smell - the heat - somehow, the smell of smoke from cars, and the thick air.

2 things you feel - terrified. hurt.

1 thing you taste - bitterness.

Shaking your head, you take another deep breath. Eyes dead set on the mission in front of you, you marched into the train station, bought a ticket to Oklahoma City, and settled down inside.

But now was the hardest part; waiting. What made it harder was you didn’t want to think about anything that happened yesterday. So, putting your headphones on, you made a playlist with none of the songs that reminded you of Javi or any of the ones he recommended to you. Essentially, you just listened to 3 songs in total, over and over again, but the knowledge you knew what was coming next was comforting, something you couldn’t apply to your current situation.

Took a flight, through aurora skies

Honestly, I didn't think about

How we didn't say goodbye

Just see you very soon

You woke up when the train jolted to a stop - you had fallen asleep, waking up to hear the opening notes of some song you were listening to earlier. Looking out the window, you reached Oklahoma City. With a sigh of relief and trepidation, you got your bags and headed out of the station, hailed a taxi to the airport. Booking a last minute flight back home to LA, you made your way to the gate. Setting your bag down, you sat in a char near the huge windows. Deciding it wasn’t close enough, you sat on the little raised platform attached to the window and leaned your head against it like you saw so many children do.

The boarding call was announced, and everyone sat up groggily. It all went by pretty quickly. Standing in line, getting your boarding pass stamped and your passport checked, finding you seat, putting your bag away and sitting down. Taxi and take off was a blur; luckily you got a window seat, and stared out at the pink clouds, tinted by the setting sun, a peach tone.

Peachy, just like your favourite pie.

You groaned, covering your eyes and rubbing them as your mind started to think about Oklahoma. About Javi, and the last time he saw you. And the last thing he said to you. It wasn’t even a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t blame him because he didn’t know it was goodbye.

And honestly, neither did you.

But you made yourself a promise - to distance yourself.

Those last words of his echoed in your mind.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)”

It hurts to be something

It's worse to be nothing with you

You half expected a text from Javi - it had been around 24 hours since you last saw him. Since you told him you had a ‘family emergency’ to take care of. Who wouldn’t expect a little ‘you doing okay?’ or ‘safe travels’ when someone saw you break down in the middle of a field, distressed as hell? Sure, you and Javi weren’t dating, sure you both drifted apart ever since Kate got closer with him instead, but were you two not even friends anymore?

Did you mean nothing to him?

This wasn’t the first time he ghosted you - after the EF5 tornado, he didn’t say a word to you. But it was understandable why - everyone was hurting, and maybe he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. In Oklahoma, the only times he’d talk to you is when you started a conversation, otherwise you could sit silently and he’d happily talk with Kate, leaving you be. It was never him starting anything.

And Kate. Did she figure out you liked Javi? Is that why she didn’t text you? Did she feel guilty? Part of you wanted her to feel guilty, but the other part of you didn’t want to be pitied. Part of you wanted to go back, but this - this was best for you right now. Nobody could tell you otherwise.

Instead, you got a text from Tyler.

‘hey there cowgirl - how you getting along?’

You chuckled - ‘cowgirl’ was probably the worst way to describe yourself. Instead, you typed down a response, your heart a little less heavy.

‘hey, Tyler. thanks for asking. means a lot’

He was typing, the three dots appearing on screen

‘of course. lemme know if you need anything at all okay? stay safe out there’

You sent him an affirmative text, thankful to actually have a friend who cared enough to check in on you, helping you out without questioning anything, having only known you for a week.

So I didn't call you

For sixteen long days

You found comfort in some form of familiarity in your life; back home in LA, everything looked duller, more still. Like the whole world knew about your heartbreak and was mourning, or mocking you. You tried to plunge into work, distracting yourself but sometimes, you’d just stare at your work, screen or paper, and just zone out. Your was brain still trying to process everything, and you were losing a lot over it - sleep, peace, overall joy, your will to wake up, and more.

It felt like after the EF5 tornado but worse because you knew somewhere in Oklahoma, Kate was with Javi, both of them happier than ever. It felt worse because you could never have him anymore. He was gone. And someone got to see him every day, sometimes wake up next to him, sometimes stay up all night with him. You felt like you were gonna be sick.

For a fortnight, all you could eat was cheese, bread, and grapes. It was the only thing you could keep down.

It was so hard not to text Javi. After you had just left, it’s like you were isolated for 5 years, given a taste of him, then forcing yourself to stay away. It was something you chose to do, not something you were forced to live with.

But you won’t call him. No matter how long the days felt they were dragging by.

And I should get a cigarette

For so much restraint

Walking by a drugstore to entertain yourself, you entered the establishment with an electronic ding notifying your presence. Strolling through the ailes, you picked up Sourhead Extremes (so in case you wanted to call Javi, you’d have to go through a gustatory agony first) and some nail polish, just to look pretty. Walking to the cashier, you mindlessly threw in a pack of cigarettes onto the counter, before putting them back in a jerky motion.

“What the hell…” you murmured to yourself, ashamed of what you were about to do. Buy cigarettes - to smoke.

Walking out of the store briskly, you speed-walked home; chiding yourself for almost ‘rewarding’ your no contact mission by smoking, you realized how truly pathetic you were.

“God, what is wrong with me…” you muttered, keeping your head down, watching the wet streets reflect the light of the sun and your dark sorrow.

No matter how long I resist temptation

I will always lose,

Eventually you did buy the cigarettes. You went home, lounging in your bed, a pretty china plate acting like an ashtray for you. Legs up in the air, swinging occasionally, eyes half lidded from the light high, you felt the chalky smoke fill your lungs, watching it come out in little clouds of grey air.

You felt in control for the first time since leaving Oklahoma - the cigarette sitting pretty between your red tinted fingers and lips. You smiled softly, satisfied by finally scoring a small win. You didn’t tell Tyler that you smoked. He’d say it’s a horrible habit you should give up.

Obviously it was more of a lose - giving into an impulse, and now you were at risk of falling deeper into addiction. You weren’t in control, you never really were.

But why would you make yourself feel worse when you were on the literal brink of crumbling?

Although, you didn’t get addicted. After the high wore off, you felt disgusted, throwing out the pack of almost full cigarettes. You wouldn’t tell Tyler, of course.

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing with you

Two weeks went by, and though you pretended everything was okay, it really wasn’t. You didn’t know if you missed Javi or not, but you really didn’t want to.

You don’t know if you want to see the face you loved so much, the face that lights up when he sees Kate, the face that Kate holds, kisses, caresses.. the face that she admires alongside you.

You wanted to get over him, you really did, but you cared so much about him. You didn’t want to stop caring about him, when loving him felt so… lovely.

But it hurt so much.

You barely got any sleep this past fortnight. Having a reverie about the man who daydreamed about another woman. The things you wished he did to you, he did to Kate. He was hers. So assured, so confident. No doubt in that.

For a fortnight, there you were, stripped of any text backs from him.

You were starting to think you just wanted his attention, which you dont know if you wanted anymore, knowing his attention belonged to Kate. Why would you care so much about him texting you?

But then again, weren’t you two friends?

I’ve done the math

There’s no solution

We’ll never last

Why can’t I let go of this?

Right now, you, broken, needed comfort. May it be fake hope again. Nobody was there to stop you anyway, so in your free time, you started to think of the ways Kate and Javi would have problems with each other.

‘She’s too arrogant sometimes, and he’s really down to earth’

‘She can’t communicate her feelings!’

‘Kate’s one to settle, Javi isn’t’

Of course, you knew it was wrong. Of course it was a bitchy thing to think. But who were you to care right now?

You were hurt, and you needed to feel better to even try and start to get a grip on reality. you didn’t want to rip of the band aid yet.

Not yet.

Even worse, your mind started thinking of ways you and Javi could get together; Kate could leave him in the dark again, she could get into a fight with him…

But nothing made sense - she wouldn’t leave when she looked at him that way… and any fights would be cleared quickly with Javi’s forgiving nature.

He would do anything for her.

All in all, you realized how shitty you were being, and texted Tyler, saying you couldn’t hide from Javi - couldn’t hide from the pain that haunted you. The bright lights of LA looked dull. The sun felt like a false light.

Your world was falling apart, how could the sun be shining when your world was falling apart?

‘Just walk around. Wear something that makes you feel good. Grab some good lunch downtown. Spoil yourself. Act like a damn tourist, I don’t care. Just do anything that reminds you that there’s more to life than Javi’ he wrote.

So I broke my promise

I called you last night

I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have

If it weren’t for the sight of a boy who

Looked just like you standing out on Melrose Avenue…

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing, with you.

Three days later, you sat on the roof of a building. The sun was setting, you looked at the streets below. People were walking - their dogs, their toddlers, and whatnot.

You were so disappointed with yourself. Closing your eyes, you thought back to everything that happened yesterday.

Following Tyler’s advice, you woke up ready to face the day.

Waking up bright and early, you went for a run, saw some pretty things on the way. You found it insane how easy it was to overlook the small things in life.

Coming home, you made breakfast; oatmeal with bananas, almond butter and chocolate chips. You savoured every bite with a smile.

You hopped into the shower, using your favourite body wash. Putting on an outfit, doing your hair and makeup, slipping on your shoes, you left the house, ready to explore the city…

All was going well until sunset.

—

You were walking along the streets of LA, acting like you’d never seen anything like it before. A coffee in hand, you walked confidently down the path, turning a corner to browse a bookstore on Melrose Avenue, when someone caught your eye.

A boy, waiting for the light signal to turn green, who looked exactly like Javi.

You froze.

Suddenly, you didn’t want coffee any more. You didn’t want anything right now but to go home.

—

You rushed home, trying so hard to control your breathing, then stumbling desperately to your room. As soon as your face crashed against the pillows, the soft, gentle fabric a perfect medium to absorb the tears now flowing down your face. You sobbed, curled into a still-bedazzled ball on your bed, hugging yourself, contracting into a fibonacci.

Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. Through the wet and blurry lens of your tears, you scrolled into the alphabet until you reached the ‘J’ section. The first name was Javi.

Pressing on his name, then the ‘call’ button, you held it to your ear, taking shuddering breaths as you tried calming yourself down. The your phone cooed like a pigeon, signalling his phone, somewhere in Oklahoma, was ringing.

You were clean. Clean for a little over 2 weeks. Clean from his voice ringing in your ears, new words exchanged and whatnot.

But as you held your phone in your hand, crying, watching it reach Javi’s phone, waiting for him to answer, it all felt like a relapse.

Like the feeling of the cool blade on your skin, slicing through, leaving an angry red river in its wake.

The sick, high feeling you get from it - the ecstasy, watching you destroy yourself, finding beauty in the rubble.

Some part of you, the logical part of you was screaming to press the red button. To leave Javi alone. It wasn’t fair for you to reach out first, right? Why would you make a fool out of yourself by calling him? You’re not that desperate for him, are you?

But the hurt, emotional, desperate part of you didn’t, daring him to answer. Just to remind him of your existence. Just this once.

Still fighting the internal battle, you delved deeper into why he didn’t call you yet.

Did Kate tell him everything? Did she finally find out? Did she realize at all about how hurt you were?

The anger only just started to hit you, claiming your brain as a new population to be corrupted, a new host for the parasite, a new fruit to rot.

You were mad. You didn’t know at who. But you decided you were mad at Kate. For dating him. You knew it was wrong to be mad, because you had no claim over Javi, but you were too deep into your anger to actually think of a better way to cope. Suddenly, you were so mad at Kate. So, so mad. Part of you wanted to tear your house down, scream like a mad woman, but you didn’t. Your dwindling self control kept you in check.

Then came the sadness. You were so mad at Kate, but she was so happy right now. She didn’t care or know how your felt right now. how hurt you felt right now. She had Javi. Her Javi. And they were both happy - oh so happy, oh so blissfully unaware of how you felt right now.

They were happy - they were perfectly fine without you. Because they didn’t need you as a friend, not like they did in college - maybe they didn’t back then either, because they had each other. That’s all they needed. Each other was all they needed.

You were so deep into the crevices of your mind, drowning in both pain and relief, you almost didn’t hear your name drenched in Javi’s voice coming from the speaker.

‘[name]?’

—

follow + stay tuned for part three!!

[winterarmyy]

Never Lie To Me

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: In which Y/N's sinful thoughts towards the Asset is reciprocated.

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x hydra agent!female!reader

Words: 3.4k++

Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, purely smut and lack of plot, honestly. messy writing and lack of dialogue, sorry for that. Others may include probably incorrect russian due to the use of google translate, marking kink (if you squint), metal hand kink, finger-fucking, clit spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, soldat doesn't talk much, i figured he is more reserved but that doesn't mean his actions are (*wink wink*) he is kinda rough but the reader highkey loves it, just bunch of horny pent-up mfs getting some action for once, y'know.

Inspiration: "Cause I can see you waiting down the hall for me and I can see you up against the wall with me." – I Can See You (From The Vault) by Taylor Swift.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N didn't understand why was she sent to this field mission. There were literally dozens of others that were much suitable to do it and yet they chose her of all people? Considering her much leisure job for the past months, which basically just to guard a lab, Hydra seemed to forgot that her body have been lack of combat practice.

She hated this. This mission. This organization. All of it.

Y/N was one of those kids that Hydra stole from the orphanages for their Phantom program; it is where they train, or accurately brainwash, the kids into highly skilled assassin. And she was one of the top 5 out of the program in her batch.

But after a certain incident in one of the mission in Peru, she was temporarily relocated to Siberia to, as they say, "recover" before they can assign get into another mission. There, she was given a much lenient task, which was to guard the lab where the Winter Soldiers were created.

Those few months was both heaven and hell for her; heaven was that she didn't need to be soaked in the blood of the innocent lives and hell was that she had to be a bystander to the cruelty of the dehumanizing process of the Winter Soldier program.

Sure, everything Hydra does to its "followers" are, by nature, imbrute. I mean, she was trained like a dog since she was but a child, but this. This was just another level of evil. Such vile and merciless thing to do to another human being. The muzzles that Hydra shoved in their mouth doesn't really help to reduce the excruciating noises that they made.

Though, while she was physically forced to witness the atrociousness, there was one constant thing that kept her mind off from it all.

They call him the Asset. In fact he was the first one. But she'd rather think of him simply as a man sleeping in a cryo chamber.

Y/N had heard of this "monster", the rumours were terrible as they come and go, but she find it hard to believe that when the soldat had such a calm and kind expression on his face, even if his features were frozen in ice. That was her first impression of him; then day by day, and what felt like ages, she watched him.

Her curiosity got the best of her when she started to think of scenarios and possibilities that the man had quickly became her escape from the horrid reality around her.

Though she spend most of her time trying not to feel it, but the other times, well... the thoughts went a little wild. At one point, they got too personal even for her own mind to comprehend.

After a month of reporting at the new post, she heard the whispers of "thawing the asset" from other agents and scientists around the lab. And surely enough, one of those day, the soldat was brought back from his slumber.

It didn't cross her mind before, of what color laid behind those closed lids. But when she saw his eyes for the first time, she was in complete awe. They were blue as the vast ocean she once jet-skied over; but they were as cold like when she stepped foot at this snow covered facility.

The contrast of his dark hair and tanned skin only makes his bright eyes to become the most prominent feature on his face. And Y/N just couldn't tear her gaze away, especially when the Hydra agent that supposed to retrieve him was making such a big fuss over how slow the soldat was reacting to their commands.

What do they expect? He was literally frozen for lord knows how long just a few seconds ago. Everything must be dissociating for him. So of course, the man's mind and body needs time to adjust.

The soldat abruptly fell on his knees after exiting the chamber, causing one of the guards to strike a kick across his face, "вставай, паршивая собака! (Get up, you lousy dog!)"

And that was it, Y/N had enough of it, "Hey!" she shouted as her stomped towards the guards. The duo quickly stood straight and showed their respect to her; knowing that those who graduated from Phantom program has higher ranking than them.

The moment Y/N found her footing in front of him, the palm of her hand landed harshly across his face, "Do you realized what you just did?" She asked as the taller regained to his prior composure.

"That man!" She pointed at the soldat who was obediently sitting on the floor, "Is Hydra's most prized asset. He alone is worth thousands of you useless scumbags. And you had the audacity to lay your hands on him?!" She roared and the lab fell into silent.

The two guards can only bite on their own tongue knowing what she said was true. The soldat was in fact the Hydra's precious weapon, as for now that he was the only one who successfully weilded the super soldier serum in his veins.

Y/N walked around and stood in front of the soldat, "Are you hurt, soldat?" she asked as her gaze fell on him. His head was hanging low as he bored his empty eyes into the shine of Y/N's black boots; he shook his head and replied, "No, ma'am"

She knew he was lying, especially when she saw the drips of blood on his pants, "Look at me." She ordered in which the soldat complied. And there it was, the source of the mess, the red cut on the corner of his lips. Her frown only deepened when the bruises were slowly forming on his cheek bones.

Y/N crouched to his level, as her hand reaching for his cheeks. His body halted and stiffened when she approached, but only to be surprised by the soft carress of her fingers on his face, "If you're not injured, then what's this?" She whispered lowly; a tone where just the two of them can hear.

The soldat's empty eyes almost melt in hers; he never saw her before, who is she? Why was there so much kindness in her eyes? And why was she holding him so gently?

He let her careful thumb wiped the blood from his chin before whispered again, "Never lie to me, soldat. Do you understand?"  The soldat obediently nodded as a spiral of indescribable emotions stirred within him. His eyes lingered at the way her lips formed into a soft smile, "Good." She praised.

Since then, the soldat's gaze had remain on her almost all the time. From the moment she threatened the two guards, to the time she looked away from the tortured candidates of the Winter Soldier program, to this very second as she undresses every part of her suit.

Though the mission was a success however, their plane was utterly wrecked by an unforeseen mini gun. So they were forced to walk through the snow storm and find shelter at one of Hydra's safe house.

It was not rare for the soldat to be paired with other agents on a mission but never with a woman. Much less the pretty little bunny that he had been obsessing over. Ever since that incident, the soldat often think of her. And he really tried too keep everything professional but something within him changed lately.

One particularly distinct moment that he experienced that made it clear to him; it was when he was waiting in the hall for his handlers to drag him around the facilities, and she happen to walk towards him from the opposite side. And when he brushed pass her, he noticed how his hands was itching to grab her by the neck and push her up against the wall.

As if there was this strong urge to claim her, mark her, fuck her. That was when he realized. The soldat wanted her. He wanted ruin her for everyone else. He wanted her to be his. But, he knew they keep watchful eyes on him. On both of them. And he can't risk that.

But now that she was standing right in front of him, in her underwear no less, how was he supposed to control himself?

Y/N turned her attention towards the soldat, he stood absolutely still that she almost thought he was literally frozen, "Why are you not stripping? Even with that super soldier serum in you, I doubt that you don't feel cold from those snow-soaked clothes."

Maybe it was the dim-lit room, but she swore that the soldat eyes darkened when she walk towards him. Especially when his eyes ranked the way her wet undergarments stick onto her skin.

How many times did she fantasize about the way he was looking at her. How many times did she made herself cum from the thoughts on grinding her cunt into his metal fingers.

Too many to count.

Especially when, in her head, she could see him in his suit with his knives, she could see him throwing his black mask on the floor, she could see him bending her over to his will, she could see him make her want him, crave him, need him.

And whenever their eyes met, she often think of the what-ifs between them. Like, what would he do if she went to touch him now? What would he do if Hydra never found them out? What would he do if they never made a sound?

What would he think if she made him her own personal addiction? Then will he entertain her fantasies by making her his own secret mission?

"Remember what I told you, soldat?" She asked as her hands reached for his mask.

Without hesitation, the soldat replied, "Never lie to you." as his face was bare for her to see.

Y/N took a step forward, so close that he could almost feel her skin on him, "Now tell me, what do you want?" Her eyes found his diluted ones as he lifted his gaze from her cleavage to meet hers.

His cock was rather truthful even from the beginning; now more than before when it twitched painfully in the confinement of his pants. The soldat hissed to the feel of it before he confessed, "I want you."

Y/N couldn't help but to smile, "Then, have me, soldat."

That was all he needed to hear. Her permission to have her, to own her. Then, very next second, he had her body pinned firmly against the wall, his lips on her soft ones, his wet tongue exploring in her mouth.

The soldat had his metal hand gripping the back of her neck, not wanting that pretty head of hers to hit the wall; while the other hand unabashedly teared the bra off from her body.

Breaking the kiss, the soldat's lustful gaze watched how her breasts became bare for him. So pretty and perky. His cock twitched madly as if it was ordering him to touch them, suck on them. And he did just that.

The soldat took her right nipple into his hot mouth while his free hand pawed on the other. Y/N moaned lewdly at roughness of his hand and mouth. When she threw her head back, that was when she saw it. At the corner of the room, she noticed a CCTV camera directly situated towards their direction

She grabbed a handful of his long hair, and lightly tugged him back but he refused to stop sucking on her. Y/N huffed when she whispered, "They're watching us."

That was when the soldat quickly released her from his mouth and quickly hovered his huge body over her, he growled possessively as his quick eyes scanned for all the nearby camera.

Y/N chuckled amusingly at his reaction, "Do you not like it when they watch us?" She teased. The soldat growled again as he pulled her closer, her nipples perked even more now that they touched the cold fabric of his clothes, "Mine. Mine alone." He declared.

Y/N looked up at him with a pair of seductive eyes, "Then, what are you going to do about it?" She taunted. The soldat swiftly pulled his knives out from his thigh strap and threw it directly at the lens of each camera in the room. Now no one would have a chance witness her divine body, or see what her face looks like when he make her cum.

There weren't much of intelligible words that came out of his mouth after that, besides the grumble noises of the word "mine".

The soldat latched her mouth onto her skin, particulary around her neck, collarbone and the valley of her breast. He kissed and licked and sucked to leave his mark on her as his metal hand dug into her hips.

Meanwhile, the flesh of his right hand slide right into her panties. He fingers trailed the outer slit of her cunt; as if he was purposely teasing her, "Зайка (bunny)" he groaned against her neck when he felt how wet she was. She squirmed needily under his hand, when his middle finger poked her entrance while his thumb grazed across her clit.

"So wet, all for me?" He purred as his finger slowly dug into her hole. Y/N whined and grabbed his wrist before he could go any further, "Want your metal fingers, soldat." she slurred deliriously; already drunk with his touches.

It took all his might to not fuck her right there and then when she let him have her. The soldat wanted to treat her gently, prepare her sweetly. Now that she had confessed such sinful desire, something in him just snapped.

He pulled his hand out, and effortlessly ripped her panties from her body before lifting one of her legs up, pushing her thighs towards her body. She yelped at the sudden roughness, embarrassment crept across her spine when the soldat licked his lips at the sight of her cunt, wide open for him.

"Want my metal fingers huh,  Зайка (bunny)?" He trailed his metal fingers along her wet hole, "You got it." He abruptly shoved two of his digits into her, causing her to let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion.

The soldat didn't give her time to adjust, he simply pulled his fingers out to the very tip and thrust it back into her. And he does it again, and again and again. Until the pain turn into sheer pleasure.

When her eyes rolled back and shut close, the soldat growled disapprovingly, "No. Don't close your eyes. Look. Look down. Watch how your wet little hole take my metal fingers. That's it. Look at you. Fuck. Look. At. You." His pace didn't lose its rhythm when he fucked his fingers hard and fast; he curled them just right every time he hit that deep spot inside her.

His metal fingers was better that she had ever imagine, and the sight that she was looking at was so lewd that she was already so overstimulated from it, then when his thumb circled her clit, she thought she was seeing actual stars.

Streams of fluid was squelching everytime he shoved his fingers knuckles deep into her, that it trickled down his hand. It was so messy and the soldat loves it. He want her to be this messy all the time. He wanted to clean her up with his tongue. Lick every drip of her sweet fluid, swollow it like he was thristy and she was water.

At the this point, he would be willing to stay on his knees if it means that he get to have her cunt on his mouth always.

The soldat growled at the way she moaned so shamelessly at how harsh his fingers was violating her sweet pussy. He kept on rubbing on her clit and watched her body shuddered when he slap on it. Seeing her reaction, he continued to spank her clit and he fucked her harder; one, two, three, four, until she cried out a long moan and her pussy gushed with her creamy cum.

And seeing how her body trembled, her cream dripping out onto his hand, the soldat almost combust in his pants. Though apart of him wanted to feel her sweaty skin on his own, another just wanted to feel her warm pussy.

So, instead of wasting more of his time undressing himself, the soldat hurriedly unzipped his pants to release his aching cock out. He pulled his finger out and licked her cum clean while his other hand lazily pumped his leaking length, "Taste so good, Зайка (bunny). Bet you feel good too."

Y/N whined at his action, he looked so hot and bothered. And something about him fully clothed while pumping his needy cock for her; it just drives her to near feral. She let out an exasperated gasp when the soldat maneuvered her legs to cling around his waist, while his hand gripped on her hips. Her voice then stuck on her throat when he thrust his cock deep inside in one stroke.

His size was stretching her out so much that it burned, a good type of burn; in fact, the best type. The soldat on the other hand almost burst his cum the moment he entered her. She felt so good. Better that his rough hands when he jerked off to the though of her. But he was determined to make her cum on his dick before he get his own high.

So without letting her adjust to his size, he slowly pulled out and harshly slammed right back into her; fuck does it feel so good. And her mewling so needily for him does not help the situation at all. He repeated the same thing over and over until he managed to suck up his need to cum, then fasten his pace. And the sound of her wetness rubbing against his cock when he pounded into her was so damned and sinful, that never wanted to forget.

Her back repeatedly hit the wall from the force of his thrust that she needed to hold on his shoulders for support. His pace was fast and deep, almost erratic. Her moans broken when she felt the tip of her cock ramming at her womb, her walls clenching in delight to welcome such huge and hot length inside her. Every stroke was perfect and if she had no self-control she would be cumming each time the soldat forced his cock into her.

His hips slapped against her and she eagerly followed his every thrust, desperate to meet his skin as much as he was for her. And when she looked up to him, the soldat was looking directly into her. His ocean blues dove into her soul as his grunts tangled with her cries.

His breathing stuttered and his pace flatter. She could tell he was getting close. But, the soldat refused to; not until she cum first.

In and out. In and out. His pace became brutally delicious. Her nerves were stretching so good that her toes curled and that was when she felt the coil forming. Short needy pants left her lips, each one was a sign that she was getting closer to ecstacy, "I'm cumming, soldat. Please,, don't stop."

The soldat groaned, "Don't hold back." He pounded into her impossibly harder; and the delicious drag of his cock continued to punish her into pure ecstasy, forcing her cum to leak out and lather around his throbbing length, "That’s it, Cum for me, Зайка (bunny). Cum for your soldat,, ahh fuck so tight, i'm cumming too, ahh." The soldat chased his own release as continued to thrust inside her clenching hole.

"Fuckkkk i'm cumming inside you, Зайка (bunny). Will mark you mine with my cum. Ahhh ahhh fuckk", the soldat moaned to the addictive feel of her cunt milking him, and soon after when it hits him, his cock throbbed wildly as his cream leaked from the tip, endlessly filling her womb full with his warm cum.

Y/N whined to the amount of warm fluid spreading inside her. And when she thought his slowed thrust was a sign of an end, she couldn't be wrong. The soldat slowly pulled his cock out to the very tip, just pound it back into her. He groaned at the sight of his creamy cum spilling out, circling where his cock was stuffing her. Then he does it again, and again.

Until she started to moan for him, "hmmm,, s-soldat?" She hoped that he would explain himself.

His dark eyes only glint with lust and greed when a small smiled curved on his lips, "Oh, Зайка (bunny), I'm not done with you until I mark every part of you as mine."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: This scene has been played out in my head the whole day when Speak Now (TV) came out. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this short read! Drop some thought behind for me would you?

[chrisevansonly]

Oooh, what about a holiday just for Charles and Matteo, toddler and father spending time together during a week of holiday just wuth them two? 💖

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐮)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: it’s tradition for charles and matteo to hit the slopes every christmas eve, and you didn’t mind letting your boys have their fun

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, very fluffy sweetness

𝐚/𝐧: merry christmas eve!! here’s a little karter blurb for christmas eve!! i love this family so much, and i hope you enjoy🤍

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Your boys were all packed and ready to make the drive to the airport in Nice, the two of them off to ski and snowboard in France for the day. It had been a Christmas Eve tradition for the two of them, while you had Charlotte over to bake and cook with you.

Christmas eve dinner was always at your home, and Christmas day was at Pascale’s in order to split the holiday duties! Matteo was excited to go skiing with his father, well he preferred to snowboard.

“Okay my loves, be safe and have fun!” you said kissing Charles gently and handing him some snacks for the airplane, turning to kiss Matteo’s forehead

“Matteo, n’oubliez pas d’écouter papa, d’accord?” (matteo, don’t forget to listen to daddy)

He nodded

“Oui Maman!! Je t’aime!!” (yes mom, i love you)

Smiling you walked them to the door

“I love you too baby, i’ll see you tonight”

Charles nods, grabbing the last of their things

“See you tonight amour, I love you”

Once the two of them were out the door you pulled your phone out and called Charlotte, the baking and cooking fiasco about to commence.

-

Charles and Matteo arrived arrived to the ski hill around mid morning, the two of them excited to hit the slopes and get out into the sun.

“Papa can we do that hill first?” Matteo said excitedly, pointing to the red circle hill to the left

“You want to start with a harder hill petit prince?”

Matteo nodded

“Oui Papa!!” (yes daddy)

Who was Charles to say no to his little boy who was so eager to get to snowboarding, up they went, Matteo giggling the entire chairlift up, happy to be back in the snow.

Once they got to the top of the mountain Charles noticed his son stop, his hands wringing together in his mitts, eyes a little wide, he could see his anxiety from a mile away so he was quick to sit next to him, ski’s at his side

“Qu’est-ce qui ne va pas, bébé?” His voice soft as he softly pinched Matteo’s cheek, causing the little boy to smile and scrunch his face (what’s wrong baby?)

“C’est plus effrayant que je ne le pensais papa…” he responded, looking at his father (it’s scarier than i thought daddy..)

“Hmm well do you want to try it anyway or do you want to go down to the blue hill?”

Matteo stayed quiet, really wanting to be brave and show his father he could do it, he was tired of only snowboarding down the blue hills

“I want to try it papa”

Charles couldn’t help but feel proud of Matteo for wanting to try it despite the slight anxiety he’d been feeling once they arrived at the top of the mountain

“Okay then, remember how to slow down, and if you need to stop you stop if you need too, I promise i’ll go down with you the whole way”

Matteo nodded before getting up and taking off down the hill, moving at his own pace as he took on the harder hill, navigating around bumps and tree’s. Charles not far behind him, keeping an eye on the little boy to make sure he was okay.

They’d only stopped one time on the hill before making it to the bottom, Matteo squealing happily

“Je l’ai fait papa!!! Tu m’as vu?!” (i did it daddy! did you see me?!)

Charles laughed nodding his head as Matteo waddled over still attached to his snowboard to hug his legs

“Tu as réussi petit prince! Je suis si fière de toi” (You did little prince, i’m so proud of you!)

Matteo smiled hugging Charles’s legs a little tighter, happy at the praise he was receiving

“Can we go again?” came his voice, muffled from his fathers sweatpants

“Of course we can Teo…let’s go”

Charles loved these little traditions with Matteo, getting able to take him skiing and letting him experience fun holiday activities like this is something he was so grateful for. Matteo loved these just as much, and the two of them knew as soon as they’d arrive home, the family would be waiting and they could finally have some of your famous gingerbread cookies, the best way to end the Christmas Eve ski day.

No two people were bigger gingerbread fans than your boys, and you can never skip out on a cookie after hitting the slopes all day…

[bigtreefest]

Marshmallow Dream

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader

Summary: A rainy day can still be a good one if the right person knows how to turn it around. Jake is perfect for that.

Word count: 2,562

Content/warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, unhealthy eating habits, feeding a partner pizza, cockwarming, p in v sex, light nipple worship, indoor flames, what’s a word for a mixture between smut and fluff?, crying, torrential downpour, swears

A/N: Written for my 300 follower summer celebration. Prompts include: rain spoils summer outdoor plans and bonfire.

Jakey never leaves my mind. You know that. Enjoy dear hoes. I luv you. A special thanks to @stargazingfangirl18, I told you, I swear I don’t hate the CE babes😉

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are so appreciated. Thank you for reading!!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist

Today was not off to a great start. You forgot to set your alarm clock before you went to sleep last night, so you left for work late after scrambling to get into clothes you weren’t fully sure were clean. In your haste, you forgot to grab your lunch, and with endless meetings, you had no time to go out and get one at the office, either, so you were stuck with a grumbling tummy throughout the entire day, a product of not really eating breakfast, either. You didn’t drink any water, your bottle sitting empty on the corner of your desk, and hardly had the time to stretch your legs between meetings twice, but were ready to go home as soon as the clock hit the mark.

The thing was, in your marathon of work, you’d hardly looked out the window. At some point between a call with Russia and a talk with your boss, the sky had opened up. Rain poured and hit the glass in sheets. You had no idea how you hadn’t heard it thus far. It was like a monsoon, and that’s when your phone went off with the severe thunderstorm warning. Great. Just as you were ready to head home. And to top it all off, your car was at the far side of the parking lot because you got in so late today. If one more thing went wrong, you were going to combust. You just knew it.

You looked out the window one last time, gathering your things, and let out a huff. Well, fuck it. The weather report you pulled up on your phone showed no signs of stopping for the next several hours, which was a total contrast to the way it said clear skies earlier this morning. Might as well make a run for it then, before the nearby river flooded the parking lot and engulfed your car. You just needed to get home. That was it. It would be fine.

Well, it wasn’t really fine, was it? Your drive home took way longer than usual, as you passed accident after accident, causing traffic and a slow meandering pace. You would’ve rather had that instead of crazy drivers, though, who went way too fast for weather conditions like this. But every call you tried to make home to Jake failed because of the cloudy skies disrupting your signal. And then, your phone died because you forgot to charge it last night, of course.

You finally returned home an hour later on a drive that was supposed to be twenty minutes and parked in the driveway, throwing your forehead on the steering wheel. You were trying to build up the courage to go inside. It wasn’t because the rain was still pouring. Your clothes, and now your drivers seat, were already thoroughly soaked, but it was the fact that Jake’s niece was there.

She wasn’t bad, or a terror, she was actually a delight, but after the day you had, there was no way you held the energy to keep a smile on and entertain her. With a sigh, you opened the door, rushing into the house, hoping you, and your resolve, didn’t crumble from the rain.

Jake was in the kitchen stretching out pizza dough when he heard the door open. He brushed off his floury hands on his apron before untying it and hanging it on the hook, meeting you in the hall.

He’d expected you to be home awhile ago, and none of his calls and texts seemed to be going through, but he’d figured you were just running late, and apparently he was right.

The view he was met with was…out of the ordinary. You were standing there, work bag in hand, soaked clothes draping off your body, and hair matted down as your shoulders slumped. Normally, he would’ve laughed at the sight of you looking like a drowned rat, water dripping onto the floor in a puddle, and especially if it were one of his buddies, but when he caught a glimpse of your face, he came rushing towards you.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

His hands flew to your shoulders as he checked you once over, trying to see if anything was physically wrong. You shrugged and shook your head, then tried to give off a fake smile, although it was more of a grimace, in anticipation of his niece running in your direction at any second.

“Nothing, nothing Jake. Just a long day at work, but where’s our little visitor, is she excited for a sleepover?”

You were looking over his shoulders back into the house to see if she was waiting somewhere else, but it was quiet, besides the faint music playing from the kitchen speaker.

“No, baby. The concert got rained out so my sister and her friends are staying home. So it’s just you and me tonight. And if I’m being honest, you look like you need it.”

You dragged your eyes from the floor up to meet his. His brows were pulled together in concern, bright blue irises darting all over your face from behind his glasses. At his care, you couldn’t help how you broke down.

You threw your head into this neck and sobbed as Jake pulled you closer, one hand flat and rubbing you between the shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of your head as you let it all out and told him about your day where nothing could go right.

Rain water was seeping into his clothes from yours, but that was the least of his worries right now. Jake was so sweet about it all, comforting you and whispering reassurances of active listening in your ear, holding you tight until your shoulders stopped shaking from the gasps.

“I know, I know, baby. It’s okay. You’re home now, I’m gonna take care of you, alright?”

He pulled away and put his hands on your cheeks so you could see him. “Why don’t you go take a shower. I don’t care if you strip right here, I’ll take care of it all. I’ll lay you out some dry, comfy clothes, finish up dinner, and you and me can have a nice, relaxing night together in the living room. Sound good?”

You sniffled and nodded your head, as Jake softly smiled at you and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “Atta girl. Take as long as you need to, okay? There should be plenty of hot water. You do what you gotta do. And if you need me, call my name.”

You shuffled off towards the bathroom, shucking off your clingy clothing piece by piece, leaving a sopping wet trail, as Jake got to work.

When you emerged from your shower into the steamy bathroom, a warm, plush towel and clothes were sitting on the sink. You reveled in the softness and the scent of the materials. The sweatpants and shirt laying there, folded with military precision, were Jake’s. Your favorite. You brushed your hair and slipped it on, along with a nice pair of fresh socks and padded out to the living room.

You expected to see Jake just lounging there, one of his favorite discovery shows on the TV, but you were met with something totally different. Definitely not your everyday view. The first thing to hit was was the sweet smell of tomato sauce. The next thing you noticed was the video of a crackling bonfire playing on the TV, and in your line of sight just below that was a pillow and blanket fort made out of the couch. Emerging from behind the sheet that served as the fort’s roof popped a set of frosted tips, slowly ascending, making way for your boyfriend’s smiling face.

“Hi honey, all better?”

You nodded and beamed back at him, happiness rising in your stomach, dissipating the storm clouds that had overtaken your mind all day. You waltzed around the end of the couch and over to him, when your eye caught the spread on the coffee table: fresh, homemade pizza next to a sweet-smelling lit candle and a tray with all the necessary materials for s’mores, beautifully and methodically arranged. It must’ve been what he planned to have for his niece, especially if the rain had held off enough to make a fire in the backyard, but it didn’t cheapen the gesture at all.

Your eyes began to tear up, and you pointed your gaze back to Jake, seeing his nervous and tentative demeanor. You didn’t think it was possible, but you loved him more right now than ever before. You needed him right now, more than you’d realized, so you pounced, tackling the heap of muscle into the pile of pillows scattering the living room, turned on by the domestic gesture.

Jake was taken aback, eyes wide in surprise before they fluttered shut when your lips greedily met his. He was pinned down, almost, your hips straddling him as your hands roamed everywhere, pushing up his shirt so you could tuck your fingers under the band of his underwear and sweatpants, shoving them down his thighs. You were speaking in whispers while still keeping your mouth pressed up against his.

“Thank you. It’s perfect. I love you. Need to show you.”

Jake hummed and pulled away from you as much as he could, gasping in deep breaths and watching the way your hand stroked up and down his length, already half hard from your actions. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, stopping the motion as he pressed his eyes closed and swallowed, gathering himself.

“Baby, baby, wait. Hold on. I get it, and I appreciate it so much that you wanna make me feel good, but I need to take care of you first. You need to eat.”

You whined, hand still trying to move despite his soft, yet strong hold on you. Jake let out a small huff with the little hopeful smile he gave you, but you were unrelenting.

“If you really cared about me, you’d be inside me right now, Jakey.”

His face grew into a mischievous grin. “I’m going to try and not take that as a jab at the significance of the beautiful spread I made for you, but that’s besides the point. I think we can find a compromise, honey.”

His hands stroked over the softness of your hips as he looked up at you with a raised brow. You bit your lip and leaned in for a peck, nipping at his lower lip as you retreated, relishing in the groan he unsuccessfully stifled.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Your voice was smooth and sultry, in contrast to the rough, strained words that came out of Jake next.

“Yes, baby. If you’re good, you can warm my cock while I feed you pizza, which I slaved over all day, and you and I can make some candle s’mores. And once you’ve had your fill and I decide that your soft tummy is nice and full, you have me for whatever you want. Deal?”

You tapped a finger on your lip, acting like you were contemplating the flawless offer, before nodding and leaning in for another kiss. “Deal. But I refuse to lift a finger. Gotta save my energy to ruin you.”

You didn’t miss the way Jake’s teeth gritted in restraint at that statement, but he nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now open up, love.”

You didn’t miss the double entendre as he helped you to slip off your sweatpants and comfy underwear. You resettled into this lap and closed your eyes, just letting yourself feel him as his tip caught your entrance, slowly sliding in and stretching you as you did your best to release all the tension in your body to take him as deep as possible.

Four slices of pizza and some progressive squirming later, you were leaning in to kiss Jake, testing the waters with a circle of your hips. His fingertips dug into your ass as he gave you a warning glance.

“Not yet, sweetie. S’mores first?” You huffed, but assented, leaning back as he shifted forward to gather everything needed, holding the marshmallow on a small stick above the flickering flame. You made one, as well, for him so the two of you could share in having them at the same time.

The background held the sounds of rain pelting the windows, mixed with the crackling fire of the TV, while you waited for the marshmallows to toast.

Jake fed you a bite first, though, watching as a string of marshmallow pulled from between your mouth and his fingers before kicking up onto your cheek. Your eyes squinted slightly at the interesting flavor as Jake’s thumb swiped off the melted mallow and rested at your lips. You took his finger into your mouth, looking straight into his eyes but he couldn’t pull his eyes from your lips, as you released his thumb with a pop.

Jake smiled up at you again, this time with eyes half-lidded as you felt his dick twitch inside of you. “How is it, honey?”

You huffed a small breath out of your nose as you laughed a little. “Waxy.”

Jake winced at your admittance and the way your body shifted as you turned around to look at the candle. You faced him again as he set down the s’more.

“Marshmallow dream.”

Jake tilted his head to the side. “What? Is that like a new nickname for me or something?”

You giggled and shook your head. Jake admired you as he observed your response, a satisfaction brewing deep inside of him that he helped you reach this good mood again after the day you had.

“No, silly. It’s the candle scent. Marshmallow dream. Although, I don’t think it would be an inaccurate name for you. You’re a big softie, and totally dreamy. Not to mention sweeter than any treat.”

You wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck, leaning in for another slow, deep kiss, smile still on your face as you listened to his soft breaths become moans, then groans, then near-growls as he devoured you.

Jake flipped the two of you over and you squealed at the sudden motion, feeling the pillows cushion your back. You needed that, though, as his first thrust hit you hard, practically knocking the wind out of you as you screamed in pleasure. Jake couldn’t help the way his pent-up energy manifested. All that self-control had to go somewhere, but now he was smoothly rolling his hips against yours, keeping you filled and beyond satisfied. His fingertips traced up your hips and soft tummy, pulling your shirt up with them, as your hands ran through his hair.

He pushed the fabric above your chest, leaning in and sucking a nipple into his mouth, massaging the other in his hand as his tongue danced across the skin. Your breathing was getting heavier by the minute, music to his ears as he turned his head, face still pressed to your soft skin.

“These, baby. These are my marshmallow dream.”

You giggled and slapped his shoulder playfully, allowing him to continue on, take whatever he wanted because he deserved it. And he did take you, all night, shrouded in a pillow fort of comfort, fairy lights, and unbridled love.

Bonus A/N: I’ve had an idea similar to this swirling in my head for awhile, I think I said something of the like in an ask, but I can’t find it now. Anyway, when a candle burns, wax vaporizes, which is why it likely caught on the marshmallows hovering above the flame. Yuck, but at least the candle fit the theme? 😂

Related: Jake’s Rough Days That Should Be Me

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: after your first encounter, joel turns into an asshole every time you're around. when tommy makes you two go out on patrol together, it turns into a muddled mess. turns out, he didn't hate you at all, he just sucks at emotions.

Part 2/3

FIND PART 1 HERE

PART 2 HERE

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, killing of infected (including a child), blood, some LIGHT gore, age gap (more specified in this part), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, pet names, joel is still a menace to society and a jerk

Author's Note: Thank you thank you thank you!! you all are so fabulous and sweet. I'm gonna make a masterlist soon, so be on the lookout. I'm also starting a tag list so, if you want to be included, please let me know! All feedback is welcomed. I love you all sm.

I came prepared for absolution if you'd only ask

So I take some offense when you say, "No regrets"

I remember it's impossible to pass your test

But I'm trying to forget about it

Feelin' like I'm breaking a sweat about it

Wishin' you would kindly get out of my head about it

Tellin' myself one day I'll forget about it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want Joel on more of your patrols. 

The patrols after your night together ended up being filled with unspoken sexual tension. You’d go home sexually frustrated and hungry for more, but you were never bold enough to make a move. And to be real, you weren’t sure if you should. He’d say something about keeping your shoulders straight when you shot, you’d say something stupid like “make me” and he’d spit back with, “I may just do that, girl.”

But it never went anywhere. 

Even if you tried to make a pass, he’d make an excuse or remind you that you two were strictly working at the moment. 

You once invited him over after a particularly long shift, wanting some relief from the ache between your thighs.

“Got things to get done at home,” He said, “Maybe another time.”

So after that week of patrols, you were suddenly never on his patrols again. You were put on the exact opposite shifts, actually. You had some sneaking suspicions that he asked Tommy to switch it up. He stopped looking at you during morning meetings and eventually you decided to drop the whole idea of him.

It still crossed your mind every time you saw him, though. How he felt on your lips. How his body felt connected with yours.

Your breathing would change every time you reminisced on your time together. He would consume your mind for brief periods and you couldn’t get away. You kept telling yourself that time would lessen the blow, but it never did. 

So you tried your best to forget. 

On one particularly chilly morning, you head to your scheduled time at the stables. You’d be going out with Jesse this time around. He was a newcomer, a real sweetie. Tommy wanted you to teach him all you knew about patrolling and securing certain areas. 

But when you arrive, you notice Tommy, Joel, and Jesse all standing around waiting. You hadn’t said much to Joel the last couple weeks, only a wave or a quiet mumbled hello. His back was turned to you, but you knew those shoulders and back all too well.

“Are we all going out this morning?” You question, adjusting your braid on your shoulder. Joel turns to you, not expecting your voice to come up behind him. His eyebrows furrow at your presence. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy smiles, “You and Joel are gonna be going up to the ski lodge. Heard there’s a hoard or two out there, they need to be cleared.”

“I thought you said I was going with Jesse?” Joel speaks up a bit too quickly. Tommy’s words caught you off guard, so you just stand there waiting for him to respond to Joel, but it never comes.

You swallow, clearing your throat.

“No, I was supposed to go out with Jesse, actually.”

Jesse looks at everyone confused.

He was a cute kid. 20 years young, fresh faced, ready to take on anything. He had all this energy, something you wish you still had. Now you had a bad back, fucked knees, and a terrible sleeping schedule. You were only about 10 years older than him and you’re falling apart. 

“We can all just go together?” Jesse offers, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. You knew that’d be shot down quick, especially when it came to a newbie. If there’s infected, we never throw the new guys into the pits of hell. They’d never want to patrol again. 

Tommy shakes his head, “No, I want her and Joel to clear that area before I take you that route. They know it well. We are going to head towards the power plant. We have to bring back some supplies I have stored there.”

Joel’s eyes could laser Tommy in half at that moment. He was pissed and completely blindsided.

You surrendered to the idea, too tired to argue and fight about something so stupid. You also didn’t question their orders, simply because they knew better than you. You wanted to make sure Jackson was safe, just like everyone else.

You gesture Jesse to give the brothers some time alone, motioning towards the horses. You’d at least make sure the horses were ready for his trip out with Tommy. He grabs the reins of two horses, walking them outside towards the front gate. You grab the other two horses, doing the same thing. 

He took notice to your tired eyes, “You okay going out today? You look tired.”

“Wow, Jesse,” You laugh, “I thought I looked great this morning when I woke up.”

He instantly starts to backpedal, not picking up your joke. You shake your head, trying to talk over all his apologies. 

“I’m just messin’ Jesse. I am tired, but I’ll be okay, don’t you worry.”

He smiles, nudging your shoulder a bit. 

“You just gave me a heart attack,” He chuckles, “You sure though? Even with Joel?”

You glance over at the Millers, watching them argue about whatever Joel was truly mad about. You knew in your head it was because he didn’t want to be around you. The feeling was becoming mutual. You never wanted to make anything awkward or difficult, but you guess that’s exactly what you did. 

You just shrug. Jesse takes that as your response, grabbing the reins of your horse and handing them over to you. 

“You stay safe out there,” He says, “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You couldn’t help but snicker, “No need to worry about that, dude.”

–

Oh, but was he getting under your skin. 

You initially just nod at every direction he makes at you, remembering that it was like this before anyway. But then he starts to undermine every suggestion you made. 

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“We will be back before sundown, you know that. Don’t be dumb about it.”

“Stoppin’ would be dumb as hell. You can wait.”

You had been begging for 30 minutes to stop and pee. He was not giving in to anything you’d say. After awhile, you could not hold it anymore. You pull your horse to the side of the trail, not even saying anything to him. You dismount the horse, holding the reins for a moment before you hang them on a branch nearby. 

“What are you doin’?” He spits, noticing you off your horse. You come around the horse, giving him a deadly glare. You grab your pack, finding some cloths you bring on your patrols so you can wipe and throw away. 

“I have to fuckin’ pee, Joel. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Get back on your horse,” He demands, his posture getting more stiff. 

You shake your head, unbuttoning your jeans and turning back to a private area behind a tree. You remember the moments before kissing Joel for the first time. Him telling you how great your ass looked in your jeans. You grimace. 

You tug down your pants and squat. 

You relieve yourself, quickly using your cloth to wipe when you finish. You toss it behind you, standing up in your spot and turning around to head back to your horse. 

You realize Joel is off his horse, bounding towards you. He grabs your arm, pulling you to face him. 

“Why don’t you fuckin’ listen?” He says through gritted teeth. 

It took everything in you not to fucking snap. You wanted to pull away and scream and yell and throw something at him. But instead your heart just started racing at the contact his hand made with your skin and you physically couldn’t do anything. 

He realizes you’re caught off guard. He didn’t grab you hard, just enough shake you a bit to get your attention on him and only him. His facial expression changes as he drops your arm, stepping back a couple of paces. It’s like he realized he was being a bit too aggressive. Maybe it was your expression that brought him back down from whatever pedestal he thought he was on. 

“Don’t touch me,” Is all you could think to say. He wasn’t even touching you anymore but you still felt him all over you. 

He just nods. 

You look down at yourself, realizing your pants are still unbuttoned. You look back up at Joel who’s staring at your panties peaking through your unzipped jeans. His eyes travel back up to yours. You decide to slowly button them back up. 

You don’t hear what he says when he peels his eyes away and walks back to his horse. Probably some asshole comment that was better said under his breath.

You both get back on your horses and continue to the ski lodge in silence. Before you scale the one side of the mountain, you hear something. 

You keep your eyes peeled for infected. You are almost positive that’s what you’re hearing so you whistle to catch Joel’s attention. You nod to your left, which is the direction you hear the familiar clicking. You grab your rifle from your side saddle, gesturing to Joel to do the same.

You always get this rush when you have to kill infected. It’s not a good rush at all, it’s pure adrenaline. 

You dismount again, making sure your horse is tied to a nearby tree. Joel is close behind you as you creep forward towards the noise. The woods are dense with trees but there is also a ton of rock formations that were usually excellent cover.

The clicking gets louder and so does the sound of your heartbeat. 

“There,” Joel whispers, gesturing towards a rock. You kneel, creeping up the formation and looking down. There you see not one, not two, but three clickers wondering around a dead deer. It was torn to shreds, blood everywhere. You weren’t bothered by blood at all, it was just the sick smell of decay that got you a bit queasy. You draw your gun up, aiming it towards the clicker closest to you. 

“On three,” You murmur to Joel. You knew that you’d had to shoot two at the same time to give you enough time to kill the third with a quick reload. 

Joel just nods, drawing his gun up. 

“One,” Breath in, “Two,” Hold, “Three” Breath out.

The sounds of guns sent the clicking sounds to an all time high. Your ears are ringing, but you instinctively cock your gun, releasing one shell. 

You aim, firing your weapon at the third and final clicker. You hear Joel yell something, but your ears are still ringing. 

Then it hits you. 

“Three more!” 

Every time you’re in a fight or flight situation, you always fight. Old you would run. 

You bring your weapon up, noticing Joel’s new position on the boulder. He’s aiming and firing at some infected down hill who are quickly running at you two. 

You refocus in searching the area behind you. The last thing you needed was a sneak attack from a stalker. One enters your eye line and you fire. You keep count of how many bullets you have. Three down, four more left. 

“Got two on your right!” 

You hear Joel’s directions, drawing your weapon up and shooting another stalker between the eyes. The last one was a child, which was always the hardest. You knew that there was no choice, so you pull the trigger, which sent the child flying backwards. You wince a bit, seeing that this was probably just a family who got caught in the wrong situation. You killed all of them in less than a minute. Life wasted. 

Silence fills the air, your ears still ringing from endless gunfire. You turn back to Joel who’s breathing heavily and holstering his gun. 

You never had to question Joel’s abilities, which made him an excellent patrol partner. He knew exactly how to react in high risk situations. 

He made you feel safe. 

“Looks like we found one of the hoards Tommy was talking about,” He says, walking up to you, “Lets hope it’s just the one.”

“Glad it was you with me and not Jesse,” You say, relaxing your arm. 

“That kid would be dead by now.”

-

When you’re less than a mile from your stop, you notice some storm clouds taking over the beautiful summer sky. The air starts to change. The wind begins to pick up, blowing your braid back and tickling your bare neck. The air smells like rainwater, sweet and pungent. 

You use the silence to think about how simple life use to be. You reminisce about your childhood that was cut too short. You were a young adult when the infection started so you hadn’t been able to get married or settle down with a family. Everything was ripped away from you so prematurely and deep down, you crave that simplicity. Get married, have children, die of old age. 

If only you could’ve lived in a world where you didn’t have to kill a child because some random ass fungus took over their humanity.  

“We are almost there,” Joel says finally, pulling you out of your thoughts, “We may have to ride out the storm.”

You just nod even though he can’t see you. 

The ski lodge was actually very beautiful. It was one of two that was used as a safe house for patrols, this one being your personal favorite. You had been there with Tommy once and he gave you the grand tour. It was reasonably clean for being so old, stocked full of canned items, and had very comfy beds. 

You start to bring your horses to the covered back porch when it starts to rain. You grab all your gear, slinging it over your shoulder. Joel jingles a key out of his pocket, racing to the sliding glass doors. He unlocks the door, ripping it open as soon as the rain picks up. You both make it in the quiet lodge, setting your belongings on the kitchen counter. 

“I’m going to get the lanterns up and running,” You mumble, heading towards the living room where all the lanterns were scattered about. Joel locks the sliding glass door, before he starts rummaging through his bag. 

You turn on as many lanterns as you can, lighting up the room with warm glow. 

You find your way onto one of the couches, kicking your boots off. 

“Want me to start a fire? We may have to hang out the rest of the night if that storm don’t let up,” Joel questions, sliding his jacket off his shoulders. 

You shrug, “Don’t matter.”

He starts to pile up some wood as you find an apple in your bag. You watch him slowly pace back and forth from the wood pile to the huge stone fireplace. You watch his back muscles flex when he picks up a piece of wood. You were using him as a distraction to get you away from those dark thoughts from earlier. 

You bite into your apple. 

“You bring anythin’ for me?”

Is he fucking with you?

“There’s canned peaches in the cabinets.”

He laughs, lighting the wood with a match. You watch the fire build and build as he messes with the wood. He was squatting, his shirt riding up a bit. Even his lower back was eye catching. 

“You don’t wanna share?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not sharin’ anything with you.”

He turns back to you with a smirk playing on his lips, “Not even a better look at those panties you’re wearing?”

You couldn’t believe your ears. 

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, sweetheart.”

You did hear him, of course, but were in denial of the actual intentions behind the words. He creeps closer, finding a spot on the couch next to you. You take another bite of your apple, staring at him with curiosity. 

Was he being serious?

You contemplate your options. Do you play into the game? Do you resist and possibly regret it later? He was such an asshole earlier. But then again, he always is. He was before you slept with him. So was that a valid excuse to not play into the game?

You remember the ache between your legs last night after reading a smutty romance novel. You imagined the characters as you and Joel, yet you never wanted to admit it. You knew that you wanted this, but resisting to give him a taste of his own medicine would be satisfying, too.

“Ya know,” He ponders, leaning over to meet your eyes, “I still have your other pair you left at my house.”

You remember the slight panic you felt the morning after when you couldn’t find them. You knew damn well he’d find them somewhere, but you didn’t think he’d keep them. 

“Didn’t even know I left them,” You lie, your eyes averting away from him. 

You were a horrible liar. 

“You’re pretty cute when you lie, sweetheart,” He grabs your chin, tilting your face back to his, “You left them on purpose. Thought you’d use that as an excuse to come crawling back to me.”

He was being smug, you knew that. For some reason, you don’t cave immediately even though the conversation was making you tingle.

“Crawling back to you? Why would I do that?” You question, “When I have all these other guys who will gladly take up my offers.”

He smiles smugly, “Hm, that doesn’t seem very like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t seem like the type of girl to whore yourself out to a bunch of assholes.”

His finger traces your lower lip, catching it and pulling down. You don’t pull away, soaking up the intense tension in the air. 

“You don’t know me, Joel Miller.”

He just stares at your mouth, “I know enough.”

You want to lean in further, push your lips on his and finally surrender to him. But you hold on for a few more seconds. You’re practically quivering under his touch, wanting nothing more to just cut the shit and jump on top of him.

“You told me not to touch you earlier,” he mumbles, “But here you are just fumblin’ over yourself every time I touch ‘ya.”

“Will you just shut the fuck up and kiss me?”

His touch becomes rougher, his one arm pulling you into his lap, the other hand grabbing your face roughly. 

“You start talkin’ like that you get nothin’,” his breathing fans your face, blowing your baby hairs away from your forehead, “Be a good girl like before.”

You squirm a bit, trying to lift your head in defiance. It doesn’t work, he has a good grip on you. His eyes are dark as he adjusts you so you are practically mounted on his lap. He releases your face bringing his hand down to your neck. He pulls you down to his lips, connecting them feverishly. 

You couldn’t help yourself. You melt into him, your hands wrapping around his neck before sliding them down his chest. His hips are practically rutting into yours. You grind down, moaning out at the contact. You knew that being disobedient wouldn’t get you anywhere, so to get what you want, you knew you’d have to play into his dominance. 

He smiles into the kiss, knowing you have been waiting for this moment. 

You pull away, pulling your shirt off. He’s looking at you like you’re his next meal. You kind of are. 

“Missed these tits,” He says his hands resting on your ribcage, right under your bare breasts, “Best ones I’ve ever seen.”

“Joel,” You groan, fumbling for the button on your pants, “Need you. Bad.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I know baby.”

He fondles you for a second before latching his lips around your left nipple. His tongue swirls around it before he slightly bites it. You arch your back, wanting more from him but he just pulls away. You roll off his lap, tugging your pants down, including your underwear. 

“Ah,” He’s not even paying attention to you butt naked all spread for him, instead he’s leaning down to your pile of clothes. He grabs your panties, holding them up, “Baby pink. You fuckin’ tease.”

“Joel,” You whine, nudging him with your foot, “Enough about my underwear.”

He runs his hands up your leg before standing up and discarding his own shirt and pants. He leaves his briefs on, his cock tenting the gray fabric. 

“So eager,” he mocks, “What do you want from me, baby girl? Hm?”

You smile at the million of thoughts running through your head. But you settle for words that you know will drive him wild. 

“Do whatever you want to me, Joel.”

He pulls you to the edge of the couch. He’s on his knees like he’s about to pray at the altar to whatever God may exist. Instead, he’s between your legs, speckling your thighs with scratchy kisses. His salt and pepper hair is messy, his sunkissed bare arms highlighted with some freckles. You never noticed them before. 

“‘M gonna need your mouth,” He mumbles, raising his fingers to your mouth. You grab his wrist with your hands, lifting his fingers to your lips. You suck on every one, releasing each one with a pop. He watches you with his lips slightly agape, almost hypnotized by the action. 

He uses his newly wet fingers to trace your slit before he uses his pointer and middle finger to spread your lips. He’s playing with you, making you writhe underneath his touch. You lift your hips a bit, which causes him to lay his free arm across your lower stomach. 

“Patience, sweetheart,” He gives your pussy one lick, “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

He’s good on his word. 

He dives into you like a ravenous animal. His tongue hitting every desperate spot within you. You were taken to the same state of mind when he first ate you out. You had no words, just moans of pleasure. 

He uses his fingers to toy with your opening, sticking two fingers in initially before he becomes too eager to see you fall apart. He wraps his lips around your swollen clit, suckling and moaning around it. You knew from before that he liked all eyes on him. You watch him as the vibrations mixed with him finger fucking you sends you into your first eye rolling orgasm. 

You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life. It’s a release you’ve been yearning months for, making it even sweeter. 

He pulls away, giving your pussy a little slap. It makes you yell out. 

“Came without permission, but that’s okay,” He licks his fingers, “You have a couple more in you.  You just gotta beg extra for ‘em.” 

He was a menace. 

You just nod, not able to communicate your actual feelings on him denying you the simple pleasure of cumming all over him. The idea of having to hold back made you a bit eager to see how far you could take it, though. 

“Need your mouth now,” He tugs off his underwear, kicking them across the room. You don’t know how, but it almost looks bigger. Maybe it’s the swollen red tip that makes you overawe over it. 

“Would you like me on my knees, sir?”

He leers at you, “What a good girl, being so polite… Yes, baby girl, get on your knees in front of me. I wanna see those eyes.”

You crawl off the couch, getting in between his legs. His cock is laying on his lower tummy, just waiting for you. You aren’t super into sucking dick, but this was Joel’s. You know that you had to give it your all. You wanted to give it your all. 

You grab ahold of the base of his cock, keeping your eyes on him as you slowly open your lips to take him. Once your hot mouth touches the tip, he hisses in satisfaction. 

“Mhm,” He groans, “Take all of it, baby.” 

You’re not sure if you can, but you are going to do your very best. 

You relax your throat as much as you can, slowly inching his cock down your throat. You’re halfway around it when it hits your gag reflex. You pull back, still keeping his cock wrapped around your lips. You sit up, jerking the base of his cock as you slurp up as much as you can. 

“You got it baby,” He encourages, “Relax and take it slow.”

Whenever Joel praises you, you can’t help but let it get to your head. 

You take a deep breath in as you take more of him in. Widening your jaw more, you finally get him completely engulfed in your mouth. He twitches inside, which sends a jolt of pleasure to your core. You let him take control, raising his hips a bit to fuck your mouth. He has a hold of your braid, which only adds to the experience. You’ve never had your hair pulled before, but you’re beginning to love the sensation. He’s a moaning mess, chanting your name like a prayer. Your saliva is all over his lower tummy by the time he pulls your mouth away from his cock. 

“Gonna make me cum like that if you keep goin’,” He states, pulling you up to his lips. He kisses you, all tongue and teeth, “Let me fuck that pussy, yeah?”

You whimper, “Yes, please.”

“Such a good girl.”

He pulls you up into his lap while you slowly position yourself above him. You loved riding him before and with how sensitive and riled up you were now, you were prepared to ride his cock like it’s the last thing you’d ever do. 

He focused his attention on rubbing his cock head between your pussy lips. You bite your lip as soon as he pushes slowly into your entrance. You groan, letting the sweet stretch take ahold of you.

“Atta’ girl,” Joel sighs, “Take all of me in that tight little pussy.”

You gasp as soon as he raises your hips a bit, repositioning how his cock sits inside you. His hand rests on your pelvic bone, pulling you forward. You realize he’s guiding you, helping you grind back and forth on his dick. Every roll of your hips pushes a moan out your throat, making Joel stare up at you with satisfaction. He removes his hands from your hips, bringing his right hand to your throat. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby girl,” He lets out a wanton moan, while your stomach feels like it’s reaching a boiling point. He realizes how tense your getting so he reaches down with his spare hand, putting more pressure on your clit. “This is my pussy.”

“Mhm.”

“Say it. Say it’s mine.”

“It’s yours, Joel.”

“That’s fuckin’ right, baby girl. All mine.”

“Joel, please,” You cry, “I need to cum.”

“No,” He spits, “You don’t cum until I tell you.”

You clench, trying to resist the release. He notices you slowing down, so he stops choking you. Instead of letting you have a moment to recoup, he grabs your waist again, raising it slightly so he could raise his hips to pound into you. With his fingers still pressing on your bud, he chooses a bruising pace. You are practically screaming, the release imminent.

“Please, please,” You beg, “Joel, I need to.”

He doesn’t stop his assault on your pussy, “You keep beggin’, baby girl. I’ll tell you when.”

“Fuck, fuck,” You can’t stop yourself, the vibration from your incoming orgasm taking over your body, “Please Joel!”

“Cum,” He grits his teeth, “Cum all over this cock, baby girl.”

You have never had an orgasm take over every fiber of your being like it. You throw your head back, yelling Joel’s into the silence of the house. His pace slows down, as your cum soaks his lower half. 

“Oh my god,” You groan, not knowing how to formulate a full sentence yet. You were still seeing stars in your vision, as you try to refocus on Joel. 

“Holy shit,” He pulls out of you, “You okay?”

You just nod, your head falling forward. Your braid falls over your chest in between your breasts. Joel grabs the end of it, toying with it for a moment while you catch your breath.

“I’ll give you a minute,” He picks you up off him, laying you onto the cushion next to him. You grab his hand as he tries to pull away. 

“I don’t need one,” You were still spent from the first two orgasms, it was written all over your face. Joel just chuckles, positioning himself over your body. He cages you in, tilting your face so you make eye contact. 

“You ready for me already?”

“Need you.”

He uses his leg to part your thighs, settling between you again. He was still hard, his cock nudging your swollen wet opening.

“I want your eyes on me,” He commands. 

“Yes, sir.”

He pushes into you again, your mouth parting in a gasp at how sensitive you were. 

He smiles at your reaction while he settles into a steady pace. You try to focus on him, watching his facial expressions as he dives into you over and over again. 

Joel had to be sculpted by whatever God created him. Every part of him was angular, his cheekbones quite high. His nose was just about perfect, especially from the side. His side profile was everything.

You truly didn’t think he looked his age. The only thing that kind of gave him away was the grays speckled through his dark hair. Other than that, the guy was a sex god. 

You are too busy to admiring him, you don’t even realize how close he is. He’s gripping onto your hips, probably bruising them with how tightly he’s holding them. The way his dick twitches inside you, sends that familiar rush back into your body. 

He’s not breaking eye contact. You smirk while he groans pushing harder into you. 

“You better cum inside me,” You murmur, “Want you to fill me up.”

“God,” He cries, “So fucking flithy.”

And he loved that about you. 

He releases into you with a loud sigh. You don’t teeter over that edge until he pulls out of you, looking to see his work. 

He uses his two fingers, pushing them inside you, then back out. He rubs his cum onto your clit, slapping it a couple times. When you jolt in pleasure, he smiles knowingly. 

“One more time?”

He positions himself between your legs again. He’s fingering you so lazily but it’s still enough to have you crying out in pleasure. You don’t even have time to respond to him, before you’re falling over the edge and cumming once more. 

You lay there, trying to catch your breath again. Joel stands up on wobbly legs, making his way to the nearby bathroom. You didn’t know if this house would be stocked with rags or anything, so when Joel comes out with a folded blanket, you can’t help but giggle. 

“This is all we got,” He gestures towards the blanket, “We can burn it when we finish with it.”

You take it from him, running it between your legs. The wooley fabric scratched a bit, but you didn’t have one care in the world. 

Until you get a familiar sinking feeling. Like you did something very wrong.

You sit up while Joel takes the blanket, cleaning up himself. You try to stand, your legs feeling like jelly. You pick up your panties from the floor next to Joel’s clothes. You start to grab each of your clothing items, throwing them on as you go. You watch as he does the same.

“I guess this means you don’t hate me,” You mutter, not knowing what to say after what just occurred. You felt guilty and sick with anxiety.

If anyone else sat in on this day with Joel, they’d say the same thing. The way he talks to you, how annoyed he was to be stuck with you on patrol today, everything. It’d make anyone feel not wanted. 

He shoots you a glance, “I never hated you.”

He says it with such conviction that you wince, not sure whether to believe him.

“You have ignored me for months. You fought with Tommy because you were stuck with me today. And then on the way here, you yelled at me for having to pee. Called me dum-”

“I didn’t call you dumb.”

You breath in sharply, “You’re just impossible, you know that?”

He shakes his head. You know he wants to say something smart back, but it never comes. 

Instead he sits down beside you, keeping his eyes down at his feet. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a lifetime. 

“Listen,” He huffs, “I don’t hate you. I am just not good at…”

“Being nice to people?”

He smirks, finally looking up at you, “Sure, but hey… I don’t regret anything that happened. I enjoy our… time together.”

You wanted to strangle him. 

After months of contemplating what went wrong, he tells you he doesn’t regret anything. 

After spending all that time acting like he did. 

You wear your emotions all over your face and Joel realizes it quickly. He rests his hand on your knee, a gentle gesture that makes your heart rate increase by a thousand. 

“You made me feel like shit for months,” You admit, trying to hold your composure, “I’ve felt like an idiot since the moment Ellie walked in that morning. You made me feel that way, Joel. You made me feel stupid. And here I am, all this time later, and I still feel fucking dumb. Maybe even dumber now, since I just let you fuck me again.”

His hand travels up to cup your cheek. You felt like crying, but you knew that it wouldn’t do you any good. 

“I’m sorry if I made you feel that way, darlin’,” He confesses, “I am sorry for everythin’.”

You felt like you were being manipulated. You always had a terrible time figuring out what a genuine apology looked like. You were used to being exploited and having your heart ripped out and stomped on. 

You turn away from his hand, looking out the back sliding glass door. The rain is coming down, pitter pattering on the tin roof over your head. You see lightning go across the sky, hearing the loud crack of thunder seconds later. 

You pondered if you should just run in the other direction. Away from Joel, away from the emotions and memories that were being sludged up from the deepest pits of your brain. 

“When I grabbed you earlier, you had this horrified look on your face…” Joel starts, bringing your attention back, “It was a face ‘d seen more than a few times. That look of disbelief and fear.”

You just let him continue, not looking him the eyes.

“I never wanna to make you feel that way,” He admits, “I never wanna scare you or hurt you. I knew in that moment, I was using that pent up anger at myself towards you.I just… I spent so much time tryin’ to find ways to keep you away from me because I don’t wanna disappoint you or hold you back.”

You finally look back up at him. 

“I am sick of findin’ ways to keep you away. I like havin’ you around.”

You want to believe him so badly. 

“I like having you around, too, Joel. I just…” You stammer, “I just need a bit, okay?”

He bows his head, “Yeah, ‘course. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll take watch and wait for the rain to let up.”

You take up his offer, stalking off to the nearby bedroom. You just wanted space, a moment of peace and quiet. Your body was still recovering from the greatest orgasms of your life, now your mind is littered with a million emotions you didn’t know how to muddle through. Once you lay down on the old bed, you realize that sleep would probably bring you back to life a bit. You close your eyes, letting your mind ease out of the chaos of reality. 

–

When you wake up, you don’t hear anymore rain. You only hear the crackling of the fireplace. You don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping, which sends you into a slight panic. You waltz out into the living room, seeing Joel lounging on the couch you defiled and reading. It was a random novel, probably from the large bookcase in the hallway. 

“We good to head back?” You question.

“Yeah, let’s get home ‘fore they send out a search party.”

You watch him stretch his shoulders as he stands, his jaw clenched in an unrelaxed way. His hair is messy and standing in different directions from the way he was laying. It makes you smile. 

“Hey Joel,” You say, walking closer to him, “When we get back to Jackson, would you want to go out to dinner or something?”

His gaze softens. You were really trying, he could tell. 

Your rested mind decided it was time to just jump head first. 

If Joel was being honest with his intentions, maybe it was time for you to be honest with yourself, too. 

“I’d like that, sweetheart.”

“It’s a date, then.”

taglist: @pedrotonin @mysingularitybts @harriedandharassed @paleidiot @misatoad @lottieellz101

[als-notebook]

silence

Misha seeks out a conversation with a friend. (I attempted to write this very ambiguous. You can view this as platonic or romantic.)

Sundays always felt slow, and the rain made the day feel even more empty. Somehow, Misha Bachnyskyi found himself walking over to his friend’s house in the rain with a hood over his head. When he got there, he noted that his friend’s mother’s car was not parked in the driveway, meaning she was probably out working, and his friend was home alone.

Misha almost hesitated to reach out and knock on the door. Why had he come here, really? He hadn’t even asked him if he could visit. But surely he wouldn’t mind, right? Something about today felt gloomy, and it wasn’t just the gray skies. Misha felt down, and he wasn’t sure why, but what he did know is that he needed a friend today.

Finally, Misha tapped his knuckles against the wood. Knock, knock, knock. He took a step back, waiting for just one moment before Noel Gruber opened the door a crack, peering out. When he spotted Misha, he opened the door completely, smoothing out his clothes and smiling a little. He hadn’t expected the visit. “Misha,” Noel said to him, “a pleasant surprise, really. What are you doing here? You walked over here in the rain?”

The walk from Misha’s house to Noel’s house wasn’t very long, perhaps a few minutes, but maybe it was still a bit concerning that Misha had made the walk in the rain without even notifying Noel he was visiting. “H..Hi,” Misha stammered out after a few seconds—he didn’t really think about what to say. “Ahh… Well… I just wanted to hang out, I guess.” It wasn’t the entire truth, but it wasn’t completely false either. 

Noel frowned. “Are you… sure? You look kind of upset.” Misha sighed. Great. He knew something was up.

“Aghh… I don’t know. I just… I started feeling kind of sad. I just let my feet take me here. I guess I just need a friend.” Misha wasn’t usually open and honest like that. Something about Noel felt… safe. Like he could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge him.

Noel felt honored to be that safe space for Misha. He could have gone to Ricky, or texted Talya, or kept it all to himself; but he went to Noel. His feet took him to Noel. Still, Noel concealed how glad he was. He stepped out of the way to let Misha in. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Misha stepped in behind Noel, threw his shoes off, and took a vague glance around. He sort of slouched like he was trying to get his wet hoodie as far away from him as he possibly could, uncomfortable. He spotted a coat rack right by the door, and lifted his arms up and behind himself, pulling the soaked jacket over his head. He pinched the hood with his index finger and thumb and hung it up as he finally replied, “I just want to… talk.”

Noel nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can talk.” He smiled; perhaps it was a bit crooked. He wanted to do this right, he really wanted to show Misha he’d support him. Don’t overthink it, Noel. “Do you wanna go in my room?”

“Sure,” Misha said with a shrug. He didn’t mind where they went, really. As long as he could  talk. “Lead the way.”

As per usual, Noel led Misha to his room. It was quite dim in there; the big light was off, and the only things lighting it up was the dim light from the window and a pretty, vintage-looking lamp next to Noel’s bed. Misha recognized it—Noel had thrifted it a while ago. He had been so thrilled about it, Misha recalled. Something about it being super cheap.

“Here,” Noel said as he began to move a few pieces of clothing off his bed, “Come sit.” He sat on the edge of the bed, beckoning for Misha to sit next to him. Misha smirked playfully. He’d been here several times before. He might as well live here.

“Nah,” Misha said before flopping onto the bed face first. “I think I’ll lay right here.” Noel was taken aback, and then laughed. “Sure,” he replied. Noel hesitated; would it be weird if he laid next to him? Surely not. They were friends, right? Being friends with guys as a gay man was hard. Most of the time, they’d think he liked them if he did something that could just barely be interpreted as romantic. But Misha was different. He didn’t mind the friendly affection; in fact, he actively seeked it out. Unlike with friends Noel had in the past, they would hug and sit close to one another very frequently. It was nice. 

So, finally, Noel laid next to Misha, their shoulders touching on the small bed. Noel turned his head to face Misha, and Misha lifted his head to face Noel. They smiled at each other.

Misha flipped over onto his back, now, and leaned closer to Noel. They shared a few moments of warm silence. Noel wanted to give Misha the chance to speak first.

Finally, Misha took a breath.

“I like the rain. It reminds me of home. When my mother and I would snuggle up under a blanket, when she would tell me stories and read me poems.”

A beat.

“Do you like the rain, Noel?”

Noel thought about it for a moment. “Sometimes.”

He paused, and then elaborated, “It can be poetic, really… It makes a good metaphor. Sometimes it’s harsh; thrashing around trees, beating down on your skin… sometimes it leaves behind a bright rainbow.”

“Sometimes it’s calming, listening to raindrops hit the window,” Misha continued, and left it at that. The silence between them revealed the sound of rain falling onto Noel’s window.

Misha glanced at Noel again. The other boy stared at the ceiling, appearing comfortable. Misha sort of laughed–although it was more like a sharp exhale out of his nose. “Sick of this sappy shit,” he said jokingly, before flopping directly on top of Noel, catching the poet off guard.

Noel chuckled, “What are you doing? Don’t you find this a little weird?” he said, before quickly clarifying, “I mean, not that I mind.”

“Nah. It’s just like… horizontal hug, no?” This sent Noel into a laughing fit that quickly ended after he snorted and got embarrassed.

Misha snickered. But soon, their laughter dissipated, the silence filled again by the sound of the rain. Misha rested his head on its side on top of Noel’s chest. His heartbeat was somewhat… relaxing.

Of course, their conversation inevitably turned sappy again, for what are two writers if not full of love?

“I miss my mom,” Misha said softly, somberly. Noel placed a hand on his head as a comforting gesture, still silent. “I miss my country.”

He thought for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s kind of stupid,” he began, “but I keep thinking about that question I got a while ago.” Noel hummed as a response. “The one that said something like, if you could go back to Ukraine right now, but couldn’t talk to the choir ever again, would you do it?”

Misha sighed. He was about to get unbearably sweet, but he couldn’t help it. “As much as I miss my home… I meant what I said. Really. I want to go back as soon as I can, but if it means never talking to the only people who were ever nice to me here again? I don’t think I could do that, you know? Is that such a crime?”

Noel looked down at the boy on his chest. He adored the unusual sweetness from his friend. Knowing Misha really did care about the choir, about him—it felt nice. Absent-mindedly, he twirled his curls with his fingers. Misha didn’t seem to mind. “I think that’s really lovely, Misha.”

And once again, they were left in silence, a common theme of this afternoon. But it wasn’t anything uncomfortable—in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was nice they could lay unspeaking and still enjoy one another’s presence and company. That was a kind of closeness that was hard to come by, especially in Uranium.

But all silences must come to an end, right?

“Noel?” Misha said, quietly and softly, as if beckoning for his attention. Noel continued playing with his hair, looking down at him. “Hmm?” 

For a few moments, Misha was silent, the only sound from him was his steady breaths. Finally, he spoke.

“I love you.”

Noel was taken aback by the statement. A boy lying on his chest against his heartbeat—it was undoubtedly intimate. Was this a platonic sentiment? Was it something deeper, more romantic? Noel wasn’t sure.

But either way, no matter what Misha truly did mean, Noel knew his answer.

“I love you, too.”

[aheathen-conceivably]

Violette ran through the farmyard, disappointed that her father's attentions had been pulled elsewhere, when she found Will looking out over the gorge where they liked to play cops and robbers when the adults weren't looking. Before he could even notice her, she had scurried up the fence that protected the horses from falling into the pit below. As she pirouetted and walked along the uneven wooden barrier Will looked up in horror, “Violette! Get down! I told you my Poppa doesn't let us up there. Its not safe!”

Her voice called out from above, echoing off the orange rocks without a hint of fear, “Oh what, are you scaaaaared?”

As though to punctuate her words, she spun her arms around like windmills, letting her balance pull her back and forth like she was going to fall. William let out a small yelp and she leaned toward the left, as though she were falling into the shallow rushing water below. Even the birds flew away at his cry, like they were preparing to swoop after her into the valley to see if she would ever stand against the blue skies with them again.

Instead she caught herself at the last minute, jumping off of the beam and landing delicately on her toes beside William. She greeted his shocked expression with a small bow and triumphant smile.

With two feet safely on the ground, Violette let out a loud laugh, “Oh, don’t be a baby, Will! It’s not my fault you fall for it every time!” She stopped to stick out her tongue at him, “You’re so gullible!”

He crossed his arms and began to sulk away, “I am not! And one time you’re gunna fall for real and I’ll be right!”

She ran after him, still laughing but in a much more gentle way this time, “I’ll never fall! Look!” Once she had his full attention, Violette stood on the very tips of her feet, holding her balance until they went numb and any child with less willpower would have dropped back down. His eyes went wide in amazement but then her heels hit the sand below and he seemed to remember why he was angry with her, “I’ve seen that, Lottie!”

He sulked away again, sinking into the desert flowers in a huff. She stared at him with his head on his knees and suddenly felt a guilty pang, “I know, I’m sorry. We can play cops and robbers now.”

Still he didn’t answer, so she bent amongst the flowers and picked a handful for him. He took them from her outstretched hand and moved slightly for her to sit near him. She leaned onto his arm, trying to nudge out what was bothering him the way she knew she could. He looked up, back toward the fence where she had been walking moments before, "You’re so brave, Lottie, you know that? I been thinkin’ and—and I shoulda said something when Billy was mean to you.”

She grabbed the flower away from him and brought it to her lips, blowing the petals on the breeze before she laid it back on the ground and spoke, “That’s okay. I can stand up for myself. I know you’re my friend.”

“But…doesn’t it bother you? You know, when they ask about your parents…about the way you look and the way you talk?”

Violette absentmindedly laid onto the sand, drawing circles with her finger as her mind raced. Ever since she had put Billy in his place, no one had said anything so blatant to her; but she knew some of them went home to tell their parents or whisper about her behind her back. It was the same thing that happened on the street sometimes, every time someone assumed her Aunt Jo was her mother or gave her parents a dirty look.

She didn’t really know how to explain that it did bother her, because she didn’t fully understand their disdain. Still a small feeling of anger rose up for their glares and questions, the ones that made her feel like her very existence was somehow an affront to them. But she wasn’t going to tell William that, or anyone for that matter. 

So instead she began to adopt a sense of self-assured bravado, which became more real with every feigned response. She sat up and scoffed, answering Will’s question as though it were the silliest thing in the world, “Why would it bother me? That’s their problem. Not mine.”

Then she righted her shoulders and donned a smile, “So are we gunna okay cops and robbers now or are you still a big scaaaaredy-cat?”

Whatever remaining worries they had were forgotten as she ran into the distance, giving herself a head start before she mounted an invisible horse and swirled her lasso in the air. He jumped to his feet and placed an imaginary cowboy head atop his head to don the guise of the cop, chasing an outlaw across the open desert just like they did in olden days.

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.

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Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit. 

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now. 

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

-

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono. 

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him. 

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors. 

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

-

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way. 

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being. 

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you. 

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming! 

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much. 

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets. 

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

-

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way. 

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

-

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him. 

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

-

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

-

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to. 

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her. 

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it. 

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

-

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. 

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space. 

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all. 

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you. 

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

-

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA. 

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking. 

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds. 

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row. 

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N 

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks. 

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus? 

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes. 

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

-

Race day arrives. 

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds. 

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy. 

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously. 

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

-

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over. 

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back. 

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

-

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans. 

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

-

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

-

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

-

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan. 

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[mlmxreader]

Rainfall | Cooper Howard x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Getting caught in the rain together with the ghoul please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Cooper have a heart to heart whilst in the rain.

: ̗̀➛ mentions of violence, swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

A storm was brewing. Thunder clapping as the skies went from blue to a greenish yellow; almost the colour of sick and vomit as the grey and stained clouds fused and mixed together, flashes of light grey striking through them almost as often as the thunder clapped.

You looked to Cooper, frowning and silently asking what should be done, but he didn't pay you any mind; too busy rummaging through the bloodied chem box to even think about looking at you. It had been that way since he hired you.

But in truth, Cooper had forgotten why he had hired you in the first place; maybe it was that savage deathclaw problem down near the big river, or was it the synth drama near the mountains?

Didn't matter much now anyway. You had been travelling together for so long, and double the guns meant double the caps, and the money was awfully good.

You didn't question much about jobs, but you always disproved when he didn't try and raise the price for the more menial shit - help us defend our farm. My cat ran out of the vault and I need him back. Super mutants are stealing our crops. Menial, pointless shit.

"Hey!" You snapped, huffing loudly. "Earth to Ghoul!"

Cooper turned to look at you, grumbling as he sneered. "What?"

You gestured to the sky, folding your arms across your chest as you sneered back. "The weather, dickhead. Don't you think we should get some shelter?"

"Pop a Rad-X," he growled out. "You'll live."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't wanna look like you," you told him. "With your stupidly dark brown eyes that I get lost in, and your fuckin' gloved hands and your fuckin' charming smile and your... fuck!"

He smiled to himself as he nodded slowly, refusing your gaze. "Keep talkin' like that, I might just stay here just to hear more o' it."

"Cooper," you growled out through gritted teeth. "This is serious!"

Cooper chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he pocketed whatever he could from the chem box, not worried about the blood smearing onto his gloves. "Alright, alright. We'll get you some shelter, Merc."

"Thank you."

You waited for him to get up, dusting off his trousers before he tilted his head back to check the skies; he nodded curtly, tipping his hat and waving for you to follow.

You were quick, just slightly out of his shadow as you fell into step with him; Cooper slowed down slightly, letting you be beside him as he lead the way.

But the second he felt a single droplet hit the back of his neck, he grabbed his hat, and all but smacked it onto your head.

"Keep the rads off ya," he shrugged. "You're no use to me if you're sick."

You smiled a little, fixing the hat so that it kept the rain from your skin. "Real noble of ya, Ghoul."

Cooper hummed, letting the rain hit his skin as he listened closely to the thunder; it was all getting closer now, like each droplet allowed the storm to creep an inch towards you both.

Wouldn't be long before he would also need shelter - the rads were one thing, but it wasn't ideal to be soaked to the bone and wandering around in the damp and cold. But then you smacked his shoulder, and he glared at you.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," you told him, flicking the brim of his hat. "I know it kills you to be kind."

"Shuddup," he scoffed, slowly letting his arm rest around your shoulders as he did his best not to laugh. "For a merc, you're sure mouthy."

You grinned, leaning into him slightly. "For a bounty hunter, you're awfully sentimental."

"Hm." Cooper shook his head. "Well, ain't like we're strangers."

"We ain't," you agreed. "Y'know, you never did tell me where you come from."

He shrugged, clearing his throat. "Came from some place way out West... you know how I'm lookin' for my family?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

"My daughter," he told you. "And my wife... I just wanna know where they are, especially Janey. She... I just wanna know she's okay."

You nodded again, gently patting his back as you cleared your throat. "I wanna help."

"You don't-"

"I want to," you insisted, stepping in front of him and glaring him down. "I want to help you find them. No extra charge."

Cooper swallowed thickly, his heart rising and pounding. "Alright... but don't tell-"

"Another living being," you agreed. "I get it. It's not something that you want someone finding out and... y'know, I do appreciate the honesty."

He held his hand out, letting you shake it as he grunted softly. "Done deal, merc."

You pulled on his hand, your breath fanning across the stretched and scarred skin on his cheeks. "You trusted me, so I'm gonna trust you - but you dare even reference this when we're speaking around anyone, and I will gauge your eye out and make you eat it raw. Nerves and all."

Cooper smiled, grabbing the back of your neck. "Well, tell me."

"You're looking for your family, so I don't expect anything to come out of this," you started, "but recently? I've been having some... feelings about you that I don't think I've ever had before. I don't wanna put you on this and make you feel like you gotta abandon anyone for me, but I need you to know because you told me the truth."

The rain started to fall a little heavier, the droplets cascading from the brim of his hat and making it look like you were surrounded by the water; he smiled, licking his lips. Of course he still loved and adored Barb; she would always, always hold his heart, and she would always be the love of his life.

But he couldn't deny that he did feel something for you - it wasn't as much, and it wasn't as deep, but it was still there.

"We best get to shelter," he said quietly, clenching his jaw. "Fore this rain gets even worse. C'mon."

You didn't even hesitate, falling into step with him as easily as you had done earlier; a soft hum coming from the back of your throat.

"Y'know, we ought to find one of them portable radios," you told him. "It'd be good for us to have some music while we walk, don't ya think?"

He rolled his eyes as he did his best not to smile. "Next town's a day's walk, I'll see if we can find one."

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

thank you so much for reading, but if I may steal just a moment of time, I'd like to say that Mahmoud still needs help rebuilding his life after being forced to leave the Gaza Strip. If you could spare even just £1, then that would really, truly & honestly, make a massive difference to help someone in need.

[heartcereql]

without you

✩lo’ak sully x fem!na’vi!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒- lo’ak can’t help feeling insecure. you could have anyone you wanted, yet you chose him? ࿐࿔*:･ﾟAll my dreams and all the lights mean Nothing without you ࿐࿔*:･

𝐂𝐖- reassurance, kisses kisses kisses, established relationship, like one angsty moment, english is not my first language.

𝐀/𝐍- lo’ak is so bbg. so sorry for disappearing i had like 9284747 things going on also besties i need ideas for ride bc it’s a masterpiece and i don’t wanna ruin it :(( xxx

pandora’s skies acquired a captivating shade of blue during late mornings, almost reaching midday. flocks of birds could be observed, wandering above the forest, and, if you were lucky enough, there were little clouds hovering above the forest, letting the sun rays warm your skin, without making it insufferable.

that’s why you and lo’ak could spend the morning focused on each other, under the hypnotising sky, talking about everything and nothing, melting into the other’s company.

your head laid on his chest, rising as he breathed, hearing lo’ak’s comforting heartbeat. one of his hands secured you by your waist, while the other one was tangled in your hair.

your mind drifted to the pleasant sensation that you’d always get when you were with lo’ak. he didn’t know, but he was the one that saved you from the dark side of your life no one knew about. he was the reason you kept trying, and you thanked eywa for a man like him.

everyone thought you had it all, but it meant nothing without him.

lo’ak, as head over heels as he was, was starting to feel doubts rotting his brain. you were like a gift fron eywa, to him? why would eywa gift him?

overthinking was clouding his mind. in all seriousness, why him? he often thought of himself as cool, except when it came to the romantic area.

you glanced at his frowning gaze. you kissed the corner of his lips, hoping to get him away from whatever was upsetting him. but he only sent a smile your way, continuing to ponder instants after.

you found yourself frowning now. intertwining lo’ak’s fingers with yours, you caressed the back of his hand.

“lo’ak?” you decided to break te arising tension. “is something wrong?”

“i don’t get it” he mumbled.

you lifted your face from his chest, looking at him with confusion.

“you could have anyone you wanted. you’re literally perfect, in every possible way, and you’re here with me? i’m sorry but it doesn’t make sense” he rambled.

you were now propped on your hands, supporting them on either sides of lo’ak.

you knew that despite his fierce and extroverted personality, lo’ak was insecure when it came to your relationship. and you didn’t mind to reassure him every single time he had doubts, even more, you adored doing it.

“lo’ak” you tried to interrupted him, softly.

“no, i’m serious this time, y/n” he had raised his voice a little. “why be stuck with me when you have all those-“

“lo’ak i’m not stuck-“ you tried to speak again, but he didn’t let you.

“was it out of pity? just for fun? a dare?”

“lo’ak!” you grabbed his face in your hands. “can you hear me for once?”

he went quiet. his name rolling off your tongue tingled his ears, and he took a moment to admire the determined yet gentle look on your face.

“lo’ak, i see you. and i am not with you out of pity or for fun, but because i feel seen with you as well. and i have come to realise that i am nothing without you. all my dreams and all eywa’s lights mean nothing without you”

you pressed a peck to his temple, as a gesture of tenderness.

“everyone is always saying life is beautiful, and they think that i have it all. but may my life be as sweet as vanilla that i have nothing without you, lo’ak”

the hands holding his face were now caressing his cheeks. lo’ak was out of words. he knew you had no problem in reassuring him, yet he had never seen you express it with such emotion until now.

you feather-like kissed the top of his nose.

“i” peck “see” peck “you” peck “okay? and no amount of good hunters or fine suitors is going to change that”

he was mesmerised by your words. as weightless as they could have been taken, they meant the world to him.

he tried to elaborate a worthy response to you. but he was at a loss of words. in the best way possible.

one of his hands went to cup your jaw.

“you got it?” you asked in a hum.

he nodded, leaning to connect your lips. you met him halfway, eager to show him how much he meant to you.

“i got it” he mumbled against your lips.

[burninlovebutler]

Just an Intern // Part 3

pairing: austin x makeup artist!reader | word count: 8.7k-ish

warnings: angst, smut, FLUFF???, confusing arrogant asshole!austin, one bed, alcohol, hot tub 👀, fingering, play fighting, lots of dialogue, fries lore lol, truth or dare, name calling, physical altercation, yelling, screaming, crying, i am so sorry (but not really), 18+ MDNI

summary: while the set of Bikeriders remains buried under snow, you're imprisoned at the nearest ski lodge, in the last vacancy with none other than your arch nemesis. as the novelty of a packed resort wears off quickly, you find yourself on a drunken adventure led by an unexpected partner in crime... literally.

PART 1 | PART 2 | see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

vibes: just an intern spotify playlist ⛓️

Let's cause a little trouble Oh, you make me feel so weak I bet you kiss your knuckles Right before they touch my cheek

But I've got my mind, made up this time 'Cause there's a menace in my bed

Can you see his silhouette?

A glaring white morning light lulled you from your slumber. You were so warm and comfortable…. too warm and comfortable. Your eyes shot open and your body stilled completely the minute you sensed a heavy arm that was wrapped around your waist and a body pressed against your backside.

What the fuck

Last night’s events raced through your mind, remembering your transgressions with the actor vividly, but the end was quite fuzzy. All you remembered was going to shower then coming out to a completely dark room with Austin sleeping at the far edge of the twin sized bed, facing away from you. Then you slipped into bed, turned the opposite direction and fell asleep.

How the fuck did you end up being little spoon to the man that told you he’d rather rot in hell than sleep next to you. You stared at the wooden wall, following each swirl as if it would give you the answer to get out from this death trap of impending doom. You decided to take the plunge and try to slip from his grasp. A slight sleepy groan rumbled behind you made your eyes squeeze shut, like you were expecting a bomb to go off.

You knew exactly the song and dance it would ensue – some furious accusation and an insult.

Much to your surprise you felt him freeze just as you did then try to escape quietly. The realization hit that he perhaps didn’t know you were awake either. I mean realistically what would he reprimand you for? He was wrapped around you, what was he going to claim? That you forced him to play big spoon?

You chose to keep your place, taking advantage of the predisposition that you were still asleep. Besides it would give you just a sliver of peace before you had to go back to his ‘Intern’. There was a slight tug of sheets, then a cold emptiness when he pulled from the mattress.

He let out another hushed grunt then, “Fuck.” He mumbled to himself silently. You curiously opened one eye to observe him. He rounded the bed going to the dresser, tapping his fingertips across the top like he was looking for something. His hand landed on a pair of black rimmed glasses you hadn’t noticed when you went to bed in the dark. You couldn’t help but prop up a subtle brow.

Wanting to savor this little secret you stumbled upon, you decided to ‘wake up’ giving a performative stretch before cocooning yourself in the duvet. “Glasses huh?” You held back a ‘caught ya’ smirk, then a stifled giggle when you noticed him jump a tiny bit at the surprise.

He turned at the startle and instantly rolled his eyes. He hadn’t been awake not even 5 minutes and he was already annoyed with you. “Yes, I wear glasses, big whoop.”

“Well, I just didn’t know.” You tugged your bottom lip in trying not to laugh at his obviously embarrassed reaction.

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, Intern.” He spat back, turning to the phone ringing – to the tune of… Burnin Love? by Elvis? You were learning more about this man than you cared to know. He snatched his phone so fast, before it even got to the ‘hunka hunka’. Another thing he was clearly embarrassed about.

“What’s up?” While he spoke into the phone you found yourself distracted by the muscular lines of his bare back, just then noticing he was shirtless. His skin was golden and was toned like a swimmer. You followed the curvatures of his body down to were they met small dimples in his lower back then disappeared into blue stripped pajama pants.

His evidently aggravated groan snapped you out of your expedition down his body.

“Fucking great.” Bringing his hand to both temples. “We’re still fucking snowed in. We’re stuck here until tomorrow at least.”

Fuck

“I take it there are no other rooms available?”

“No Intern, obviously not, the roads are closed. Nobody can fucking leave.”

You both went your separate ways and you couldn’t have been happier, finally getting a moment to breathe and relax. There was a tiny café within the resort that you hid in most of the day taking time to catch up on the book you had been neglecting. The snow outside continued to pile up with no end in sight. Your odds of escaping Austin weren’t looking very promising. While it was what you wanted, there was a part of you – the machoistic part of you – that didn’t want it to end, just yet.

Before you knew it, it was evening and you were trying to avoid the hotel room at all costs, not wanting to risk running into Austin. So, you found yourself at the same bar from the Landon incident yesterday. You pressed your palms against the bar ledge that was littered with your coworkers, including Landon out of the corner of your eye. He sent a chill up your spine, but he seemed distracted by some giggly extra.

“Vodka soda please.” You ordered from the rather attractive bar tender. Maybe you could end up in someone else’s bed that night, maybe it would stave off the remnants Austin’s touch left on you. Regardless you had a mission - getting fucking wasted. How else were you supposed to deal with the confusion clouding in your head?

About 2 vodka sodas in, an aggravated sigh came from your left, “You would be here.” Said the exact voice you were trying to elude.

“What the fuck does that mean?” You rolled your eyes turning to him. He wore a plain black shirt that hugged his toned arms, tight dark denim jeans and leather boots.

He shrugged, “You just would.” Evading the question. “I guess I don’t blame you, there’s nothing else open in here at night.”

“Exactly.” You agreed taking a sip of your third drink, sending a warmth through your veins, then down to your core at the sight of his skilled fingers wrapped around a half-drank bourbon on the rocks.

“Last call!” Boomed from the tattooed bar tender.

“What?” You questioned, surprised. You tapped your phone screen to wake the time, “What, it’s only 12?”

“Bar closes at 12 on Sundays.” The worker informed, beginning his closing duties by wiping down the counter.

“Augh.” Austin groaned easily downing the remainder of his drink and harshly landed it on the bar. Without another word he was already out the door, likely at one of the cast’s room parties that had been going on.

You were in no rush to be alone in a hotel room but after a stroll through an uneventful empty lobby you decided to call it a night.

Opening the door to your room you noticed something that had been hiding behind a curtain, a wide open door. Being under the impression that the actor would be in some room party, you hesitantly tiptoed across the room. Your mind ping-ponged between the possibilities.

Maybe a resident had found the wrong room

Maybe you found the wrong room

Maybe the door hadn’t been locked and was swung open by the vicious snowy winds

Maybe it was a ghost

Finally at the door you peered through it from the edge to find… a hot tub? The jetted pool sat on a wooden platform covered by the room above’s balcony. And there sat the asshole right in the middle with another full drink in his grasp.

“Where have you been!” The blonde called out in a playful tune, the alcohol evidently taken over his body. “Did you know we have a hot tub?” His voice almost excited.

“Uh…” The entire scene threw you completely off, you’d never so much as seen this man smile and now, he was lightly playing in the water. “Am I hallucinating or are you actually having a good time?”

“C’mon get in here.” He gestured to join him hurriedly, ignoring your question.

“Austin it’s fucking freezing, you’re insane.” You thought he was even crazier when you realized that he was shirtless, because what else would you wear in a jacuzzi. “I’m not getting in there.” Shaking your head vehemently.

“It’s warm in here c’mon.” His gestures even more exaggerated through the steam that brewed above the water.

You shifted from one foot to another and chewed on your lip weighing your options. What else were you going to do? And who were you to turn down a hot tub?

“Augh fine.” You huffed, peeling your shirt over your head and unzipping then dropping your jeans. A blast of cold wind hit your bare body, covered only in a bra and panties. Your arms immediately wrapped around yourself shivering as you shuffled across the wood slats and up the short stairs.

You let out a relieved sigh once your shoulders were below the warm water across from him. “You’re fucking crazy.”

He gave you his signature eye roll, “Loosen up will ya? You’re always so stiff.”

You couldn’t help but let out loud scoff, “Me? Nah, that’s all you Actor.”

He let a chuckle as he lulled his head back, his arms resting on the edge of the tub. “Yeah, I guess I could stand to loosen up a little.”

“That’s a fucking understatement.” The edges of your lips tied into a smile.

“Hey,” He furrowed his thick brows at you, his face only illuminated by the blue tone of the pool. “That’s not very nice.” A light flick of water propelled at you from his fingertips.

“Hey!” You dodged the attack, “That wasn’t very nice.” Splashing warm water back at him.

“Oh, I don’t think you wanna play this game, Intern.” He brows propped up throwing another wave of water at you.

“Oh, I think I do Actor.” Swimming diagonal from him giving you a new angle to battle him with a rush of water.

He feigned surprise, “You’re goin’ down.” Mimicking your actions, getting you good that time, soaking you completely.

A giggle left your mouth as you attempted to swim in the opposite direction splashing him back once more. You heard another foreign laugh from him matching yours. “No, you’re goin’ down buddy.”

In some miscalculation you ended up near him and mid splashing war you felt familiar sizable hands take hold of your waist pulling you into his lap.

What kinda twilight zone were you in when this menace was play fighting and giggling with you?

After the initial stun of the move, you caught your breath your eyes meeting his. The ebbing waves from the tub reflected into his aqua eyes, the ripples of the water seemed to swim in them.

Silence fell between you both as the laughter had dissipated and the only communication was in your stare. You tried to place his thoughts by analyzing his eyes. At that point you had gotten fairly good at reading him though this sight was new, and you had no clue at what was behind it.

His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, the proximity of him now very apparent. The scent of bourbon laid thick on his breath. Your own air lodged in your throat as you took in the sight of him. Under the glow of the moon, he looked so soft, a lens you’d never seen him through before. He was so exquisite like that - flushed rosy cheeks, drunken glossy eyes and all.

Your entire body froze when his lips met yours, his arms wrapping around your torso. Whether it was the alcohol, the moon or your genuine desire, something let yourself melt into it fully. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened the kiss. You expected him to escalate it with his tongue the way he did before, but he didn’t, his lips just took yours in completely.

You decided to take the plunge and slide your tongue against his bottom lip asking for entrance and he complied. His hands slid up your sides pulling you closer and your hands tangled into the little curls at the nape of his neck. The entire experience was different than any other time you’d hooked up with him, it mirrored his current demeanor – soft, gentle. He wasn’t groping and squeezing like he normally did, he just held you as your tongues danced together.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and found a not surprising prominent bulge beneath you. A groan rumbled in his chest when you pressed your panty-covered warmth against his boxer-covered erection.

As you grinded against him, the feeling of his tip nudging your bundle made you so desperate to relieve the rampant buzzing in your core. It was making you weak and was distracting you from the kiss. You reluctantly pulled from his soft lips and fell onto his shoulder letting out tiny whimpers as he rocked his hips against you.

He pressed full kisses in the curvature of your neck causing a churning in your tummy that wasn’t arousal, but something different. Something familiar but you couldn’t quite place. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled into your shoulder, his voice deep and dripping in liquor.

A short breathy whimper involuntarily escaped you, “You think so?” Your inner voice taking no time in reprimanding you for seeking validation from such a douchebag. His names for you weren’t normally so kind, nevertheless a compliment.

“Mhm,” He hummed against your shoulder, his hand tangling in your hair as he peppered kisses across your skin. “The prettiest.” He whispered below your ear, unleashing a kaleidoscope of butterflies throughout your chest, your ribcage locking them in. You knew it was the alcohol talking but you clung to every word.

You were so needy for him that only small moans left your mouth, “Please Austin, I need your cock.” You breathed out, your heart beating so hard you thought it might pop out. Your hips rutted against his length the wet material of your panties allowing your lips to part around his shaft, teasing him with your entrance. “Please?” Exaggerating your whine.

He groaned at your actions, fingers harshly digging into your thighs. “No.” He said simply, his touch now gliding up your thighs, “Let me take care of you.”

His response took you by surprise, “W-what?” You stuttered but didn’t pull from him. A hand drew up your inner thigh, scorching the skin it passed, then fingers up your panties.

“Let me take care of you baby.” He repeated, his fingertips easily pulling your panties to the side and rolled the pads of his fingers around your clit. A gasp left your lips at the sudden pleasure.

“Fuck.” You faintly muttered against his neck and leaned into his touch. “Please. I need you.” Your right hand tugging at his hair and the left curling into his shoulder.

“I wanna try something, do you trust me?” He asked, the question throwing you off, both at what he could possibly be thinking and whether you knew the answer. It occurred to you that it was the second time he’d asked you that impossible question, the first time in the saloon on set. You wondered on what planet he was living on where he had given you any reason to trust him. If anything, he should be the last person on earth to trust. And yet, you lied, “Hm- Yes.” Curious to find out his idea.

He purred against your shoulder and gently lifted your hips off of him then placed you across his lap. With one hand he slid your panties down your legs and draped it over the edge of the pool. You held onto him by an arm around his neck as his hand slid up your thighs again and spread them wide.

The pads of his fingers once again found your core, rounding your swollen nub then down dipping into your entrance. “Fuck.” You breathed out as his digits curled into your sweet spot. You let him float you to the edge of the tub, it was unclear to you why until you felt the strong stream of water from one of the jets. A sharp gasp fell from your lips at the immediate pressure.

“Oh my god,” Your chest was heaving, and your nails dug into his back. While the jet took care of your clit, his fingers were taking care of your core, fucking you in a way you never thought fingers could. It was rhythmic like a choreographed dance, every pump into your pussy landed in a curl into your g-spot and you never knew you could feel so much pleasure from so many areas at once. Your heart was thumping in your throat with a tight knot in your stomach threatening you to unravel already. “Oh my god Austin.”

“I know baby, I know.” He continued his plight on your neck, trailing passionate kisses all over it. “Feels good doesn’t it?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah- Fuck.” You could barely hear him over the pounding in your ears. His little experiment with you was overriding every nerve, waves of tingling pleasure washing through you, even causing your toes to curl. “Fuck Aus, I’m close I’m so fucking close.” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut barely holding on to your sanity. The bliss was practically numbing your brain, every thought was him, only him. His eyes that could make you wet with just one look, his plump lips that stamped kisses all over you, his skilled tongue against your own and even better on your clit, the curve of his neck and collar bone where you’d place your own kisses, his agile hips that allowed him to drill his perfect fucking cock into you. Right then you could’ve sworn he was some Greek god from the insurmountable euphoria that possessed your body.

His mouth pulled your skin into a suck while his tongue swirled over the darkening spot. “Let it out baby c’mon, cum for me.” His deep voice rumbled against your neck. That and a perfectly synchronized hit of the jet stream on your throbbing bundle and his fingers curved into you, set off your climax. The height of your orgasm ripped through you so violently that your moans were completely silent – which you we’re grateful for because you knew your coworkers were just above you. Your nails dug into his shoulder and your thighs clamped around his hand and you heard him let out a sort of entertained chuckle. If you weren’t underwater your juices most definitely would’ve soaked his thigh completely.

Once fully spent, you fell limp on his chest, heavy breaths flowing into his neck, “Fuck.” You murmured. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you closer against him. The act was so intimate compared to… well any other interaction you’d had with him. He was always so cold and rigid, now he was tender and warm. You blinked up at him, his focus on the stars above you. Even his moonlit features were soft compared to his normal sharp edges. “You sure like to use water fixtures as sex toys huh.” You tugged a lip between your teeth hoping the joke would land.

He took a moment to respond, his brows scrunching together before looking down at you, “Huh?”

You let out a tiny giggle, “Because the faucet on set-“

“Oh oh, yeah!” He boomed a drunken laugh straight from deep in his chest, “Yeah, I guess I do.” Looking down at you, for a moment you couldn’t tell the difference between the stary midnight sky behind him and the twinkling navy in his eyes. “Did you not like it? Because it seemed like you did-“ His voice sounded almost insecure, as if he was worried about disappointing you. The hint of insecurity echoed the one from earlier in the hotel room, about his glasses.

“No, no I definitely do.” You laughed, pulling yourself up to wrap both arms around his neck, straddling him once again. “I’ve just never been with someone so… innovative.” Your lips pressed together to stifle a chuckle.

The joke earned you another hearty laugh from the glowing blonde, which made you realize you’d barely heard him laugh before, nonetheless smile. And right now, he was a grinning mess, and he hadn’t even cum. From the lack of stiffness beneath you it seemed that the alcohol had taken its toll. Under any other circumstances, if there was a more competitive game at play, you would’ve tried your hardest to return the favor. But he was giggly and touchy and the nicest you’d ever seen him, you didn’t want to cut it short, so you laid against his shoulder again just taking in his breathing.

“You’re pretty funny.” He said once he caught his breath from laughing.

“Yeah?” You blushed and a giant grin pulled at your lip’s edges, for some reason you felt embarrassed and hid further into his neck. “I’m glad you think so.” You whispered beneath his ear and molded your body further around his, taking advantage of his warmth. He reciprocated, wrapping you up in his arms.

Silence fell for what felt like an eternity and you thought for sure the moment was about to end, and this unicorn version of asshole actor would disappear. But he surprised you yet again.

“I’m hungry.” He stated simply, “I want fries.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “What?”

“I want fries!” He repeated, matter-of-factly. “We should go get fries.”

“Austin, where the fuck are we gonna get fries? The kitchens are closed and it’s not like we can DoorDash in a snowstorm.” You stated the obvious, sitting up in his lap.

You watched the gears churning in his head as if it was a difficult equation before the most mischievous playful smirk spread across his face. Immediately you knew it couldn’t mean anything good. “Austin,” You warned, propping up a cautious eyebrow, “What are you thinking.”

He practically threw you off of him, landing you to be floating alone in what now seemed like a giant empty ocean without him in it. He scrambled quickly into the hotel room, dripping water across the carpet, only in some plaid boxers. Once the blur of the action caught up to you, you followed suit, nearly flying out of the tub into the freezing cold air. “What are you doing!” You called after him as he hastily dried off with a towel and changed into sweats and a hoodie faster than you’d ever seen anyone move.

The mischievous smile never left his face in his hurried actions and stayed focused on his mission. In that moment you realized you were now babysitting a drunken toddler. Like any good caretaker, you matched his speed but soon remembered your limited wardrobe choices. He was already halfway out the door and the only reasonably warm and accessible choices were another hoodie and pair of sweats from his duffle.

“Austin!” You first shouted loudly after him, stumbling out the door trying to slide fully into your sneakers. Then in a more hushed yell, not wanting to wake the entire lodge at 2 am. “Where are you going!”

“Fries!” He threw over his shoulder as he booked it down the stairs.

“Hey! Slow down!” Taking a moment to catch your breath before following him down the two flights of mahogany stairs. “You couldn’t have taken the elevator at least?”

Finally, you caught up to him, standing in front of the restaurant that hosted the rotating buffet during the day. You leaned over attempting to catch your breath gripping your chest, reminding you that maybe a weekly gym day wouldn’t hurt. “They’re clearly closed Aus.” You huffed out, gesturing your arm at the darkened restaurant. The way it was laid out was that the floor was open so the buffet serving areas and seating were open, but the kitchen was locked. He was bent over eyeing the lock. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”

“Hmmm.” He hummed and stood up to face you, he held his tongue between his lips as he seemed to analyze you, then reached into your damp hair and plucked out a bobby pin you had forgotten was in there. He went back to his crouched position, unfolding the metal accessory in his sizable hands.

“No no no.” You whispered, “Austin you’re gonna get us in trouble what are you doing!”

“I’m opening a door that we found, already open y/n, obviously.” He slid the pin into the keyhole and wiggled it around.

“Oh god you’re really doing this aren’t you.” You brought a hand to your temple.

It didn’t take long for the doorknob to click open, probably because the hotel didn’t think patrons would be breaking in. “Aha!” He proclaimed, flinging the door open and turning on the blinding overhead lights. Relief washed over you when you didn’t hear immediate alarms blaring.

“I fucking can’t believe you’re doing this.” You exasperated, dropping your arms at your sides, “You know there aren’t going to be just magically fresh fries right?”

“Relax Intern,” His mission stayed focused on pillaging the stainless-steel industrial kitchen for his desired snack. “I know what I’m doing.” Waving you off.

“Oh,” You placed both hands on your hips, “You break into kitchens often?”

He shot you an unimpressed look, “No, if you must know,” He somehow miraculously found the frozen fries. “I used to work in a kitchen, I know how to make some pretty fuckin’ dope fries.” He inspected the knobs of the deep fryer and clicked it to a high setting.

“Oh, you mean before you were just an actor?” You sassed, crossing your arms across your chest and popping out a hip.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Believe it or not I was once a struggling actor.” The fries sizzled in the oil when he dunked an obscene amount of into the appliance.

“Ah, I see the humbleness didn’t stick around.” You teased back, walking over to the wall and flipped off 3/4ths of the blinding fluorescent lights, leaving only the one’s above the counters.

He shot you another glare, “Keep talkin’ like that and ya aren’t gonna get any fries.”

You contemplated continuing your defiance but ultimately decided the midnight snack was more important. They were already in the fryer after all, might as well follow through.

He drew the fries from the oil, threw them into a giant silver bowl, and salted them like a pro, tossing them in the air and everything.

You ended up on the floor of the dark kitchen, sat across from him binging on the perfectly golden fries and a random wine bottle you’d found. For someone who was evidently wasted, they were beyond impressive. “Damn, you weren’t lying, these are so fucking good.” You complimented then shoved a handful of salty fries into your mouth. On a first date, you’d never eat like that in front of anyone, but this wasn’t a first date, this was a drunken adventure with an asshole.

“I told you.” He went for another fistful of salted potatoes. “I was the best damn line cook that surf and turf place had ever seen.” He sassed, waving a fry for extra attitude.

Your eyes rolled involuntarily, “You so would work at a surf and turf restaurant.”

He feigned insult with a dropped jaw, “What is that supposed to mean!”

You giggled and shrugged, taking a sip from the wine bottle. “You just give that typa vibe.” You teased, covering your mouth to hide the chuckle that threatened to erupt.

“Well, that’s not very nice.” He picked up a fry and tossing it at you. He shot a smirk at you then stole the wine bottle, taking a long swig. His plump lips molded around the bottle opening, his adam’s apple bobbed with his swallow.

You gasped, “You’re not very nice.” You plucked a fry from the heap and hurled it back at him. His gaze turned to a playful one, moving slowly to the bowl scooping a bundle of fries and heaving them at you.

“You’re a fucking child you know that?” Your tone serious but gasping an equal bit of fries while he was focused on your expression, throwing it right back at him. First the water fight and now this? Who the fuck abducted Actor and who was sitting across from you?

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” He sat up on his knees, taking a fistful of your improvised dinner and aimed a bit too close to your face. Your hands immediately covered your eyes, “Ow!” You whined, sitting back on your legs, “You hit my eye!”

Instantly you heard him move the bowl and wine out of the way to cross the gap between you. “Oh my god I’m so sorry.” The hands that normally had been so rough on you, now delicately holding onto your wrists.

“It really hurts.” You whimpered, not moving your hands from your face.

“I didn’t mean to y/n, I swear.” He said softly then gently tugging at your hands. “C’mon let me see, we can wash out your eyes or something.”

A mischievous smirk spread across your lips beneath your hands, taking the fries that landed on you and smushing them into his chest. “Ha! I gotcha!”

Utter shock softened his face once he realized he’d been played. “That’s not fucking funny, I thought I- that I had-“ He struggled to find his words amidst the swirl of competitiveness and deception. It seemed as though his thoughts had halted as he watched your expression. The silence bounding around the industrial kitchen was haunting, unsure as to whether he was actually upset or if he would counter your move.

While you were attempting to decipher his motives, he abruptly took your cheeks into his large hands and pulled you into a kiss. The way his lips felt pressed against yours sent flutters down into your tummy, but they were different than the usual flurries of desire he gave you, these almost made you sick.

It took no time for your own hands to find a home tangled his hair. He inched forward indicating that he wanted you to lay back and you obeyed the silent request, slowly leaning back to land flat against the thankfully freshly mopped floor.

The kiss was tender, not hungry or ravenous, not even pushing to enter your mouth. In that moment, he wasn’t looking for anything more than that.

Your lips stayed locked for what seemed like a lifetime. A part of you almost grew uncomfortable at the intimacy, reflexively wanting to deepen the kiss. That’s all he’d ever wanted before after all, wasn’t it? You’d never had just a kiss before, with no ulterior motives. Why would he?

So, you wanted to fast forward to the part you knew was coming, not wanting to linger in a meaningless moment longer than necessary. You couldn’t afford to hold onto a fantasy, nor did you want to. But every muscle in your body ceased to function. His hands held your face and drew the pads of his thumbs across your cheekbones gently while your fingers traveled through his hair like a maze.

He was the exactly that - a maze, a human embodiment of one. You followed each path of his thinking you figured the way out, only to find you had no idea what you were doing or where you were going. You were trapped within an impossible labyrinth you never meant to enter.

His lips struggled to demagnetize from yours and hovered above your face. His navy eyes swirled reluctance, seemingly lost in some maze of his own. “I uh-“ He sat back on his legs, scratching the back of his head and eyes diverting from you. “We should probably head back to the room.”

And just like that, you reached another dead end in his labyrinth.

When you woke the next morning, the bed was empty. At first it took you by surprise, then a pit formed in your stomach. It was naïve of you to think that your drunken adventures with a rare Austin would change anything, foolish to think that version of him would stick around in the sober daylight. You wanted so badly to believe that wasn’t the truth, but you knew it was.

It dawned on you, why did that pit even form? This was the shithead that tormented you at work, treated you like shit and called you insufferable. In what twisted reality should you be sad that the illusion of a decent human fueled by alcohol didn’t stay for breakfast. At what point did you decide you wanted that version of him to stay? That’s not really what you want, was it? Of course not.

You brought your palms and pressed them into your eyes in a feeble attempt to clear out the thoughts swirling in your head. In a swift fling of the thick bedding, you unglued yourself from the bed, shuffling over to the window to check on the snow status. Thick snow still coated every surface, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before, which meant that you’d probably be freed from this prison in the next day or two.

“Thank fucking god.” You mumbled to yourself, instinctively tucking your arms into your sides when you felt a chill. It was only then that you realized that you were still wearing his clothes. For whatever reason, you did a quick scan of the room as if someone would see you pulling up the collar of the hoodie taking an inhale. It smelled like him mingled with his cologne, a woodsy musk. You mentally scolded yourself when the tinge of longing filled your chest. Why the fuck would you miss him?

Then the memory of you sitting with him on the kitchen floor flashed across your mind pulling a giddy grin across your lips. “Fucking stop it.” Smacking your palm into your forehead. You shook your head trying to shake out whatever fucked up disease had taken over your mind, that was the only explanation for what you were feeling. The best way you could think of trying to remedy this ailment of yours was to take a long, hot shower. Maybe it’d wash it all away.

Once in the bathroom you let out a groan when you noticed all the towels were used and thrown about. “Fucking men.”

You headed down to the lobby and got the attention of a clerk. “Hi sorry to bother you but could I possibly get some more towels?”

“Sure of course! It’s no bother sweetie.” The middle-aged attendant sweetly smiled before heading into the back office.

She returned with a tower of fresh white towels. “There you go hon.” Placing them on the granite counter in front of you, “Your boyfriend use ‘em all?” She questioned in a joking tone.

You reflexively scoffed, “He’s definitely not my boyfriend.”

“Hm.” She pressed her lips together as if she had more to say but didn’t want to divulge.

“What?” You asked curiously, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well it’s just- well I remembered you both from the night the snowstorm first hit so-“ She seemed to be trying to piece together some pieces of a puzzle in her head.

“…Mhm?” You urged on curious as to where this could possibly be going.

“So, when we had a vacancy open up yesterday, we called and asked him if he wanted to take it.” You knitted your brows together as you now tried to piece together the puzzle. “And well… he declined. So, I just assumed…”

“He turned down a room to himself?” You repeated for clarification, which was met with a timid nod, obviously feeling guilty for sharing personal information. “I uh, I have to go.” You stated shortly, snatching the tower of towels, “Thank you so much!” You thanked while you quickly made it back to the room.

After your much needed long, hot shower you decided to roam the all-inclusive resort. The only perk of being there was that there was decent amount of things to do during the day. From bars to in house casinos, arcades, spas, even a bowling alley. While you told yourself it was because you were bored, in the pit of your tummy there was a part of you that hoped you’d bump into your…enemy?

You wandered around the wooden halls of the resort with a pamphlet of all your options. Each corridor, room and lobby were decorated in typical lodge décor, animal heads on the wall, buffalo print everything, luxurious fireplaces. Everything except the deer heads was stunning, if you visited under different circumstances the mini vacation would’ve been a tranquil little getaway.

Since Austin supposedly hated you, Landon was a creep and Tom had his own friend group, you were alone. There was a door at the very end of the hallway that intrigued you. Once you peered in you saw a much cozier den-style bar, a huge square sectional couch facing a stone fireplace. On the opposite a very quaint bar. As you scanned the room for possible acquaintances you landed on a group of familiar faces.

“Y/N!” Called Tom, “You’re just in time. We’re just about to play truth or dare!”

What we were in 6th grade?

You locked eyes with your resident tormentor, because of course he’d be there. There was a split second where you thought things would be different after last night but when he gave you a warning look to decline the game offer, you knew it was a pipe dream. That gentle, playful man from the hot tub and the kitchen was gone, just like that. Then, the hatred you’d always felt before piped back into you, like a coffee pot filling with molten hot caffeine. Keeping eye contact with him the edges of your lips curled into a cocky smile, “Sounds great.” You sauntered over to the place next to Tom that faced opposite of Austin.

A few rounds of the game ensued, nothing too juicy at first but the game soon heated up when the group had downed a fair number of drinks. It was a stagehand’s turn to dare Austin. The brunette male, who had been working near many of your interactions together, gave him a playful smirk, “I dare you…” His eyes landed on you, “To make out with y/n.”

How fucking juvenile

You weren’t sure why the absolute jarring panic settled into your stomach, but Austin’s expression of immediate disgust didn’t help.

“I’m not doing that.” He said sternly, his tone oddly irritated.

“Oh, c’mon dude, it’s just a kiss.” The stagehand, Ryan, prodded jokingly.

“No. I’m not fucking doing it, give me a truth.” His brows low and knitted, eyes dark and mean.

“Fine.” Ryan, clearly annoyed and drunk, matched his unnecessarily angry tone, “Have you fucked the intern?” The question hushed every person around the fireplace, an uneasy tension filled in the air.

Blood rushed to Austin’s face and a vein pulsed in his forehead. He was trying to restrain his anger, squeezing his fists to stave it off. Your own steaming coffee pot was on the verge of overflowing.

Whether it was the tequila or something else that fueled you was unclear but you balled up your own fists, and before you could stop yourself, the words flew out, “I’m not a fucking intern!” You boomed out louder than intended and shooting you straight up on your feet.

Austin rolled his eyes, sharply pushing off from the couch, “I’m fuckin’ outta here.” He scoffed, headed for the doorway.

“Answer the question you fuckin’ pussy!” Called a way too far gone Ryan. “We already know the answer.” He added in a cocky snide.

Any sinister look you’d ever seen on Austin didn’t compare to the one that bore into Ryan. You were surprised his fist wasn’t bashed into his face already, if there weren’t so many witnesses he probably would’ve been pummeled to a mush.

 “Let’s get this fucking straight.” He hissed, his eyes locked on Ryan, never once glancing at you, like you weren’t even in the room. “I have never and will never put my hands on such a low budget, low level, filthy whore nobody of an Intern.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor at his words, a consequential dagger speared right through your intestines. You knew he hated you, he called you insufferable. You knew he hated you, you knew it even after last night, but you never expected him to say such vile words about you. A lump formed in your throat and tears welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry there – not in front of all your coworkers, not after being completely and utterly humiliated. Every ounce of alcohol in your bloodstream fueled your stomp over to him and didn’t even realize what you had done until you felt your palm stinging like a bitch from landing on his face. His hand instantly reaching to cover his newly red cheek from your slap, his eyes wide in disbelief, then narrowed with furious realization.

“Fuck you,” You attempted to hide the quiver in your voice, “You fucking rotten, disgusting, repulsive human being.” Your teeth clenched, you knew your little outburst could very well get you fired but there was too much rage and liquor in your body to care.

He did nothing, not a brow raise, not a twist in his face, nothing. Perhaps he’d never had someone talk back to him like that. Without further explanation he just pushed past you, knocking your shoulder back with his weight. The gravity of what just happened settled into your chest, having such a cruel intimate moment in front of all your colleagues was probably the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you. Something you’d never be able to forget, something you could never forgive. Blood rushed to your cheeks as you felt all eyes on you and your heart began to race feeling the purest form of ‘flight’ mode you’d ever had in your life.

When you escaped there was no sign of Austin in sight. You knew he had to have gone back to the room, hopefully to pack his shit and leave. And if he wasn’t then you would, even if you had to beg to stay in someone’s room. All the way up the elevator your heart thumped against your rib cage, shaking out your hands and taking deep breaths mentally preparing yourself for confrontation.

You unlocked the door and found him standing there, looking like he got there just before you did. The anxiety of the confrontation dissipated the moment you laid eyes on his hardened face. “Get out.” You stated harshly, brushing past him yourself mimicking his actions from before.

“Intern there’s nowhere for me to fucking go.” His voice already raised and ready for battle, “I’m not fucking happy about it either but-“

Your brows scrunched together downwards, steam practically pouring from your ears. “You’re a liar! A filthy fucking liar! Get. Out.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not lying-“ He began but his incessant voice was driving you more livid by the minute.

“I know about the fucking vacant room Austin.” You growled, using his name and not Actor to let him know how serious you were. Just from how he opened his mouth to speak you could tell he was about to lie again so you beat him to it. “The front desk lady told me. Tell me Austin, if you hate me so goddamn much then why didn’t you just take the room? To fuck with me? To take me on some stupid drunken adventure to trick me into thinking you actually have a heart?”

He stayed silent, which only made you angrier. You just called him out on his bullshit, and he couldn’t even react. “Actually no, you know what? I’m the fucking liar. Because out there I called you a human being, but you’re too fucked up to be a human, you’re a fucking cockroach – I try to stomp you out but you keep fucking coming back.” When the words left there was an immediate sense of release, everything that had built up in your system spilled out.

“Oh, I’m a cockroach? If I’m such a cockroach, then why do you keep coming back for more huh?” He hissed, his arrogant scrunched face pissed you off even more. He had no right to talk to you like that after what he did. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I was making you cum.” Purposely using jarring sexual defenses to hurt you.

You thought lava was about to start seeping through your skin, what made it worse was that you didn’t have an answer. “Augh!” You grunted, pacing in a short lap, your fingers curling around air. “You are so fucking infuriatingly heartless it’s nauseating!”

He scoffed, “Well, I may be heartless, but you’re fucking naïve.” He snarled. “Naïve to think I would ever actually enjoy your company outside of your body.”

Your jaw dropped, tears pricked your eyes again realizing how senseless you were to have thought he was anything else but the arrogant, cruel man you met that first day on set. The building rage turned your tears into a terrifying laugh, “Oh, my body huh? That’s funny because out there you said you’d never touch me, when in there” Pointing to the back door leading to the hot tub, “You touched me with nothing in return for you. You were the one who wanted to ‘take care of me’, you held me, you called me pretty!” The ending sounding so pathetic, instantly regretting the vulnerability knowing it would be used as ammo.

He cackled, “Oh c’mon Intern you can’t be serious, nobody ever taught you not to believe the things men say when they’re drunk? It didn’t mean anything, I was drunk, I lied.”

The words sliced like blades and every ounce of restraint drained from your body. “You are by far the worst person I’ve ever had the disgrace of knowing. I wish I never fucking met you. If I could go back in time, I would turn down my apprenticeship. My apprenticeship, because I’m not and have never been a fucking intern!” Your voice raised into a yell, “I would throw away my entire career if it meant I could avoid ever crossing paths with you.”

A few moments passed and he was still there, silent and blank. You couldn’t read him at all, if he was angry or sad or insulted. He could’ve easily turned it on you, but he didn’t. He just stared at you.

Everything from the first day on set to the day of the snowstorm, yesterday and everything in between, compounded in your mind. Every insult, every backhanded comment, every accusation replayed in your head. No one had ever made you feel as low and as shitty as he did. The lump from before reclaimed its place in your throat and tears began to pool in your eyes, finally needing real answers. “Why do you treat me like this huh? Why do you say the horrible things you say to me? Call me all the vile names you do? What did I ever fucking do to you?” While you were holding back tears your voice remained furious and combative. “Why do you fucking hate me!”

His brows furrowed and his sharp jaw noticeably clenched, “You’re just fucking infuriating and annoying and it- it just drives me fucking insane!”

“What does! What the fuck do I do that bothers you so fucking much!” You nearly screamed out.

“You- just-“ He was grasping at straws, “No matter how much I try to hate you I fucking can’t!” His words darted from his tongue faster than he had time to process. His widened eyes gave away how much he regretted his slip up.

“W-What?” You stuttered out confused, that being the last thing you expected him to say. The rapid thumping of your heart accelerated, allowing only short breaths and you even felt a little lightheaded. You were overloaded, angry, confused, hurt, heartbroken, embarrassed. The small bit of control you had left was gone and the tears made their full appearance.

The minute he noticed the tears streaming down your face, Austin’s twisted face softened right before your eyes, even softer than the night before. “I-“ He stepped towards you but you immediately winced and recoiled from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You cried out wiping the tears from your face in an attempt to halt them.

In true Austin fashion, he didn’t listen, and his hands found your own on your cheeks. In an even stranger turn of events, he leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips. Then he gently pulled your hands from your face, you looked up at him with watery puzzled eyes. You instinctively smacked his arm to push him away, but his strong arm didn’t budge.

He cupped your cheeks in his hands and placed a tender kiss under each stream of tears. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly after each kiss. Every single action he did was like a twisted turn on rickety rollercoaster ride. He returned to your lips, pressed another kiss followed with, “I’m sorry.” He whispered, an extra pillowy light kiss, “I’m sorry.” He repeated, another kiss, another apology. He trailed his lips down to just below your ear, stamping additional kiss there, “I’m sorry.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he pressed another sloppy kiss below your ear, “I’m sorry.” No matter how furious you were didn’t stop the butterflies in your tummy. A longer, sloppier kiss further down your neck with a raspy, “I’m sorry.” Sent a buzzing through your chest and directly to your hips.

Maybe it was the same for you, no matter what horrible things he did or said to you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you hated him, you couldn’t. Maybe you were just as fucked up as he was.

“I’m sorry, let me show you how much.” He muttered against your skin, his fingers delicately smoothing down your sides like he was plucking a harp.

The shift from abhorrent to sweet gave you whiplash, not knowing which one was genuine. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing any tears out, the salty liquid dripping off your chin. “Austin, I can’t.” You breathed out, the panic attack-like heaving never left. “Austin, you literally just humiliated me in front of everyone. You called me a filthy whore nobody, in front of everyone.” Reluctantly pulling from his grasp. His once venomous eyes now soft and apologetic, but that’s exactly what he did wasn’t it? He’d wrap you back in his hold like prey, constrict you until you were blue in the face, still hypnotizing you with snake eyes. You were a rat and he a cobra trapped in a 10 gallon tank, and he was still convincing you that he wasn’t trying to consume you whole. “I just can’t. I just- I respect myself too much. And I need you to go. I need to be alone.”

He stepped towards you once more, his fingertips ran down the back of your arms reaching your hands, taking them tenderly into his. “I’m so sorry y/n. I won’t do it again. I promise.” He bargained in a tone so quiet you’d think he was paranoid of people hearing him from behind the walls. “I’ll never talk like that ever, ever again.”

“Austin, I don’t know what you want from me.” You slipped from his hands, “But there won’t be another ‘again’. You were right the other day on set, this shouldn’t have happened.” Your voice cracked, “I need you to leave. Now.”  

His look faltered, a look you’d only ever seen on the faces of defeated Olympians. “Okay.” He said lowly, stepping forward and cupping your face then pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His misty blue eyes looked down at you, “If you ever wanna cash in that apology, you know where to find me.”

Without another word he gathered his things and left to find the other room. The minute he was out the door, every emotion you had suppressed from the event took over. You doubled over gripping onto your stomach as you heaved, rivers of tears pouring from your eyes. Tight twists and knots wrapped around your abdomen, constricting you like the snake he was.

You stumbled to the bed and fell in it, wrapping the sheets around you and like a 15-year-old with their first heartbreak, you wailed into the pillow. You never felt so worthless, so pathetic, so stupid. You were so fucking stupid for letting him slither his way into you the way he did. How could anyone talk about someone like that? Someone who just last night was so sweet and gentle with you. Someone who said they didn’t mean any of it but then wanted to apologize so tenderly?

It made you sick to think how you let such evil into your body. You weren’t even able to say that you missed the red flags, you didn’t, you saw them clearly and raced past them. He showed you exactly who he was, and still let yourself believe he was something he wasn’t.

Yeah, your house was now haunted, but you were the one who invited the demon in.

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author notes:

thank you all SO much for all the love and support on this story, it has truly been overwhelming. i know my numbers aren't as big as others but they're big to me - appreciate EVERY comment, message, ask, etc. i love you guys so much - i never expected this fic to get that much attention so again, thank you xx

if you enjoyed this story/my writing pls consider giving my main fic, Forever Winter, a read - if you like angsty sad smutty you’ll probably like it lol

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[jungle-angel]

The Greatest Pumpkin Ever Picked (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: It's almost spooky season and you and Bob let Auggie go nuts to try and find the perfect pumpkin

Bozeman, MT

October, 2023

"Never saw a kid so excited to pick out a pumpkin," Joe chuckled as he and Bob slowly trailed behind Auggie, letting him run through the rows and rows of pumpkins in the field behind the farmers' market.

"It's all he talked about all week at school," Bob answered. "Kay, his teacher, was telling me about how they were planning to take the kindergarteners pumpkin picking when I went to go get him."

"Better to do it with the family first," Joe mused.

"Daddy! Daddy! I found it! I found my pumpkin!" Auggie shouted proudly.

"Show me where bud."

Auggie led his father and grandfather to the further end of the field where he pointed proudly to the pumpkin he had claimed as his own. It was huge, a gigantic orange monster that stood in the middle of the field, bigger than all the rest and much bigger than Auggie.

"Holy shit," Bob groaned.

Joe laughed at his son's exasperation. "Hey, the ghoul wants what the ghoul wants."

"Dad, there's no way we're gonna get that monstrosity in the back of the truck," Bob pointed out. "We're gonna need a crane just to lift it."

"Do you not remember what we did when you were that little?" Joe chuckled.

Bob searched his memory for any answer to his father's question until something sparked to life in the back of his mind. "You mean....?"

"Yep," Joe answered.

"How are we gonna do it?"

"Leave that to me."

Bob and Auggie waited patiently for Joe to return, paying for the pumpkin at the front end stall. Finally, Joe came back with the truck, parking it at the bottom of the hill that was just a little bit steeper than Bob had anticipated.

"Alright, lets get that sucker rolled in!" Joe announced.

"We gonna do the Charlie Brown thing Daddy?" Auggie chirped.

"Yep," Bob answered.

Bob helped get Auggie started and once the pumpkin rolled a little bit, Auggie began guiding the pumpkin, rolling it down the hill and running beside it as it picked up speed. He giggled the whole way down as Bob took a video on his phone, laughing at the sight of his meekly framed, bespectacled little mini-me running beside the monstrous pumpkin.

At last the steepness of the hill gave way to the truck bed where the pumpkin landed with tremendous force. The whole truck bobbed up and down like an old low-rider as the huge pumpkin came to rest perfectly in the bed.

"Well that was alot easier than we thought," Joe remarked.

"I just hope the shocks on the truck are ok," Bob told him.

Bob loaded Auggie into his carseat and buckled him in before he and Joe took off with the pumpkin in tow. As soon as the two of them pulled up the long driveway to the house and parked, Bob lifted a yawning Auggie out of the truck and carried him into the house.

"Woah that's one hell of a pumpkin!" you exclaimed, meeting your husband at the door.

"And one sleepy kid," Bob replied, kissing you on the lips. "I'm gonna go put him upstairs for a nap, he's exhausted."

"You do that, I'll set his lunch aside for when he wakes up."

Up to the bedroom Bob went, placing Auggie in his bed and covering him first with the duvet and then his Pinocchio blanket that had warmed him as a baby. Bob tucked the sage green and white crocheted blanket and Auggie's soft Dumbo stuffie in beside him before turning on the little fairy lights in the dark room.

Bob made his way back downstairs, following the smell of the savory lunch you had made while the skies had darkened outside. "You doin ok sweet pea?" he asked, pulling you in and kissing you.

"Now that I can walk around a little bit," you answered. "Princess wasn't really letting me sleep much, but other than that, I'm alright."

"Where's Patrick?"

"He's upstairs, asleep in his room," you answered. "Guess the pumpkin picking tired Auggie out."

"Ran the thing down the hill until he got to the truck," Bob chuckled.

You laughed as the image popped into your mind of little Auggie running after the pumpkin. "You think he'll wake up and we can carve it later?"

"We'll see," Bob answered. "I don't know if we'll be able to fit it in the house though."

You relaxed in his arms, the baby girl in your belly finally settling down long enough to relax herself. You couldn't wait to carve the pumpkin and see Auggie's little face light up at the sight of the future jack-o-lantern that would soon decorate the farm.