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punkshort · 4 days

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i know who you are | 9. the end

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel leaves overnight for a scouting mission. When he returns, you finally confess your feelings for him.

Chapter Warnings: language, amnesia, slow burn, dry humping, some dead bodies 'n stuff, fluff, feelings, smut (18+ MDNI), piv unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), soft!joel, guns?

WC: 9.1K

Series Masterlist

A/N: Two things. One: I don't have the slightest clue how memory loss works and if what I am about to detail in this chapter is even plausible but if television has taught me anything, nothing is impossible only extremely rare. Two: this is the final chapter and it makes me very sad. I wish I could have thought of more storylines to drag this out but at the end of the day, I feel good about how it all came together and I can't thank quite literally hundreds of you enough for reading this each week. It's kind of insane. So, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Also, if anyone wants to toss some one-shot/sequel ideas my way, I am all ears. Much love.

Two Weeks Later

"Joel," you whispered, your head tilted back into the couch cushion while his mouth greedily nipped and sucked at your neck. His hips were grinding lightly against your center and you knew if you didn't stop soon, you would be in trouble. "I think we should slow down."

"Mhmm," he mumbled in agreement, reluctantly pulling his hand from underneath your shirt.

"You're lucky it's still cold enough for me to wear a scarf," you murmured into his hair. He sighed against your neck, finally dragging his mouth away and sat up on the couch while yet another movie went unwatched on the TV.

"Can't seem to get enough of you," he said with a grin, his arm stretching over the back of the sofa. You rolled your eyes dramatically but smiled, pushing yourself up and fixing your shirt before looking at the TV. "Brad Pitt's in this?"

Joel tossed his head back and laughed heartily. "Think he's the main character," he told you, and you scowled at him but he could tell you weren't actually angry.

"Well maybe if you didn't distract me every time we try to watch a damn movie, I would know that."

The past two weeks had been downright perfect. Joel couldn't be any happier. Now that things had changed between you, he craved your touch constantly. Part of him wondered if it was his way of trying to make up for lost time because you weren't wrong: he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had no desire to leave the house or see anybody. All he wanted was to stay holed up with you doing absolutely everything and nothing. He shuddered to think how crazy he would become when you were finally ready to take things further. Tommy will have to drag him by the collar from your bed for his patrol shifts.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, leaning into his side and tucking your legs underneath you, only half listening to the movie.

"Patrol," he answered while the tips of his ears burned red from embarrassment, like you caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. He was perfectly fine waiting as long as it took until you were ready, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about it. And the fact that he already knew what you felt like, what you sounded like, what made you come undone, worked him up even more.

"How are you feeling about getting back out there?" you asked, tipping your head up to look at him. He didn't seem worried but it was hard to tell sometimes.

"Actually, there was somethin' I wanted to talk to you 'bout," he admitted. "And if you don't want me to do it, I won't. I put you through enough shit as it is-"

"Spit it out, Miller," you said, shifting out from under his arm.

"Now that the snow's melted, I wanna take a couple guys and scout the area for any trace of those raiders," he began, watching your face closely. "I won't go far, but..."

"But?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"But I would be gone overnight. Just one night," he assured you quickly when he saw your face.

"Wouldn't the others have already noticed anything out of the ordinary on patrol?" you asked as anxiety began to squeeze your throat. "I don't understand why you need to go out there."

"'Cause I only trust myself to make sure we're safe," he explained. "If somethin' happened to anyone 'cause I led these assholes to our doorstep, I'd never forgive myself. D'you understand?"

You chewed on your lip and glanced down at your lap as you weighed your options. On one hand, you understood where he was coming from. And if no one else on patrol or guard had yet to see or find anything strange, then Joel would most likely not find anything, either. But on the other hand, just simply leaving Jackson was a risk. And even if Joel didn't find any other raiders, he wouldn't mean he would be safe from whoever or whatever else was out there.

Joel pinched your chin and gently tugged your lip from between your teeth, making you snap out of it.

"Can I go with you?"

Joel's face softened. "No, baby. You don't even remember how to shoot a gun. I can't risk it."

Of course, he was right. "Who would you take?"

He smiled and dropped his hand. "Tommy. Neil. George. Couple others offered, too, but I'm not sure how many we wanna bring. Don't wanna stick out like a sore thumb with ten horses out in the middle of the woods."

You relaxed a bit knowing he would be going with some of Jackson's most seasoned patrolmen.

"Okay," you agreed softly. His face lit up and he leaned forward.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you sighed, looking over at the TV as the credits began to roll. He hooked a finger under your chin and dragged your eyes back onto him.

"Thank you," he whispered before pressing his lips firmly against yours, trying with all his might to pour every ounce of affection and adoration he had for you into the kiss. You giggled against his mouth as he tried to push you onto your back once again, but you playfully shoved his shoulder before breaking the kiss and scooting away.

"We told Ellie we'd meet her and Dina for dinner, remember?"

He groaned as if he were in physical pain and reached out for you but you quickly stood up, wagging a finger at him. He gazed up at you from the couch with his brown eyes all wide and gentle.

"I mean it, thank you. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

You blushed and bit your lip as you slowly walked backwards towards the stairs. "You can make it up to me one day."

Joel's gaze darkened and he dug his fingers into the couch cushion. "Just say the word, baby. Anytime. Anywhere."

You laughed and turned towards the steps. "Come on, we should get ready for dinner."

"In a minute," he said as you disappeared upstairs. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to will his raging hard on away before standing up and following you.

You inhaled deeply, your body heavy with sleep as you struggled to focus on Joel's voice.

"Sweetheart, I'm leavin'."

With a groan, you rolled over and reached out for him blindly, your eyes still not fully adjusted to the beam of light shining in from the hallway.

He smiled and grabbed your hands, wrapping them around his neck. He felt your fingers dig into the back of his neck and shoulders as you feebly attempted to pull him towards you.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his scouting mission, so he did as you requested but you were so warm and soft and supple under his touch that he was finding it impossible to leave.

Maybe you planned it that way.

"I'll be back late tomorrow. I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss against your temple, taking an extra moment to savor it. When he pulled away, your fingers tightened around his neck and you lifted your chin, kissing him with an urgency he hadn't expected from your half-awake state.

"Come home to me, Joel," you mumbled, your eyes squinting at him through the darkness. He pulled an arm from around his neck and brought your knuckles to his lips.

"Promise."

It was so hard to leave but he kept reminding himself he was doing it to keep you safe. Regardless of what Tommy thought, something in his gut told him they hadn't seen the last of those raiders. He brought them into the mountains, and he was determined to be the one to finish it.

"I'm still surprised she let you do this," Tommy said a few hours into their travels. George was leading the group while he and Tommy brought up the rear. The forest was silent, save for the birds just beginning to wake in the branches above. After a long, painful winter, it was a relief to hear the first signs of spring.

"What'dya mean let me?" Joel scoffed, but when he locked eyes with Tommy, who was giving him a look that said he saw right through his bullshit, Joel grinned. "Yeah, alright, it took a little work but she understood."

Tommy nodded and went back to paying attention to their surroundings. They were officially in unguarded territory, the nearest patrol route now miles behind them. The trees had yet to fully bloom so it was still rather easy to see through the woods.

"I think you really freaked her out when you left," Tommy said, "she came runnin' to the house that mornin' in a panic. Thought she wouldn't let you leave her sight again after that."

Joel hummed and turned his head so his brother wouldn't see his smile. He didn't want to worry you, but every time he heard something like that, it reminded him how much you cared, even if you couldn't say it just yet.

"So, you two back to normal now or what?" Tommy pried. Joel shot him a look and he shrugged. "We got a long journey here. We can't talk to pass the time?"

"Yeah, mostly back to normal," Joel finally answered, shifting his weight in his saddle. He could already feel his lower back beginning to flare up. "Takin' things slow. Givin' her as much time as she needs."

Tommy nodded, reading between the lines. "Didn't look that slow the other night after dinner," he muttered under his breath, but Joel still heard him.

"She had a couple drinks, is all," he replied with a chuckle. He scratched his chin as he thought back to a few nights prior when you had draped your arms around his shoulders and your face buried against his neck for the better part of thirty minutes. It was late, all of the families had cleared out after dinner, leaving behind the adults to kick back and cut loose a bit. It reminded Joel of a time before the world went to hell. When he and Tommy would go to a bar on a Friday night, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes in the air while the patrons had to shout over a mediocre cover band playing Lynyrd Skynyrd. It was the first time in a long time he felt relaxed and at ease. He watched his brother and wife across the bar steal kisses around conversations with neighbors, grateful for a night out as Ellie had offered to babysit. He had you at his side, sipping whiskey and making a face before you switched to something else.

As the night dragged on, you got a little closer. Then your hand found his knee under the table and you tilted your head into his shoulder, quietly listening to him discuss the plan for the trip with George. He wrapped an arm around your waist but his focus was entirely on George, too concerned with the map he had spread out over the wooden table. George's wife finally came to collect him, telling him she was tired and he was too old to be trying to keep up with the younger men, shot for shot. She wasn't wrong by the way he stood up and stumbled a bit, leading him towards the door, leaving just the two of you at your table. Once you were alone, your arms snaked around his neck and you tugged him to your lips, your tongue greedily licking into his mouth, the heavy taste of whiskey and gin on your combined breath.

"You sure it was just the drinks? You don't think it had anythin' to do with Angie sittin' two tables over?"

Joel's face flushed and he cleared his throat. It shouldn't turn him on but he couldn't help it. He liked it when you were possessive over him.

"Didn't think it wise to ask," was all he said. Tommy chuckled.

The group made decent time. They had a grid in mind and they almost reached their desired destination by sundown. When morning came, the plan was they would make their way back towards Jackson and cover the northeast quadrant of the map.

As they set up camp for the night, deciding to forego a fire since the temperature was comfortable and they didn't want to risk giving away their location, Neil commented that they hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary so far.

"Not that I mind coming out here, Joel," he followed up quickly, "always a good idea to take precautions and all that."

Joel nodded and focused on spreading out his sleeping bag. "I appreciate you all comin'. Not sure if I say it enough, but I'm grateful."

Neil and George exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected appreciation.

They got an early start the next morning, and as the sun rose higher in the sky and more ground was covered, Joel began to wonder if maybe they would make it back to Jackson sooner than he thought. He really hoped they would. Even if it was just one day, he missed you. He hated sleeping without you. He hated waking up and not finding you curled up against him with your head resting on his chest or his arms wrapped about your waist, face buried against the back of your neck.

He was glancing around the forest, wondering what you were doing right at that very moment when he spotted something orange in the distance. His heart rate picked up and he whistled, catching the group's attention. He pointed through the trees and they all silently slid down from their horses. Checking their weapons, they fanned out and slowly made their way towards the scrap of fabric. As they got closer, Joel could see it was a knit cap stuck in a bush, fluttering in the wind. None of the men saw any other signs of life, each of them silently communicating with hand signals they were taught years ago.

Tommy heard shuffling and he held up his hand, bringing the group to an immediate stop. From his angle, Joel could see that the bush with the knit cap was right outside the opening of a small cave. The way the trees had grown around the rocks, it was impossible to notice it from a distance.

The perfect hiding spot.

He exchanged worried looks with Tommy before they crept closer, his rifle gripped tightly in both hands, ready for anything. The shuffling got louder and clearer and it became apparent that the noise was coming from right within the mouth of the cave. Catching Tommy's eye, he made sure to show him he was putting his rifle away in favor of his hunting knife. He always preferred a silent takedown over wasting ammunition, but just in case it went sideways, Tommy would be ready to cover him.

Joel situated himself next to the mouth of the cave while the other men, spread out amongst the trees, hid and waited. He reached down and grabbed a rock, throwing it about ten feet away to draw out whoever was hiding.

He didn't even need to see it to know what was waiting for him.

When the rock cracked against a tree trunk and he heard the telltale snarl of infected, he tightened his grip on his knife. The runner stumbled out of the cave with a shriek, jaw snapping angrily in the direction of the noise. Joel had run into his fair share of infected over the years. He knew the noise would have drawn the attention of any infected in the immediate vicinity, and when he only spotted one, he almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He took it down silently with a blade to the back of the head, then inspected the body. It looked fresh, the clothes mostly intact. The rest of the men joined him as they peered inside the cave, listening intently for any movement. When they heard none, they began to advance.

The cave wasn't very big but it was enough to house ten men. At least, that's the number of bodies they found, not a single trace of life left.

"Well, shit," Tommy muttered, kicking one of the mangled bodies with his boot. "Guess that hunch of yours was right."

It didn't exactly please Joel to know he was right, but at least it was the best possible scenario. The men were taken out by infected probably within the past week. He counted the bodies five times. Then recounted the backpacks and sleeping bags. Ten seemed to be the correct number. No one was missing, assuming the runner he had just killed was the only raider who had the misfortune of turning instead of dying right away.

They scavenged what they could from the dead bodies before trekking back to the horses.

"Keep your heads up. Don't mean there ain't anythin' else out here," Joel warned.

"The warmer weather must've thawed out some infected," Tommy mused next to him. Joel nodded.

"Probably should warn the others to keep their guard up the next few weeks," he replied. "Maybe add an extra body to the towers if we can."

Tommy nodded in agreement. The winters in the mountains were harsh but at least they saw a decrease in the undead.

"Now let's get the hell home," George said over his shoulder, the rest of the men mumbling in agreement. Joel ducked his chin to his chest to hide his relieved smile. Home.

To say you were happy to see him return was an understatement. It was closer to ten at night when you finally heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch.

"Told'ya I'd come back," he chuckled when you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"I know," you mumbled into his shirt. His heart swelled in his chest and he closed his eyes, breathing deep the smell of your shampoo. You both had a lot of work to do, essentially starting over and building a relationship from the ground up, but it was moments like those that made him believe everything was going to work out.

"Are you hungry?"

"Nah, just need a shower," he said, dropping his pack by the door and kicking off his boots.

"So I take it you didn't find anything?" you asked, trailing up the stairs behind him. He walked into your bedroom to grab a fresh set of boxers and sweatpants.

"Actually, we did," he began, and your heart plummeted. He saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. "They were dead by the time we got there. 'Bout ten of 'em holed up in a cave. Infected got to 'em first."

"Oh, wow," you breathed, slowly sinking down onto the bed. "Well, at least you have peace of mind now, right?"

"Exactly," he said, giving you a quick kiss before heading into the bathroom. "Be out in a minute."

You heard the water turn on and you glanced over at the red flannel of Joel's that you slept in the night before. Even though it was clean, it still smelled like him. You glanced at the closed bathroom door and bit your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you thought things over. The morning he left, you wished you had told him but you were too sleepy and you wanted it to be more meaningful. Then, when you woke up and his side of the bed was ice cold, you felt the dread begin to creep up your spine. What if something happened and you never told him how you felt?

Well, nothing happened. He was home now. Safe and sound. There was no reason not to tell him.

You heard the water turn off and you jumped up to grab his flannel and scurried out of the bedroom, across the hall to the other bathroom, shutting the door.

Joel emerged a few minutes later with his wet hair slicked back wearing just a pair of sweatpants, per usual. He tossed his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and looked around. He noticed the closed door across the hall and assumed you were getting ready for bed so he slid between the sheets with a groan. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the mattress underneath him instead of the unforgiving forest floor before leaning over to grab his glasses and a book.

When you tiptoed back into the bedroom wearing only his flannel, he didn't notice at first. His focus was on the small print in front of him, blinking a few times and wondering if he needed stronger lenses when you cleared your throat. He glanced up and did a double take, his lips parting in shock when he saw his red flannel hugging your curves, the hem falling just below your ass.

You looked up at him and feigned surprise. "Oh, is this okay? I was cold-"

"Yes," he swallowed, immediately cutting you off, "it's okay."

You smiled and made a show of bending over to fix the sheets. Again, he swallowed tightly when he caught a glimpse of your black underwear and he felt his cock twitch. Before you turned around he made sure to be focused back on his book, although he was most definitely not absorbing any of the words on the page.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw you peel back the sheets and with a sigh, you tucked yourself in. You glanced over at him, admiring his strong side profile and the way his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

"I missed you," you whispered, and he dragged his eyes from his book to look at you.

"I missed you, too."

You caught the way his eyes flicked down to your chest where you purposely left two buttons undone so you exposed a little bit of cleavage.

"What are you reading?" you asked, and he laughed through his nose.

"I've got no fuckin' idea."

In a flash, his book was discarded and you were in his lap, your mouth hungrily devouring his as he carefully removed his glasses and tossed them to the side. He wrapped both arms around you and held you close to his bare chest, his tongue licking past your teeth eagerly.

"You look so fuckin' good in my clothes," he growled, sounding as if it pained him before biting at your jaw.

"I wore your shirts the whole time you were gone," you admitted, rolling your head back and grinding down on his hips. You bit your lip when you felt how hard he was already. "Almost the whole week. I slept in your bed and-"

"Fuck," Joel groaned, grabbing your face with both hands and feverishly plunged his tongue into your mouth. You moaned and grabbed his shoulders, the intensity behind the kiss growing too hot. You could feel yourself tumbling, free-falling into the abyss with the unspoken words sitting heavy on your tongue, hoping Joel would be there to catch you.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling away, but only a little. Your forehead still rested against his as you both panted for air.

"I know, I'm sorry-" he was about to apologize for taking things too far when you cut him off.

"Do you remember all those months ago when I asked how I fell in love with you?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said?"

He tilted his head back, lips parted as he gazed up at you, wondering why you were asking him those questions in that moment.

"Yeah," he replied slowly, "I said you're gonna have to wait to find out."

You bit your lip and with a shaky hand, you traced one of the wrinkles next to his eyes. "Well, I found out."

His chest stilled, breath caught in his throat as he processed your words. His eyes roamed over your face, hoping and praying he wasn't misunderstanding. When you saw him nervously swallow, you smiled.

"I love you, Joel."

His eyebrows pinched together and before you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, he pulled you down for another searing kiss. This time, he went slower. He savored every second, he memorized everything he possibly could about that moment because the way you made him feel hearing those words was unlike anything he ever experienced and he didn't want to take a single second for granted.

"I love you, too," he choked. He could feel you smile against his lips when he pressed his mouth against yours again. "Fuck, I love you so much," he mumbled, his hands falling to your hips, "I'd do anythin' for you."

Your mouth latched onto his throat and you dropped your hand between your bodies, your fingers lightly stroking him through his pants. And once again, you felt his muscles stiffen and freeze.

For a moment, the self-doubt crept in. What if he didn't want to? Was he too tired? Was he not ready? Then his hand covered your wrist and you watched as he slowly dragged your hand up and down, showing you what he liked. Encouraging you to continue. So you did.

His head tipped back against the headboard with a sigh and he squeezed his eyes shut, removing his hand and letting you take control. He wanted - no, needed - you to call the shots. You needed to take it as far as you wanted to take it.

When your fingers dipped below his waistband, he tensed.

When he finally felt your soft touch on his cock, he groaned.

It was better than he even remembered. His eyes were still closed as you worked him up and down, the arousal pooling between your legs the longer you spent just feeling him and not seeing him.

"I want you," you whispered in his ear, and his hips jolted as he whined against your shoulder. You wanted him.

When he opened his eyes, he looked absolutely wrecked. You could see that he was trying his best to hold back, trying his best to make sure you were comfortable, that you weren't feeling pressured, that you really wanted it.

But when you sweetly whispered please, Joel, he didn't hesitate. He flipped you onto your back and pulled hastily at the buttons of his flannel while he cemented his mouth against yours. Your hands drifted to his hair and back, pulling and scratching as you went while he finally flung open the shirt. He instantly latched his lips around your nipple, making you moan and arch your back underneath him.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your chest. "Tell me again."

You smiled and peered down at him. "I love you."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his exhale fanning over your skin, making your nipples tighten. His rough hands slid down your stomach, thick fingers splayed wide, trying to touch as much of you as possible at once.

You could hear your heartbeat thrumming steadily in your ears when he dipped his fingers below the elastic of your underwear, a deafening sound that made it hard to focus but when he slid a finger slowly through your arousal, your senses suddenly sharpened. The house could have been on fire but you never would have known because all you could focus on was him.

He dragged his open mouth across your chest, teeth grazing over your collarbone, tongue flicking out and tasting you as he went. His lips puckered and sucked at your skin as he pet gently at your entrance, making you squirm with need and tug impatiently at his hair. When he pulled his hand out of your underwear, you made a frustrated little noise that made him smile. He popped his finger into his mouth and you watched, struggling to breathe, as his eyes fluttered closed and he moaned like he had just slipped into a warm bath after a hard day.

"God, I missed that," he whispered, and the look on his face made you actually believe him.

"Joel..." you breathed, plucking feebly at the waistband of his sweatpants.

"Lemme just make you come on my mouth first," and before you could respond, he was shimmying down between your legs and tugging off your panties. When you glanced down and saw how good it looked with his head between your legs, you relaxed and leaned back. How could you argue with that view?

"Oh," you sighed when his tongue first slid through your folds. You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, allowing your muscles to melt under his touch. His hands held your thighs open but he didn't need to bother. There was no possible way you would do anything to stop him. Not when he felt so good, taking his time and expertly lavishing your core with his tongue. And perhaps he was an expert. At least when it came to you, he had five years of experience to fall back on. He surely must have figured out what you liked in all that time.

Your breath was growing ragged and you could feel the heat creeping up your chest. He pressed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees up towards your chest so he could devour every inch of you, eating messily at your cunt. You pulled your knees back and hooked your hands around each one, your thighs becoming too shaky to hold open with your own strength.

It was a combination of his lips wrapping around your clit and the deep groan that rumbled through his chest that made you come undone the first time. Instant relief flashed through your body and you released your knees, letting your legs fall limply onto the quilt while he eagerly cleaned you up with his tongue.

When he sensed it was too much, he began peppering kisses along your inner thighs, murmuring praise into your skin as he went. You opened your eyes and peered down at him, your breath getting caught in your throat at the sight. His mouth and beard were glistening with your slick, his own eyes remained shut as he mindlessly nipped and kissed your skin, but even from your angle you could see him rutting his hips into the mattress, looking for any amount of friction to relieve the ache.

You reached your arms out to him and he inched up but stopped at your stomach. He sighed and rested the side of his head against your belly, listening to your breath evening out as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist. It took you by surprise that he wasn't immediately jumping at the chance to chase his own release when it was clear just a moment before he was dying for it. You glanced down at him and smiled when you saw the look on his face, simply content with just holding and being close to you. Carding your fingers through his curls, you heard him hum before pressing a gentle kiss against your stomach.

It might have been that moment when you realized he was right. What you had was special and rare. You could feel it in your bones, the way a look or touch sent a jolt right through you. The way you felt drawn to him, even from the very first day of your accident, you could sense something in him. You had no idea at the time what it was, but you were beginning to understand now.

"Joel?" you whispered, worried he might have somehow fallen asleep. Then you felt it. The first hot teardrop hit your skin and your heart clenched. "C'mere," you said, tugging at his shoulders. Begrudgingly, he obeyed. And after his arms loosened and he unpeeled his wet face from your belly, you saw the anguish in his eyes. All watery and wide and guilt-ridden.

"I don't deserve you," he said softly, his voice breaking a bit as you cupped his jaw. "Never did and definitely don't now. Not after everything I've done. Don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your love."

You shushed him and pressed your lips tenderly against his, your thumb wiping away his tears as they fell.

"Don't tell me who I can and cannot love," you said, taking his chin in your hand and giving it a firm shake, like you were punishing him. He chuckled thickly through the tears.

You pulled him down by the back of his neck and kissed him slower, your tongue just barely dipping into his mouth. He groaned when you began to plant wet kisses along his jaw and you noticed with pride that his chest was rising and falling faster than usual while his hips ground into yours.

"Love you s'much," he almost sounded drunk, the feel of your mouth over his skin clouding his mind and mushing his words together.

"Yeah?" you asked before sucking a bruise where his jaw met his throat. "Then show me."

Joel kicked off his sweatpants and boxers with a grunt but when you went to remove his flannel from around your shoulders, he stopped you.

"Leave it on."

Your cheeks flared with heat at the way he looked at you and all you could do was nod and bite your lip.

It felt like time stood still when you first felt him enter you. Like nothing else in the world mattered outside of those four walls. He held your gaze and your fingers dug into his back, each of you savoring the stretch with your mouths hung open, the only sound was the occasional sharp little breath or gasp from one or both of you.

You could see it in his face again and you had a feeling you mirrored his look. It was too intense. Too overwhelming. So much had happened that led up to that moment: all the fear, sadness, laughter, arguments, long talks and shared traumas came crashing down at once. A tear slid down your cheek right when his hips came flush with yours and he leaned down to kiss it away.

"You okay?"

You nodded and wiped another tear away with the back of your hand.

"It's just a lot, y'know?" you sniffled, hoping he understood. And he did.

His eyes glistened and he smiled, his fingers brushing away a few stray pieces of hair from your face. "I know. We've come a long way."

"Yeah," you whispered, blinking back more tears. Your fingertips traced his bottom lip, your eyes flickering around his face, taking in every little crease and dimple. "Kiss me."

He did as you asked, kissing you slow and deep, matching pace with his hips. Your fingers dug into his arms, holding onto him, keeping him close. His hand pushed his flannel back, exposing one of your shoulders while your head tilted back into the pillows, momentarily breaking away for air. You moaned softly when he began to grind his hips against you, providing your clit with some much needed stimulation while he dragged his mouth down the column of your throat and across your collarbone. When he sunk his teeth gently into your shoulder, he felt you clench around him and gasp.

How's that feel?

Do that again.

Tell me you love me.

I love you.

Those sweet, desperate whispers were shared, breathed into each other's mouths, every word dragged out, every touch deliberate and slow. Neither of you in the mood to rush a thing as your fingers tightly laced together next to your head.

His other hand skirted around your back and under his shirt, palm pressing against your spine, pulling you closer to him, if it was even possible. He flexed his hips and you groaned when the tip of his cock hit a spot that had your entire body buzzing.

"Right there," you whimpered into his neck, brows pinched together and stomach tightening as you concentrated on the fire being stoked deep within you. Every one of his powerful thrusts was adding fuel to the flames. Your skin was slick with sweat and you began to regret keeping his flannel on.

"I know, baby. I remember," he whispered, tightening his grip on you. "Fuck, y'feel so good, I can't-"

"Don't stop! Please, Joel, more," you begged, tears welling up and spilling down your cheeks the closer and closer he pushed you to the edge. Your thighs tensed around his waist and his lips kissed the tears away and when you came, crying his name into his skin, he soothed you. He told you how much he loved you, how much he missed being so close to you, reminded you he was right there, that he had you and everything was okay.

Moments later, you felt his body tremble and his hips stutter. In a haze, you loosened your legs from around his waist. His lips captured yours frantically, fast puffs of exhale fanning over your cheek as he got more and more lost in chasing his climax. Your shaking fingers reached up to get tangled in his hair, ensuring his mouth remained firmly planted against your lips, muffling his groans and garbled versions of your name and I love yous, swallowing everything down until he yanked his hips away, spilling himself all over your stomach.

You both broke the kiss and looked down between your bodies, watching as each weak thrust painted your skin with more and more of his release until he finally stilled and shuddered.

After he finally forced himself to stand, he cleaned you up and slipped back into bed, one of his legs sticking out from underneath the covers, still slightly panting for air. You curled into his side, his arm wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him, his nose getting buried in your hair as you listened to each other's breaths even out. You quietly told him about a wound you stitched up at work all by yourself the day before and he told you how proud he was of you. You listened to him tell you a little more about his trip, how relieved he felt now that he confirmed with his own eyes Jackson was safe. At least, for the time being.

The last thing you remembered was him telling you how much he hated sleeping on the ground and how much he missed you while his knuckles soothingly dragged over your stomach but all you could think about was the warm glow that radiated from your skin and the delicious soreness between your legs as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you heard birds singing outside your window. You smiled before you even opened your eyes. Spring was coming. You always loved spring. Something about it made you hopeful and calm, and that morning was no exception.

You awoke still wrapped in his arms and his flannel, your cheek pressed against his bare chest, one of your legs slotted between his, enjoying the peace and quiet the morning brought.

"I thought you died," you admitted quietly once he woke, your fingertips tracing over the scar above his hip. "When you didn't come back that day, I was so worried. So scared my last words to you were something cruel and hurtful."

He hummed and said, "Oh darlin', I'm so sorry," then kissed the top of your head.

"Don't be. In a way, it helped me realize how much I care about you," you replied, lifting your chin from his chest to glance up at him. He always looked way too handsome in the morning. It was hardly fair. "Made me realize I couldn't live without you."

He grinned and rolled his shoulder, stretching out his sore muscles. "Well, if that's all it took, why didn't you say somethin' sooner?"

You giggled and looked back down at his scar, the smile slowly slipping from your face the longer you looked at the pale jagged edges marring his bronzed skin. "God, that day you didn't come back, though," you continued, your brow furrowed as you thought, "I had the worst pit in my stomach. Almost like I knew something was wrong, you know?"

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting you talk, completely at ease listening to your voice.

"It probably didn't help I had woken up that morning from the worst fucking nightmare."

"What nightmare?" he asked sleepily.

You chuckled when you thought about it.

"It's not really funny," you explained, rolling off of him and onto your back, pulling his flannel closed as you moved. "It had started out just like this, actually. It was morning, we were in bed and we were talking... about death?" you said the last part as if it were a question. "I was asking you if you believed in heaven and I told you I was afraid we were going to hell." His eyes snapped open and he quickly rolled his head to look at you, waiting for you to continue. You laughed again and shrugged. "I guess it felt like a premonition or something. Really freaked me out, it felt so real."

"What else?" he asked excitedly, sitting up. You looked up at him and cocked your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"What else do you remember? From the nightmare?"

"Oh," you said, pushing yourself up so you were also sitting. You stared at the wall blankly as you thought about it. "You told me we aren't bad people, and even though I told you we had done bad things, I believed you. Then..." you felt your cheeks flush and he sat forward eagerly.

"Then what?" he urged, and when you looked at him again, any trace of playfulness was gone.

"Then... it got a little dirty but I woke up before anything happened. But I do remember you were on top of me and you said-"

"This is heaven right here?" he finished for you, and you looked at him in surprise.

"Yes! How did-"

"That was no nightmare, honey. That happened," he told you, his voice rising. He thought his heart was going to explode, it was racing so fast.

"What?" you whispered, but Joel was already jumping out of bed and tugging on his boxers.

"C'mon, get up! We gotta take you to see Nick!"

"Wait," you said, buttoning up his flannel as he flew around the room, grabbing new clothes for you both. "Joel, this was a month ago, what will going to see Nick do?"

"I-I-I don't know! But we gotta tell him. Maybe there's somethin' we can do if we know you're capable of -"

"Joel, sit down," you said, cutting him off. He froze, having just tugged on a shirt but his jeans were still left unzipped and unbuttoned. You stared at him until he took the few steps towards the bed and sat down on the edge. "I'll talk to Nick next time I'm at work, but I don't want to barge in there and take up his time. You know this is out of his area of expertise."

He looked disappointed but he knew you were right because he finally nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his cheek while he stared at the floor. You put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, drawing his attention back onto you.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," you said softly. "If my memories come back, then they come back. If they don't, they don't. All that matters is this... right?" you asked, inching closer to him and resting a hand on his thigh. He smiled and enveloped your hand in his.

"Yeah, you're right," he said, staring down at your conjoined hands for a moment. "You wanna go get some breakfast? Maybe talk 'bout it a bit more?"

"Sure," you replied, then leaned forward, kissing him tenderly before standing up. "I should probably shower, though. Last night got a little messy," you said, tossing him a wink over your shoulder. He smirked and watched your ass sway back and forth in his fucking clothes as you made your way to the bathroom. You turned around in the doorway, one hand on the knob, the other braced against the frame as you looked at him expectantly from across the room. "Aren't you coming?"

All the blood rushed directly between his legs and just like that, his excitement for you recalling a memory was replaced by a very different kind of excitement.

"Hell, yes," he said, standing up and shucking off his shirt as he followed you into the bathroom. He grabbed your face with both hands and crashed his mouth against yours, kicking the door shut behind him.

Three Months Later

"Can't believe I'm the one teachin' you how to shoot," Joel muttered in disbelief as you walked back from the line of trees where he had hammered a paper target into one of the trunks. "You were always a better shot than me. Almost better than Tommy, and he was in the goddamn Army."

You laughed and shook your head, still finding it difficult to believe that you ever shot a gun before. From what you remember, you were always afraid of guns growing up.

"Maybe I'm a natural, then."

Enough time had passed and the weather had gotten warm enough where you decided it would be beneficial to re-learn how to shoot. You didn't plan on going back to patrol, but in the world you lived in, it was an important skill to have.

You sat down next to Joel on the fallen tree trunk in the middle of a small field about two miles away from Jackson. He picked up each one of his guns and inspected them, making sure they were clean so there wouldn't be much kickback.

"Have any dreams lately?"

You sighed and shook your head. "Just the one about Ellie, and that was over a month ago."

When you woke up one morning from a dream that felt all too real, you shook Joel awake to tell him about it. It was a simple dream, but it felt intense. You had dreamed Ellie sat you and Joel down at the kitchen table, and full of nerves, explained that she was seeing someone. Someone she cared about deeply. You seemed to catch on quicker than Joel because the conversation lead to where Ellie had to point blank explain to him that she was dating another girl. He seemed surprised but not overly shocked, and when he shrugged it off and still maintained that his only concern was her partner treating her right, her face broke out into a huge smile.

After he confirmed it was a memory, you agreed to see Nick. He didn't end up having much insight on what spurred your sudden recollection that day, just as you expected. But much to your surprise, Joel was perfectly calm. In fact, he made a point of thanking Nick and you even saw him smile at the other man.

And it wasn't just Nick you noticed his demeanor changing toward, either. When kids playing in the street bumped into him, he laughed and waved them off. When Jesse proposed to his girlfriend, Joel was one of the first in line to give him a hearty handshake and wished them well.

You weren't sure if his behavior changed because you were so revolted by it in the beginning, or if he was just happier in general, but you didn't complain.

"Alright, so which one d'you think we're gonna use from this distance?" he asked after he showed you his revolver and then his rifle, explaining the difference between each: how they handled, when to use them, when not to use them, and then finally, how to load and unload them.

You gave him a blank look. "The rifle, Joel. I'm not a complete idiot. I've seen movies."

He grinned and holstered his revolver.

"Good girl. Beauty and brains," he said, and you rolled your eyes.

"Don't start."

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't start flirting with me. You'll distract me and I want to take this seriously."

"I ain't flirtin' with you."

"Yes, you are!"

He laughed heartily at your frustrated little pout. "Can you blame me? You're so goddamn cute."

"Joel..." you whined, and he held up both hands in defeat before picking up the rifle.

"Alright, alright. Lemme shoot off a few rounds and you watch my form, okay? Watch my shoulders and where my hands go."

"Okay."

You observed him as he took aim at the target, nearly hitting the bullseye but not quite.

"You wanna give it a shot?"

"Pun intended?"

He grinned and held out the rifle, so you grabbed it and sunk down to one knee, resting your elbows on the tree trunk as you tried to imitate his posture.

"Like this?"

"Mhm," he said, "now take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger nice 'n slow."

Doing as you were told, you inhaled and blinked a few times, making sure your vision was clear and your eye was on the prize. Pursing your lips, you slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger - only to miss hitting the target entirely.

"Shit," you grumbled, sitting back on your heels.

"You got spooked by the kickback," Joel said, "try again, but this time try not to flinch."

You shouldered the rifle and took aim, once again taking a deep breath and focusing on the little yellow circle in the middle of the target. When you fired off your second round, doing your best not to flinch, you clipped the edge of the paper, but you were no where near the center.

"Goddamnit!" you yelled angrily. Joel chuckled and crouched behind you.

"Here. Lemme help you."

He wrapped his arms around yours and pressed his chest against your back, his hands coming to rest on top of yours as he made some minuscule adjustments to your posture.

"Y'gotta be gentle, see?" he whispered in your ear. Your eyelids fluttered but you managed to nod. "Gotta be patient. Don't let her scare you. Think of her as an extension of you. Like another arm."

"Her?" you teased.

He chuckled, his breath puffing against the back of your neck. "Yeah. Her. I'm respectful and careful with all my girls."

"All?" you repeated, leaning into him a bit. "How many are there?"

"Oh, tons," he said, making you giggle. "But if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite."

"A favorite over a bunch of guns? I'm so flattered."

"Hey, now. Didn't you just say you wanted to take this seriously? C'mon, focus up," and you knew he was right so you straightened up and pressed your eye against the scope once again.

Joel stayed behind you, his hands on your shoulders to help stabilize your upper body as you squeezed off shot after shot. His advice helped a little, you were at least hitting the paper, but you weren't getting anywhere near his shots from earlier. He could see you were growing frustrated so when you ran out of bullets, he took the rifle and told you to take a break while he reloaded.

"It's okay, darlin'. It's gonna take a bit to get used to it."

You sighed and slumped forward on the tree trunk. "Yeah, I guess," you mumbled.

For the next twenty minutes, Joel coached you while you struggled to remember all his advice at once. Keep your shoulders loose. Don't flinch. Follow through. Breathe. When you pulled the last round into the chamber and took aim, you expected it to go like all the others so you stopped worrying about it and just pulled the trigger.

"Holy shit, you did it!" Joel exclaimed excitedly. You hadn't even bothered to look, so you quickly brought the scope back up to your face. When you saw the small little circle burning a hole through the paper, nearly dead center, you squealed and quickly placed the rifle against the tree so you could jump into Joel's arms. He wrapped his arms around your ribs and spun you around while you giggled into his neck.

"Told you," he said with a wide grin after he put you back down. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him into you, crashing your lips together, taking him by surprise. He stumbled forward but wrapped a hand around the back of your neck just as you lost your own footing and fell onto the grass, dragging him down with you.

You laughed against his mouth, still peppering kisses all over his face. He braced both arms on either side of you, elbows digging into the warm grass, smile permanently stretching across his cheeks as he soaked up your affection.

When your laughter died down, you pulled away to gaze up at him, your fingers playing with the dark curls at the base of his neck. The sun was shining over the field and onto his tanned skin, making his sparkling brown eyes look like the color of gold. It took your breath away.

"You're so handsome," you whispered in awe, your fingers leaving his hair in favor of stroking the graying stubble dusting his cheeks. He blushed and shook his head, but before he could protest, you spoke again. "I love you so much, Joel. Sometimes it makes me sad to think we probably wouldn't have ever known each other if the world didn't end."

His eyes softened and he gave you a small smile, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "I'll always find you. In every life, in every universe. You've got a piece of me," he tapped your chest lightly, "I don't make the rules."

You laughed and laced your fingers together with his. "Like fate?"

He shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. I already told you, sweetheart. We're meant to be together."

You pulled him down for another kiss, this one more gentle. More loving. More intimate. For the hundredth time, you mentally berated yourself for wasting so much time after your accident when you could have been with him like this, being loved and adored and cherished all along. Instead, you both had been searching endlessly for some version of yourself that you weren't sure you would ever find again. But then you realized if you never did, that was okay. Because you got to fall in love with each other all over again, and how many people get to say that?

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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lokisgoodgirl · 7 days

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Distractions [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: You suck Loki's fingers during movie night with entirely predictable results. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Avenger!Loki x Female Reader. Finger-sucking. Smut. Chino-besmirchment. Language. 'SEVEN' movie references. (w/c 1.6k)

You flinch as Brad Pitt recoils from the body on the bed in disgust. Scott hollers in the corner, sending popcorn and assorted snacks nestled between he and Sam flying. “Wooooah-” Scott cries. Sam's face is aghast as he tries and fails to scramble the chocolates. “Dude, what...these are new chinos. Pale stone, man. Pale...stone.” Scott’s hands crest at his nose. “Did you see that guy on the bed? Ho-boy, that’s gross. So gross. Rewind it.”

“Fan-tastic,” Sam says dryly, yanking the depleted bowl to his side. He clutches it in one hand, searching for stray chocolate buttons concealed beneath his thighs with the other. Tony snaps the leg panel of his recliner down, bracing at the sides. “Zip it or you’re barred. I have managerial rights.” “C’mon man, you saw what he did to my snacks - to my chinos.” Tony raises a silencing finger to Sam, moving it slowly to Scott. They both shrink into the sofa. "You know you're out of line when the lovebirds are better behaved that you are - and one of them is Loki." Loki’s mouth moves to your ear in the midst of the bickering, his breath making your scalp tingle. “It still amuses me that these picture reels affect you so. So easily unnerved.” “I’m not affected,” you mumble against his t-shirt. Loki’s low chuckle jostles your head. You prop your chin on his chest, staring up at the taut underside of his jaw. His eyes are bright and reflecting the screen stretched across the wall of the common room. “Yes you are,” he whispers in a frequency it feels like only you can hear. “It would be unreasonable for you to be as stoic as a god, darling. Very difficult to affect us to the same extent, you see.” “Is that right?” “Mmm,” Loki hums as he focuses on Morgan Freeman doing something clever. “My concentration is impeccable. Always has been.” You snort against his t-shirt. Minutes pass and peace is restored to the Stark cinema. You reach for Loki’s hand, intertwining the fingers. He gives it a squeeze, kissing the top of your head with his eyes trained on the screen. “Quiet,” Tony snips. A puff of air escapes against your hair. Loki squeezes your hand again and you press a kiss into his stomach, sucking the cotton between your teeth. The hard heat of his muscle clenches as your teeth graze the curve of a pectoral, blowing a blast of heat through the fabric. A strained exhale escapes Loki’s nostrils. “Careful, darling,” he murmurs. Silently, you shift the back of his hand to your lips. It's huge. Your dainty fingers get lost in the flickering shadows from the screen beneath the perfect pale of his long digits. His abdomen tightens against your cheek; hips shifting beneath you. After pausing a few moments...just to make him sweat, you press your lips against his skin. The unlikely pair on-screen move and talk, but you’re not really listening. It’s Loki’s gentle breaths you’re listening to, the ones drawn with such utmost precision that they’re anything but natural. Your lips move along the back of his hand, kissing the way you used to practice when you were a kid. “Mmgh,” he groans quietly, widening his thighs. Without looking you can tell Tony is glaring. “Apologies,” Loki says. “Cramp.”

Your tongue covertly traces the line of Loki’s finger from his second knuckle to the tip, catching it between your lips. A violent shudder wrenches his thighs and his effort to remain casual is astonishingly evident in the tighten of every muscle touching your body. His finger balances on the flat of your tongue and Loki’s holds his breath. After a pause, you slide it to the back of your tongue, fastening your lips to the base of his finger. “Norns,” he breaths, clearing his throat. It times perfectly with a jump-scare on screen. His free hand is curled to the arm-rest, perfectly manicured nails turning white as he digs them into the upholstery. You began to suck.

A growl rumbles his chest and the desperation to seem un-phased makes heat pool in your belly. You shift your hips, wetness sliding in your underwear. Loki’s cock is hardening furiously against his thigh, the drape of your hand, swelling against the tight jeans he insists on wearing. Sucking firmly, you drag your mouth down his finger, lingering on the tip and swirling your tongue. When you do that to his cock, just right, he cums down your throat with a whimpering stutter of your name. “I can’t do this anymore,” Loki mutters. Suddenly the world is upended and you’re tossed against the cushions on the opposite side of the sofa. Loki’s on his feet, one hand on his hips and the other pointed at the screen. It glistens with your saliva. Tony slams the feet of his recliner down. “Laufeyson for Christssakes will you pee before the movie? How many times.” “This man is an insufferable buffoon,” Loki says as he gestures at Morgan Freeman. “It’s clear the villain they seek is among them: the man with the vaguely attractive face who’s eating constantly.” Scott covers his ears while Sam leans forward. “Yo, man...spoilers,” he warns, raising an eyebrow. Loki lowers his head, shaking it with a smirk. Dark curls fall around his face and the pulse in his neck races in the half-light. “Fools. Come, darling. We shan’t waste your depleting lifespan on this nonsense.” Loki grabs your hand and yanks you from the sofa, bustling towards the door. “Keep moving,” he orders while a frantic hand runs over your ass and squeezes hard. The door barely clicks shut before Loki descends like a storm; hands and lips and dark sighs smothering you against the wall. “You dare to tease me thus?” He pants between the words, wet lips parted and eyes heavy. “I didn’t think you’d be affected, you say as Loki’s eyes glint. “I thought your concentration was impeccable.” He steps between your legs and the flat of his thigh pressed up against your clit. You gasp. “Even a god can be undone by simulated oral pleasure on his extremities, darling." You bat your lashes, biting your lip. “I won’t tell Hydra, I promise.” Loki growls again as he trails his knuckles over your breasts; his black hair and t-shirt and jeans melting into the darkness of the unlit corridor. The hand snakes down your thigh, working under the loose hem of your skirt. “Loki,” you say, eyes darting to the cinema-room door at the other side of the corridor. “Shhh…” Loki buries himself in your neck, sucking against your pulse. There’s a girlish scream from inside the room as another body is discovered. Your fingers fumble with Loki’s jean buttons, a desperate sigh of relief clouding the air as his cock springs free. “You’re impossible,” he says as he pulls the gusset of your panties to the side. “You’re impossible.” “Well, yes,” he says with a conspiratorial smile before hoisting your legs around his waist and sinking you greedily onto his length. The tug of his cock squeezing inside you hits with new fire as his hand covers your mouth. The finger you sucked is still wet and you pant against his palm. His eyes are bottomless in the gloom; the slight tremble of his brows and the part of his lips as he fucks you against the wall making you melt against him. Every slow roll of his hips erupts a quiet moan between his fingers. His breathy pants time with your own as he gets off on your pleasure like he always does. Your fingers claw at the V of his t-shirt, bunching it in a fist with a mewl of his name. “Teasing a god rarely ends without mischief, love,” he murmurs in the dark. Loki’s skin is flawless in the weak light leaking beneath the door to the cinema room. “You’d do well to remember that as we continue this…” He thrusts with calculate precision. “Venture.” You moan against his hand, eyes screwing shut as the coil tightens deep inside you. He loosens the pressure of his palm, a finger nudging at your lips. “Go on,” he whispers through heavy exhales. “Suck it as I fuck you. Show me how filthy you are for me.”

You let it slide against your tongue, sucking the digit over the flat with every rise of his hips. Legs tightening around him, Loki bites his lip as he looks down at your head falling back against the wall with unbridled approval. “You like it,” he moans with a whiff of condescension. “Perhaps I can summon a duplicate of myself for you to pleasure while I take you another way; would you like that?” The thought has blood thumping in your ears and the twisting pressure tightening in your core reaches critical levels. You whine, sucking Loki’s finger frantically as his eyes glaze with lust and his teeth clench. “F-fuck,” he chokes, stiffening against you. His forehead presses to yours, a guttural sigh shaking from his chest. Breath mists against your lips and you can feel the swell of his hot cum leak from your slit as he shuffles, milking the last of his pleasure – and yours. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders as you cum with a strangled whimper, dragging against the cotton. Loki’s thrusts slow, his kisses working into the angle of your jaw and the thud of your pulse. “You were wrong,” you sigh as he lowers your feet to the floor. “Excuse me?” “About the killer. It’s not Brad Pitt.” Loki’s brow scrunches as trembling fingers pull at his zip. “How can that be?” You shrug mysteriously, buttoning his jeans with a pat of his softening bulge. “Shall we go back in?”

Loki’s eyes narrow and he curls a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “Alright. But no distractions.” “I promise,” you lie, and a wicked smile plays on Loki’s lips.

Tags in comments because Tumblr continues to be annoying❤️

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x yn #loki fanfic #loki oneshot #loki gifs #lokismut

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disneyprincemuke · 2 months

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mrs all american * archived.

who is that guy in the andretti racing garage?

pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: lOLSIE OXOXOXOOXOOXOXO tell me if u want their smau too?? hehehehe

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

alex tilts his head, approaching his friends gathered right behind a crowd that’s formed in front of one of the racing hospitalities in the paddocks. “what are we doing here?”

“same sentiments,” george mutters, craning his neck to try and look over heads to see what’s all the commotion about. him and lando had been having a chat while walking in from lunch when they were greeted by a large crowd gathered and chatter filling up the air. “we’re just as curious as you.”

“but you lot were here first?” alex asks, scrunching his nose again, looking between his friends. “did andretti manage to score some big name or something for the weekend?”

“brad pitt, you reckon?” lando asks, raising his eyebrows. “nah, i don’t think so. has to be someone else.”

“maybe it’s just rocky causing terror to everyone again.”

george and lando exchange a stare and ultimately shrug with a nod. it’s not entirely impossible that it’s not the brand’s own driver who’s gathered a big crowd to watch her do something stupid.

“hey, why are there so many damn people? i just wanna take a nap before the parade.” the 3 turn around, shocked at the presence that’s announced itself behind them. the andretti racing driver stands in front of them, hands on the straps of her backpack as she looks at them curiously. they furrow their eyebrows. “what?”

“you’re not the one that’s causing all the commotion?” george tilts his head, pointing at the crowd of cameras and paparazzi behind them.

she shrugs. “i guess not. what’s going on?”

alex sighs, widening his eyes. “we have got no idea. we’re just nosey,” he takes a sip from his drink, “will you tell us when you find out later?”

she shrugs nonchalantly with a small smile. “sure. i’ll see you lads later for the parade.”

“are you hiding someone from me?” the girl, who’s just walked into the pitlane to head to the grid for the driver’s parade takes a step back with a clueless blink. “max keeps pestering me about the guest for tonight.”

she shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “why do you just assume i always know more than you?”

liam shrugs as well, frowning. “i don’t know. there’s just so much commotion on our side of the paddocks today and i’ve got no clue as to why,” liam says with a frown.

realistically, she feels bad lying straight through her teeth to everyone. but she doesn’t need anyone messing with her when the truth happens to come out before the race starts. it’s just not something she thinks she needs.

besides, everybody will find out after the race. she will just explain herself then.

“i’ve got no idea what’s going on with our garage today,” she takes a sip from her pepsi, blinking at liam innocently. “guess we’ll find out later?”

“find what out?” oscar tilts his head as they come to a stop right by him and lando, waiting for the truck to start their lap around the track.

“why we’ve been so crowded with paps today,” liam frowns. “i’m not the centre of attention and it’s simply absurd.”

lando sighs, shaking his head. “i know. i’ve barely seen a camera pointed my way today and it’s our grand prix race. something is not right.”

she shrugs with a small grin. “someone kinda famous, i guess.”

“it’s not jacob elordi again, is it?” carlos pokes his head between lando’s and hers, furrowing his eyebrows. he turns to her, met with an unamused stare and head tilt. he shrugs. “just curious. who knows if you’re seeing him again?”

she looks around their huddle, suddenly greeted by curious stares and raised eyebrows. she throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “i’m not seeing jacob again! i haven’t seen him since the miami race last year! please let it go!”

alex narrows his eyes down with a small smirk. “you sound like you know something about andretti’s special guest.”

“you liar!” liam screams.

“i don’t!” she turns to liam with her arms in the air. she turns to alex and scowls. “why are you stirring drama? i don’t know anything about who andretti’s decided to give their stupid pass to this weekend, okay?”

alex hums, pressing his lips together. “that’s not what logan told me.”

“why would logan know anything about andretti’s guest this weekend? i’ve barely seen him.”

he shrugs, “i really thought that would break you.”

“nice try,” oscar sighs, shaking his head. “you really don’t know anything?”

she shakes her head. “i really don’t. now can we please talk about something else?”

“i’ll see you later after the race?” a soft, familiar, higher-pitched voice says. “don’t forget to watch me, okay? remember: i’m in the andretti car. don’t watch the red bulls or the ferraris, just me. you’re here for me.”

liam presses his ear against the door as if he could somehow make out who’s speaking to whom inside the room.

you can only imagine his shock when he hears a man’s voice from the other side of the door. “suddenly i’m an andretti supporter. i don’t even like ferrari.”

he hears her laugh, followed by footsteps approaching the door. “i’ll see you later, my. love you.”

the door clicks, prompting liam to hurl himself towards the stairs leading downstairs, stumbling and sliding down a couple of steps. liam pulls himself up with the railing, trying to ignore the way he can hear the confusion as the door closes.

“what are you doing?”

liam hops up to his feet, one of his foot sliding off at the edge of the steps. he coughs to cover it up and shakes his head. “i’m just super excited to be racing in vegas.”

she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you sure? is something wrong?”

he shakes his head. “nope. nothing.”

perhaps she will break the news to him after the race? he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say that phrase to anyone, much less know anyone called ‘my’.

“you don’t have anything to ask me?” she bites down on her lip, trying to keep the laugh in.

truthfully, she had heard the door rattle a couple of times and assumed that liam was being nosey outside her driver’s room. she’s more surprised that her teammate is not probing her for a more defined answer other than a shrug.

“i guess,” liam shrugs dejectedly.

he just wants her to tell him instead of having to ask her outright.

“alright, mate,” she laughs, furrowing her eyebrows. “by the way, you’re coming for ice cream tonight, right? i’ve got someone i want you to meet.”

another podium finish. it’s absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’s got a special guest in her garage watching, the car was just good.

she knows that because liam’s finished directly behind her. she would have given him the podium if sebastian hadn’t insisted that there’s jo driver swap necessary and that it would only be riskier to do so.

she climbs out of the car, eyes crinkled towards the team gathered behind the barriers for her. she tears all of her headgear off and immediately runs forward to where her team is gathered.

“amazing!” sebastian screams, arms wide open as she approaches them. “good job, kid!”

she screeches, hopping over to where they are with her fists in the air. “i know! i literally love vegas! year after year, all vegas gives me is bangers!”

she jumps into sebastian’s arms, cheering along with her team of mechanics with their arms wrapped around her as well. “yay! another podium for me! suck it, oscar!”

“oscar catching strays,” liam mutters, tapping her on the shoulder and holding his arms out to her. throwing his arms around her, he sighs exasperatedly while a smile. “i know you had someone in your room earlier.”

“i know. you rattled the door with all your moving,” she whispers back before pulling away. she drops her head slightly as a blush slowly creeps up her cheeks. “i’m seeing somebody.”

“i also know that,” liam grins, a hand still on the small of her back. “do i get to meet him?”

“obviously. do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him out of your sight all day?” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “i promise you’ll get to meet him.”

“if i didn’t know you were a good driver, i’d have thought you made it to the podium just to impress me.”

“it’s just luck, i guess.” she grins giddily leaning in as he holds both hands up, grabbing her cheeks. “thanks for coming to watch my race.”

“absolutely. thank you so much for inviting me over.”

she scrunches her nose, hands lifted slightly behind her as she leans in with puckered lips. she’s turning 22 in a couple of weeks and the fact that this is her first public relationship ever is still new to her.

truthfully, she wasn’t even planning on dating any time soon. she’s gone 5 years — almost her entire life — not finding herself with a boyfriend, what harm would it do if she went on longer without one?

but she coincidentally found herself laughing a little too hard at his jokes and now here she is, lip locked in her garage with some guy she swore annoyed her.

“ew!”

“fuck off!” she says immediately, pulling away and whirling around with red cheeks. her hair is dishevelled, stray hairs on her face and cheeks getting redder by the second. “what are you, 12?”

max raises his eyebrows with an amused smile stretching his lips. he tilts his head to the side and ignores the driver in front of him. “who’s this? i’m max,” he holds his arm out, “i can fight.”

“max!” she shrieks, pushing max’s arm away before it can be grabbed cordially. “what is wrong with you? that’s not how you introduce yourself!”

but as she’s preoccupied with max, to her horror, she’s turned back around and the other 3 have already surrounded the poor boy with furrowed eyebrows and questions spilling on their lips.

who are you, where do you live, what’s your intentions with rocky, how long have you known her? and this is exactly why she hesitated even bringing him to the race to watch her.

“hey, what are you doing? stop doing that!” she cries, running back around to try and shoo off alex, george and lando who have well invaded her boyfriend’s personal space. before she can take 3 steps away, max grabs her shoulder and yanks her back toward him to hold her in place. “you guys are embarrassing me! you’re worse than my siblings!”

“oh, you’ve met her siblings!” alex cheers for a moment before wiping the smile from his face. “so? what are they gonna do to protect you? they’re so much younger.”

“hey! those are my sisters and brother you’re talking about!”

“ah, you get what i mean,” alex waves her off, snorting softly. he returns his attention to the boy with a small amused grin. “so? you plan on answering our questions, mate? we’ll be here all night if you don’t.”

the brunette grins. “i’m milo manheim, i’m an actor. i’m,” a blush creeps up his cheek as he bites back a smile and points over at the girl still in her race suit, “she’s my girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” lando screams incredulously, throwing his head back in disbelief. he turns to the girl and points at milo. “you found yourself a boyfriend? did you use our advice?”

she stares at them, blinking with a toothy and fearful grin. “why… would i use your shit advice?”

“hey, what are you– oh, hey! you look–” oscar cuts himself off with a loud laugh before turning to his best friend, “oh, you little sneaky shit! no wonder you’ve been keeping your mouth shut the entire evening! it’s the guy you h–“

“guys!” she throws her arms in the air. “give me a break, please! at least let me sp–”

“how long have you guys been dating?”

“dating?” oscar asks loudly, blinking rapidly. all this is new to him. she’s always been pretty secretive and private about her dating life, so it’s not a shock that everything is only unveiling now for her.

“have you made her cry yet? every tear is one punch i get to throw without you running off to the media crying about it, kid,” max says firmly, shoving her aside so that he could take a step forward towards milo.

“max! he has not–”

the younger boy grins and puffs his chest proudly. “of course not! we’ve been going out for a couple of months, around 5 or 6?”

“wow!” george cheers, turning to her in amusement. “that’s long! you kept a secret that long?”

she shrugs. “lily knew.”

“lily knew?” oscar screams, arm darting out to punch her shoulder. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“because then you’d tell logan and lando, and then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,” she explains, throwing her arms in the air with a knowing stare. “i don’t see the problem, really. mick knew too.”

“mick found out before me?” george shouts. “unfair!”

she shrugs again. “he saw us at the hotel lobby last night.”

“why are there so many people in my garage?” sebastian walks in, tapping his phone against his palm. “hi, milo.” he looks at the crowd of excess drivers in his garage and lifts his hands in the air to continue his interrogation. “anyone plan on answering me?”

“we’re having a meeting,” lando answers, not even sparing the older man a glance. he keeps his stare on milo. “so how did you meet?”

“we met at the eras tour in the private tent!” oscar cuts in with an amused stare. he blinks. “i gotta find logan and tell him.”

“tell me what?”

she throws her arms in the air. “did you guys agree to come to my garage after my podium just to piss me off or something?” she shouts, hands balled into fists and she stomps a foot into the ground. “what is everyone doing here? why are we having a gathering?”

“i was gonna congratulate you on the podium,” logan mutters. he trails off as he meets the familiar pair of brown eyes, the only person in their makeshift circle not in a race suit, and tilts his head. “what are you doing here? don’t i know you from somewhere?”

a silence falls in the garage, the chatter from outside the only thing that anyone can hear. max and alex share a look, then glances over at george who lifts his eyebrows with a shrug.

milo blinks. “i’m–“

“rocky’s boyfriend!” lando cheers, holding milo’s shoulder and pointing excitedly at the young boy next to him. “you didn’t know?”

“nobody knew,” she grins, explaining through gritted teeth. “except seb. cause he’s the one that let this happen.”

“rat!” max screams, whirling around to sebastian. “you said you knew nothing about who andretti’s guest is!”

“i was sworn to secrecy if not i might wake up bald tomorrow!” sebastian suddenly screams in defensive. “i don’t wanna be bald! don’t you think i haven’t thought of telling anyone?”

logan grins, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “i didn’t know you guys were talking.”

logan scratches his elbow as he turns to oscar, tilting his head and pointing between her and milo as if to ask if he’d known about it. in return, oscar shrugs.

“wait,” max shakes his head. “this is actually a thing? you guys are actually boyfriend and girlfriend? like it’s official?”

her and milo share a look. she turns to max and nods. “yeah?”

“you hesitated,” george points out. “why did you hesitate?”

heads turn to one of the men in papaya, a giggle bubbling from his stomach as he points between them. “i see what’s going on — you haven’t talked about it, have you?”

“what?” she sputters, rolling her eyes. “that is absolutely none of your business.”

oscar giggles. “but we’re right, aren’t we?”

george throws his hands in the air. “guys, leave them alone. this is seriously none of our business.”

“but i wanna know!” max whines, stomping towards milo. “how did you guys meet?”

“eras tour,” milo grins widely. “then she went home and stalked me — liked my picture from like 2021.”

“no, i didn’t!” she shrieks, hands coming up to shield her flushed cheeks away from everyone in the room. she runs over to milo and starts to push him towards the doors that lead to the paddocks. “don’t tell people i did that!”

“oh, that’s so embarrassing!” oscar tugs at his hair then hunches over as he no longer can contain his laughter. “rocky, no!”

she scratches her head and darts back towards oscar. “oscar!”

“she didn’t like me very much at first,” milo points out, grinning at her.

“oh, we know,” logan grins, folding his arms over his chest. he glances at the girl cowered next to sebastian, forehead resting on her race engineer’s arm with her hands still cupped over her cheeks then looks at everybody else. “she told us how annoying you were for like 20 minutes after the concert.”

she sighs and just drops herself into squat. “yeah, whatever.”

“mate!” liam grins, pushing the door open of their hospitality home. “i’m liam! it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

he says that as if he hadn’t just found out of his existence literally 2 hours ago.

“aw, absolutely, man,” milo grins, taking the hand that offered to him. “she talks about you all the time.”

“yeah, how fucking irritating he is,” she scoffs, throwing her head back. she steps forward and breaks their hands apart from one another, quickly wrapping her hand around milo’s arm. “let’s go for drinks!”

“really? drinking in vegas?” liam snorts, raising his eyebrow at her. “shouldn’t you have learned your lesson by now?”

“what lesson?” mick hums, appearing behind them. “drinks, right? celebrate rocky’s podium or something?”

“your lesson? what did you do in vegas that’s naughty?” milo teases, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at her. “you did something stupid, didn’t you?”

she blinks. “yeah, i almost got married in vegas this time last year.”

“married?” milo repeats with a laugh. “to whom? and what do you mean almost? it didn’t happen?”

mick sighs. “we were bested by sebastian — a lesson about drinking too much or something like that. we still engage in black out drinking though.”

the girl cheers with a soft laugh, holding a hand up and immediately receives a high-5 from the older driver.

milo laughs, wrapping an arm around her. “that’s actually kinda funny.” he looks at mick, already well acquainted from their impromptu supper in their hotel room the night before. “she is my girlfriend now though, so…”

liam scowls, looking between the 3 of them. “you guys just made it super weird.”

— bonus

“you seriously didn’t know?” oscar blinks, starting to walk away from the williams racing home alongside his friend and girlfriend, towards the exit of the paddocks to meet their friends. “you guys have been acting so weird lately.”

logan shrugs. “i bet ylona knew. they’ve been hanging out a lot lately.”

lily grins, peeking from oscar’s side to look at logan. “she does. rocky told us she was seeing somebody after they first kissed that one time in new york 2 months ago.”

“2 months ago,” logan puffs his cheeks out and shakes his head, “wow. good for her, honestly.”

“yeah,” oscar hums, “you’d think that she’d actually end up that crazy cat lady if she never finds a decent man.”

lily laughs, squeezing oscar’s arm. “we’ve hung out with him a cou–“

“you what?” oscar scowls, taking a step away from her. “what’s with all the secrecy? are you even my girlfriend anymore?”

“you say ‘we’,” logan huffs. “you’re telling me you guys reeled ylona in without either of us knowing?” lily nods. “assholes!”

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

this is a relationship, that i don’t think anyone saw coming – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and Charles think you are successfully fooling everyone on the grid, when in reality you are the ones being fooled.

Pairing: charles leclerc x merc!driver!reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: cursing, kissing, hiding a relationship (and doing it very badly), smut elements! (in one of the scenes, nothing penetrative), idiots to lovers, sexism and racism in motorsports, pop culture references (bad and many of them).

Request: “Hello! Can I request a charles leclerc imagine where the reader is a f1 driver and they try to hide their relationship from the paddock, but everyone knows and in the end they just reveal it. Thanks xx” + “this is not a request, but, can you use a dialogue from one of your favourite tv shows/series?”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! the title comes from an episode of the kardashians, but it was very popular on tiktok for a while so here you go! the request for this one was so good, and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i do. the dialogue i used for the second request/promt is from season 1 episode 9 of suits, which is one of my absolute favourite tv series of all time (even though it has too many legal inaccuracies), and you can watch the scene from here. ALSO, because i can never choose one, i decided to use another dialogue from season 1 episode 18 of gilmore girls, and i think it is the best piece of television ever written, and you can watch it from here. there are a bunch of pop culture references in there, so if you can spot them, you are a star! thank you anons for your requests, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Charles is not stupid, in fact, he prides himself in being smart. However, as one of his best friends are looking at him with an unamused glare, he suddenly fears that he might have been stupid when he was getting ready before arriving at the venue for the party tonight.

“You are not dressed,” Pierre drawls, “What are you wearing?”

“A suit?” Charles asks, confused as he looks at his friend’s attire. “What are you wearing?”

Pierre points to the outfit he’s wearing, which consists of brown pants with a linen shirt and a brown vest thrown over it, an annoyed look washes over his face as he explains, “I’m Indiana Jones, this is a costume party, Charles.”

“Why would you have a costume party when you’re turning 27?” Charles’ face scrunches up in even more confusion.

“Because it’s fun, and it’s my birthday.” Pierre rolls his eyes, “We have to do something about it; Kika, I need help!” He calls out to her girlfriend, who rushes into the room in a white dress and a very voluminous blonde wig.

“What’s wrong?” Kika asks, her eyes falling on Charles’ outfits as she groans disappointedly, “Who are you supposed to be?”

“I didn’t know!” Charles argues.

“Mate,” Pierre objects, “it was on the invitation; ‘Hollywood Icons’?”

“We can fix this,” Kika tries to offer Charles a supportive smile. “You could be… Patrick Bateman?”

Charles’ eyes widen with shock, “From ‘American Psycho’?”

“Morbid, Kiks,” Pierre shakes his head.

Kika shrugs, “He’s hot. What about Brad Pitt in ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith’?”

“Does he even wear a suit in that one?” Pierre asks, still shaking his head in thought.

Kika lets out a loud groan, “James Bond!”

“That could work–” Charles start saying at the same time Pierre objects, “The suit is not sharp enough.”

“Then give him a tie, Pierre.” Kika frowns. “God, the two of you are like children, not even the girls had this much trouble, and the two of us almost matched.”

You’re shivering when you finally arrive at the venue thanks to the thin trench coat thrown over your costume. You link your arm with Lily, who is holding Alex’s hand and the two of them are dressed up as Jack and Rose. “Why are we doing this, again?”

“Because we like Pierre, he is nice.” Lily turns to Alex to let him fix her ginger wig for her as she replies to you.

“I don’t know, I think I want to go back to the hotel.” You mumble, your hands nervously playing with the belt of your coat.

“Just give it a try, Y/N,” Alex smiles at you. “We’ll take you back if you’re still feeling nervous.”

You nod your head with a sigh as you let Lily pull you in towards the entrance of the apartment building. You’re too busy admiring the Italian architecture when you hear a squeal. “You guys made it!” Alex excuses himself to go greet some of the other drivers and you smile at Kika as she pulls you and Lily in for a hug at the same time as she chants, “I’m dying to see your guys’ costumes, show me, show me!”

You laugh softly as you take of your coat, pulling gasps from both of the girls looking over your outfit. “You both knew what my costume was going to be!” You whine, holding your coat close to your body.

“I didn’t know it was going to be –” Lily starts, looking at Kika for help.

“Tight,” Kika clears her throat, “it’s very tight, and your body looks amazing!”

“You’re literally a model, Kiks,” you mumble, “can we please focus on Lily and how historically accurate her costume is? Not to mention yours, I mean, Marilyn?”

“You look amazing, Lily.” Kika agrees, giving her a warm smile. “And thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Kika,” she turns to you, “thank you, Y/N. I’m going to find Alex, meet you at the bar?”

“Sure, see you.” You tell her, smiling as she starts to walk towards the crowd.

“Let me take your coat,” Kika leans over you. “You should grab a drink before more people arrive, Pierre made sure to invite half of the city, it seems like.”

You thank her before she leaves to hang your coat, taking a deep breath as you start moving between dancing people, some of whom greet you as you make your way towards the bar. You give the bar tender a tight smile as you order yourself a gin and tonic, strawberry, of course. The first thing Charles notices about you is your hair, having memorised all the different tones mixed between your locks. His eyes travels down your body, his eyes linger particularly on your dress; the white bodice is connected to the tie dye skirt by a metal circle, and it is oh so tight, accentuating all your curves in the best way possible. His legs start to move towards you in their own volition when his eyes reach the leather thigh-high boots, his voice is thick as he approach you from your right. “Y/N.”

You look at him with your lips parted in shock, your voice coming out in a low breath. “Charles, you’re here.” You let him take one of your hands into his as you lock eyes with him. “I thought you were going to be in Monaco.”

“I was already in Italy for the car testing.” He explains, his fingers gently caress your inner wrist. “I’ve missed you. Were you back at home?”

“I’ve missed you too,” a smile takes over your face, “yes, I’m trying to get used to changing cities.”

“I’ll give you a private tour when we go back.” He offers, eliciting a giggle from you as you reach for your drink and take a sip from the straw. His breath hitches for a moment when he focuses too much on the way your red-painted lips close around the plastic, but he’s quick to shake it off. “Did you see the pictures on Twitter?”

“The ones with Frédéric?” You ask him and he nods in return. The pictures he is referring to being his new team principle giving your four-year-old niece some daisies. There is a teasing smile on your lips as you say, “Don’t worry, Charles, I’m not coming for a Ferrari seat. He was just giving Cecily some flowers when we were passing by.”

“I wish you would’ve brought her into the garage, I’ve missed her.” The pout he’s sporting lets you know that he is being genuine and not putting on a show for your attention.

“You know I couldn’t, I had to get back to my own garage before the race.” The emphasis you use makes him roll his eyes as his fingers occupy themselves with the stacked bracelets on your wrist. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“James Bond.” He replies in an unattached voice, exhaling a deep breath. “I didn’t realise it was a costume party.”

“Charles,” you laugh, head tilted to the side as you keep holding his gaze, “it was on the invitation, darling.”

He groans, “I know that, now. Pierre was not impressed when I first showed up.”

“I can imagine.” You agree in a sympathetic voice. “Maybe we should’ve thought of something before you left last week.”

“Oh, yeah, like what? Vivian?” He smirks, his eyes going over your body once more, but without any shame this time. “Do you have any idea how great you look?”

“It was the last movie we watched.” You shrug, a coy smile on your lips. “Maybe you could’ve been a ballerina, like Natalie Portman, in ‘Black Swan’.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “Oh please, you know how good my legs would look in tights compared to yours.”

“Oh, chéri,” You tut, stepping closer to him as you rake your fingers down on his tie. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

“I would crush you.” He challenges as he lifts an eyebrow.

You shake your head. “You wouldn’t touch me.”

“Why not?” He asks, amused.

You shrug in a nonchalant manner. “Because you'd be too busy staring at me in tights.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Charles argues, shaking his head slightly.

“You’re doing it right now.” You sing in a light voice.

“You’re not wearing any.” He points out, his hands moving to rest on the bare skin of your waist, curtesy of the cut-outs your dress provides.

You tug on his tie to draw him closer to you, his lips lingering near his ear as you whisper, “I’m not wearing any underwear.”

He is left speechless when you let him go, grab your drink and start walking towards your teammate, making sure to add an extra sway to your hips because you know Charles is watching you to confirm what you’ve just told him.

You have a secret, and it’s big – big, huge. And it has something to do with the Monegasque laying beneath you. Charles talks about the last few days he spent at the Ferrari factory as you listen to him, your eyes focused on the way his face moves through various expressions when he talks about the car. Your chin is placed on your hands which are placed together on his chest, giving you the perfect view of his face. His fingers are moving on the bare skin on your back, the white bed sheet pulled up only enough to cover the globe of your ass. Although you try your best to keep up with his stream of consciousness, humming where accurate and asking him questions here and there, but Charles can see the sleepy look in your eyes through your hooded eyes.

“Are you okay, mon soleil?” He asks, his chest rumbling with his voice underneath your hands.

“Sleepy,” you mumble, leaning up against him to bury your face against the side of his neck, “you’re warm, though.”

He pulls the sheet up your body; interpreting the way you shiver as you being cold, when the actual reason is the pleasure the skin to skin contact brings. “You can go back to sleep; we still have some time.” The incoherent mumbles leaving your lips makes him chuckle, which in return makes you smile against him. Your fingers trace over the edge of his five o’clock shadow, and you suddenly find yourself thanking whatever deity is up there that he forgot to shave because of all the commotion of travelling over the past few days. “What did you just say?”

“It’s just funny that you tell me I should sleep after you’ve kept me up the entire night, darling.” Your breathy chuckle hits the side of his neck as he lets out a chuckle of his own.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at any point,” he raises one of his brows, earning him a pat against his chest and you making yourself rise enough to glare at him.

You try your best to frown at him, locking your gaze with his, as you can feel the heat starting to rise up to your face at the mention of your not so innocent activities of last night. “You’re incorrigible, Charles.”

“Oh, chérie,” he coos, brushing the pad of his thumb over the swell of your cupids-bow. You’re about to give in and give him a kiss when he rises up, himself, with a frown and you in his arms.

“What’s wrong?” You ask in a worried voice, following his line of vision to your closed bedroom door.

“Does anyone else have your keys?” Charles asks, “I heard the front door open–”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to get off him, pulling the sheet up to cover your nakedness. “Charles, hide!” You hiss, while trying to force him to move.

“Y/N?” You hear your assistant, Margo, yell through the house. “I got those thermal things you wanted!”

“One second, please!” You call back to her, looking at Charles with pleading eyes. Thankfully, he manages to hide underneath the sheets just before Margo barges into the room. Even more luckily, the duvet over the sheets ends up hiding his body seamlessly. “Hi, Margo.” You give her the best smile you can muster up under the situation, your hand still clutching the bedsheet on your chest with enough force to make your hand hurt.

“Oh my god, are you naked under there?” Margo babbles, a light blush covering her cheeks. “Since when do you sleep naked?”

“Um… I heard it’s good for your circulation?” You answer her in an unsure voice, causing Charles to tighten his hands on your thighs in warning, you have no idea how he managed to squeeze between them in the first place. “Thank you for the thermals, you’re an angel.”

“N-no problem.” She smiles at you nervously, obviously stressed because of the lack of clothes on your body for the sake of professionalism. “Toto wanted me to tell you that he is meeting up with Lewis for lunch later and asked me to ask you to join them if you were free.”

“Sure, do you know wh-when?” You stutter during the last word, feeling Charles’ fingers and breath coming closer to your center.

Margo checks her watch, then looks back up at you. “Around three, at that Italian place the team went out for dinner the last time.”

You nod in acknowledgement as you try the remember the exact location of the restaurant she mentioned, gasping because Charles decides to give your clit a little lick before taking it between his lips to gently suck on it. “I’ll be there!” You rush out, hands gripping the white sheet even tighter.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Margo asks while eyeing you up with worry, “Should I take you to a doctor, or something?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, honey.” You wave her off with a nervous chuckle. “I think it’s all in your – head!”

“Um.. okay. I’ll see you later, then.” Margo mumbles as she leaves your room with red cheeks.

You throw your head back in a groan over the awkward encounter, waiting until hearing the front door open and close before pulling the sheets back and glaring at the man between your thighs, who still has his mouth on you, by the way. “You are evil, Charles, pure evil! What were you thinking?”

He draws back slightly to raise a questioning brow. “Do you want me to stop?” However, he resumes his torture when you don’t answer him, looking up at you while grinning like the devil himself as he murmurs into your skin, “That’s what I thought.”

It’s hard, being a woman in the motorsport world, and especially in F1. While some may say it’s unprecedented, and you’d agree, you also think there’s going to be misogynistic pigs in any sector you might end up working in, so why not have some fun? The article comes out the day before the race, right before the qualifying session. You’re not the one to check your phone before going on track, but an urge to do so pokes at you when you realise people are giving you worried looks in the Mercedes garage. Your jaw tightens as you read through the article, fingers tightening around your phone as you read every single sexist comment being made about the way you dress, talk, and your entire F1 career and accomplishments being discredited just because of your gender. You’re absolutely fuming as you throw your phone onto the couch in your driver’s room and grab your helmet and balaclava as you walk briskly towards the garage.

Both Toto and Lewis look at you with surprised, but worried, looks as you announce, “Make me go out first.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Toto asks, sharing a worried glance with Lewis. “You usually wait for a while for other people to–.”

“No, I’m sure.” You tug on your balaclava as you add, “Make sure I’m on softs, please.”

The two men watch you walk off towards your car, Lewis mumbling, “Hell hath no fury like the woman scorned.” The Austrian turns to him, eyebrows raised, which causes him to roll his eyes. “Yes, Toto, I read.”

You’re a force to be reckoned with on track during qualifying. Although having not the best start to the season, you push your Mercedes to its absolute limits, managing to outpace even the Red Bulls, and constantly asking your engineer for another lap until Toto has to ask you to retire for the day – in long story short, you are the pole sitter for the Sunday’s race. There are four people waiting for you when you get out of your car, those four people being: Toto, Susie, Lewis and Mick – though you’re pretty sure the latter was dragged into this intervention because you’re usually unable to get angry next to the reserve driver.

“You were reckless out there, Y/N.” Toto frowns, crossing his arms over his chest (Mick copies his actions, nodding, as he does his best to give you a stern look).

“I drove the best I have in over a year,” you argue, “we are starting on P1 tomorrow because of my driving today.”

“I don’t care if we start P20, you know you shouldn’t have gone out there that angry!” Susie places a pacifying hand on your team principle’s arm when his voice gets higher.

“We know you were angry about the article,” Lewis starts, but you cut him off as you grumble,

“A very astute conversation, Lewis.” You snap, not allowing him to continue as you begin ranting, “He called me a ‘Malibu Barbie’, and suggested that I should find another career, do you know how disheartening that is?”

“They called me Ken once,” Mick mumbles with a small pout on his lips, quickly mumbling “sorry,” when you give him a scathing look.

“There will always be journalists who are against you and me,” Lewis goes on to remind you, “I told that before you signed, and before your first race.”

“I know, but–” You stop to swallow down a sob, tilting your head back to delay the tears which are threatening to come out. “They implied that I’ve slept my way up to where I am today,” you inhale a deep breath as your voice wavers, “I’m so tired of my accomplishments being reduced to this.”

“Men will always be afraid of women who have the ability to be better at their jobs than they are,” Susie smiles softly at you – soft, but not pitiful, you realise. “It doesn’t mean that we should give up, it means that we do our best to make sure they are proved wrong.”

“You could’ve hurt yourself and others today,” Toto shakes his head, “you almost collided with both of the Ferraris.”

Your entire break pauses at the mention of the red cars, mind quickly drifting to the owner of the eyes you love looking into, but you’re quick to snap yourself out, “Are they okay?”

“Both Carlos and Charles are fine,” Susie assures you.

“No more reckless driving,” Toto points a finger at you and then to Lewis, who raises his arms in surrender. “I mean it.” He pats you on the back before leaving, whispering a quick, “Good job today, kiddo.”

“Why do I get in trouble because of you?” Lewis wonders aloud, his hands on his hips.

“We haven’t been teammates for that long, Lewis.” You squint your eyes.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Mick asks with a concerned look on his face.

You nod in thought, pointed to both of them. “I will be, but I need both of your help.”

Mick gulps, voice tentative as he asks, “We’re not doing anything illegal, are we?”

After you’re done explaining your plan to your teammates, you say goodbye to both of them and make your way towards your driver’s room. Charles gets up, quickly, from the couch as you enter, shocked expressions on both of your faces. “H-how did you get in here?”

“I had to sneak in through the back,” he explains as he gets closer to you, hands quickly cup your cheek for his thumbs to swipe under your eyes. “Chérie, did you cry?”

“I- no!” You shake your head as you try to get him off. “I’m just- ugh, I’m just so angry!”

He lets you rant in his arms, eventually giving in and shedding a few tears of frustration, but he doesn’t comment until you’re done with your thoughts, and when he does comment, it is not to undermine your feelings. He takes you back to the hotel, and before the two of you leave your garage, he sneaks a soft kiss on your lips which has you melting in his arms. Unbeknown to you, Susie, Toto and Lewis watch the interaction from the other end of the corridor, with the latter murmuring, “Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.” Lewis gives Toto a side-eye as the team principle looks at him with the same surprised look from before, “For the last time, man, I read!”

All the eyes in the car are on you, the next morning when you, Mick and Lewis arrive to the track in the same car. “You ready to leave?” Lewis asks you, looking at you from the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat; Mick drove to the track instead of you because you told them both there was no way you were driving with the heels you wore today.

“It’s now or never,” you mutter, subconsciously fixing your hair.

“Give them hell.” Mick turns back to smile at you, and you give him a nervous smile as you exit the car.

A few people around the entrance turn to give you funny looks, you reply to some of them by offering a thin-lipped smile. The real show starts when you finally enter the racing grounds, photographers turning to snap a picture of you when they realise it’s actually you. You plaster on a plastic smile, waving at them as you do your absolute best to walk in the 6-inch heels which were definitely not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

“Hi, Barbie!” A similar voice calls out to you, and you smile genuinely for the first time as you call back. ,

“Hi, Ken!” You turn towards Pierre, pushing your sunglasses up towards your hair as you watch the Frenchman walk towards you with Carlos and Charles behind him.

“Please tell me it’s a wig,” Carlos frowns, his eyes lingering on your suddenly platinum hair.

“I’m having fun as a blonde, Carlos.” You shrug innocently, your arms crossing over your chest, and the pink dress you’ve decided to wear for the occasion.

Pierre nods in support, “Blondes do have more fun, Carlos.”

“I- Why?” Carlos asks, not getting the joke shared between you and Pierre. “I don’t understand.”

“Fine, no soup for you, then.” You mumble rolling your eyes. However, your eyes widen when you realise he genuinely doesn’t get the reference. “Seriously- Carlos, it’s from Seinfeld.”

“I’ve never watched it.” He admits, his frown still prominent on his face.

“It’s okay, mate,” Pierre assures him taking him away to explain the joke to him, which leaves you and Charles alone.

You turn to Charles with a coy smile on your face. “You like the new look?”

“I- but, when?” He asks you, more confused then ever. “You were not blonde when I left last night.”

“Mick bought the dye for me.” You explain, trying to supress a grin. “We stayed up all night trying to bleach my hair.”

“You stayed up all night?” Charles asks, more concerned now that he learns that you didn’t have a good night’s sleep. “That’s so wrong, mon soleil, why did you do it? Is it about the article? Of course, it is.”

“Charles, calm down, darling.” You place a hand on his chest, even though you’re hyperaware of the fact that both of you are out in the open. “I’m just going to prove something, alright? I feel fine.”

“You should’ve slept.” Charles frowns, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you feel good enough to be in a car?”

You nod excitedly. “Positive, I have a race to win. And wait until you see what Lewis and I are going to wear.”

“I can’t wait, chérie.”

Just as you promised Charles, you win the race. Your pace is even better than the previous day, but instead of being fuelled by anger, you are fuelled by determination to win. Your engineers play Aqua’s Barbie Girl as a surprise, and to make things even better, Lewis and you stand on the podium in a Mercedes 1-2 in your matching pink helmets and shoes – even Toto donned pink glasses for the occasion. Charles lets out a hearty laugh alongside you on the podium when he sees your outfits. Yeah, you decide in that moment, this one is for the girls.

You and Charles’ relationship happened so unexpectedly, but that doesn’t mean that you regret a secret moment of it. It all started when you were moving to Monte Carlo at the end of last year’s season, and Charles was the only one available to help you in the process – not that you asked him of course, he offered you to help because he is a gentleman like that. It didn’t take the both of you long enough to go on dates as you spent more and more time together, and it was a natural transition to both of you dating each other exclusively. Despite what you expected, the first time Charles actually kissed you was on a cliff overlooking the entirety of Monte Carlo, the view was beautiful, but you were still apprehensive because of your location on the cliff. So, being the gentleman he is, Charles offered to hold you, and that’s when he decided to kiss you.

Lewis comes back to the table after taking a phone call as he apologises, “Sorry, I was on the phone; long distance.”

“God?” You ask him, mockingly nodding, which makes George and Carmen laugh.

“London,” Lewis clarifies as he gives you a questioning look.

You gasp as you ask. “God lives in London?”

“No, my mother in lives in London.” Lewis replies in the calmest voice he can muster.

“You mother is God?” You ask right back, without the appearance of joking. Your small discussion grabs the attention of other drivers and couples as the two of you continue bickering.

“Y/N,” Lewis tries to warn you, but you continue on with your rant.

Leaning towards Charles, Alex and Lily who are seated close together, you announce, “So, God is a woman.”

“Y/N!” Lewis groans this time.

“And my teammates mother, it’s so cool! I’m definitely going to ask for strategy points for the next season.”

The table shares a laugh as you and Lewis continue bickering back and forth, eliciting laughs from people who watch you with amusement. Eventually, Pierre clears his throat. “Okay, what is everyone’s plans for the break?” he asks, trying to look over the long table.

“Isa and I are off to Mallorca,” Carlos announces as she presses a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“I’m going back home,” Yuki shrugs.

“I’m going to see Chloe and Scotty,” Lance mumbles, “and probably Daniel, too.”

Everyone goes around to announce their plans for the break, but when it comes to you and Charles, you are nervous as you announce, “I’m just going to stay home, get to know the city, you know?”

“Yeah, same.” Charles nods, thinking he got away with his evasive answer.

“You’re going to get to know the city you were born and raised in?” Fernando asks with a knowing smirk.

“You can always find new things if you know where to look,” Charles replies in a serious tone, trying to appear stern as he nods to strengthen his point. You’re busy squeezing his hand under the table to death.

“Yeah, like what?” Max asks, which earns him a slap on the arm from Kelly. “What? I’m curious.”

“Like, umm, like-like cafés, and bookshops, and you know those little stores which sell souvenirs but not the generic kind?” He rambles, trying to think of more examples.

“Okay that’s enough,” Lewis cuts him off, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “We all know the two of you are dating. The entire grid, and engineers, and probably most of the team principles.”

“What?” You laugh nervously, trying to shrug him off. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Yeah, we are not dating.” Charles shakes his head, his octave going up as he receives looks from people around the table. “We are not!”

“Drop the act, it’s disgusting the way you two look at each other.” Checo complains from the other side of the table.

“Yeah, and I can see him doing stuff to your hand under the table.” Lance winces.

“He is not doing stuff to my hand under the table!” You squeal, but Charles is too busy trying to contain his laughter next to you. “Is this funny to you, Charles?”

“I mean, a little bit,” Charles confirms, finally succumbing to his laugher, “we have nothing to hide now, chérie.”

“I knew it!” Pierre exclaims, “I told you I saw them together at my birthday!” He tells his girlfriend.

“Toto and I saw them kissing after quali,” Lewis shrugs.

You gasp as you turn towards him. “You did not!”

“Yes we did,” Lewis argues, “even Susie saw.”

Charles pulls you towards himself, still laughing over people arguing whether they saw you together over the past year or not, as he wraps your arms around your shoulder, you murmur to him, “I am so crashing next to him next year, Daniel style.” You take a pause to think, “No, Mazepin style.”

“Maybe not crash into your teammate for the sake of poor Toto, mon soleil.”

You let out an unsatisfied grumble as you hear Alex complain to Lily, “Why didn’t she tell me? I thought we were best friends!” You groan and look around the table at all the people around you, who are all surprisingly supportive of your relationship, you smile as you press a soft kiss to Charles’ lips.

He grins as he asks, “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, “I just think you’re pretty cool.”

“I think you’re pretty cool, too, my love.” He mumbles and gives you another kiss despite few groans coming from around the table.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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waynes-multiverse · 1 year

Text

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean and Y/N – hunting partners, bunker roommates & idiots in love. Sam is fed up with their constant “will they/won’t they” bullshit and decides to move things along with his own plan until these two fated lovers’ paths finally cross one night – naked.

Warnings: +18, smut (mentions of masturbation f & m, oral f, fingering, p in v), crack of the adorkable kind, nudity, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Happy V-Day, babes! 💖 The V stands for... Welp, you know me well enough by now to know where I’m going with this 😝 This is a lot of moronic crack mixed with some sweet smut and fluff. We all know how much I love the “idiots in love” trope, and I fully dove into this one. So, grab your glass of favorite liquor & let’s settle in, shall we? ❤️😘 Written for a request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms after making some adjustments. Found Rihanna’s Love on the Brain fitting for this one, so that’s what we went with as a general mood. Hope you enjoy, m’ladies! 🖤

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Freedom! Thank fucking God…

Y/N exhales a blissful sigh as she saunters to the Dean Cave with a bag of still-hot microwave popcorn in her arms. The Winchester brothers have decided on a little overnight road trip to the next, bigger town over to see a movie – and for some brotherly bonding or whatever – which means Y/N can finally enjoy some goddamn alone time in the bunker. Not that she doesn’t love Sam and Dean to bits and pieces, especially the latter one. They are like family to her, the only one she’s ever truly known, but even family can grow exhausting sometimes.

Living with two boys can grow exhausting, honestly, so Y/N has decided to spend her alone time doing a bunch of girly shit she can’t do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum around – at least not without enduring some judgmental looks.

So, first on the agenda? Watching a bunch of chick flicks, aka any movie the oldest Winchester wouldn’t approve of. Mean Girls, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, You’ve Got Mail, and so on – you get the gist.

The second order of business is a long-ass bathroom time for a little much-needed self-care, including a hot and relaxing bath with an abundance of pink bubbles and soap that smells like the goddamn Queen’s flower garden. Then she’s going to shave and wax… everything. Admittedly, things got a little hairy in recent weeks. There wasn’t a lot of time between hunts and sharing close quarters with two men in motel rooms, and every time she did attempt a proper shave, Dean would yell outside the bathroom door, needing to pee or God knows what else, so she dropped the razor again. Honestly, it’s not like she’s being followed around by an array of suitors these days. It’s been months since anyone has seen her private parts or even her bare legs, including her. On the upside, at least her vibrator doesn’t mind the extra locks.

Oh God, she’s fucking sad, isn’t she? Yeah… It’s a sad affair all around, really.

Regardless, the mention of some self-love reminds her of her third to-do item on her list: sex. Well, technically masturbating to Ryan Gosling’s pictures. Maybe even Andrew Garfield, Sebastian Stan, that hot dude Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy… Leo in his prime. Brad Pitt – young and old. Seth Rogen… Whoa! Don’t judge, okay? It’s not all about looks. She loves when a guy can make her laugh, and his laugh is so sweet, deep, and… bear-y, alright?

Yeah, fine, she knows she needs to get fucked properly by a real dick instead of a fictional one – rather sooner than later before she goes for… the dick that’s been living right under the same roof, only three doors down from her own bedroom.

Shit.

Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him. It felt like being blinded by the sun, the golden freckles on his cheeks and nose resembling the twinkling, starry constellations in the night sky. In an instant, she was an unsuspecting, innocent moth to a blazing flame. How could she possibly resist that irresistible, boyish charm? There’s no vaccine against that green-eyed virus. She swears she’s seen women faint and gasp before him, and she certainly isn’t immune, either. No one truly is, not even other men, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately, Dean will never ever look at her in that way and see more than a friend in her. The thought alone is so ridiculous it makes her snort before she starts to uncontrollably sob and whine. But God, does she wish more than anything he could be hers and she could be his.

Admittedly, she feels a little lonely, especially with the ominous Valentine’s Day looming around the corner, or as Dean likes to call it – unattached drifter Christmas.

Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?

On the other hand, it’s a good thing the oldest Winchester isn’t here tonight, even though he’d probably love the fourth part of her evening: naturism.

Yup, walking around naked while you’re alone is the best fucking thing in the world and so goddamn freeing. Tits out. Let the ladies breathe a little, you know? Having the girls constantly locked up in bra prison is no way to go through life. And Y/N knows for sure Dean would not only agree with that sentiment but also highly support it. After all, he was the one that suggested Naked Tuesdays when she first moved in. Sam then established a rule that the oldest Winchester wasn’t allowed to “sexually harass” her. It was completely unnecessary but sweet nonetheless. Y/N knows Dean’s just a teasing goofball 99% of the time and would never seriously harm her or make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she loves that the brothers are always looking out for her and have her best interest in mind.

So, as soon as she hears the big metal door of the bunker slam shut, Y/N excitedly begins her girl’s night alone, trying not to think too much about the green-eyed hunter and focusing on Gosling on the silver screen instead.

“So, this movie… is it like Zombieland?” Dean inquires with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabs a couple of beers and snacks from the fridge for their road trip to Wichita.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? Dean, no… It’s not an action movie or a comedy. It’s an environmental documentary about how soil can counteract the climate crisis,” the younger Winchester explains, chuckling in amusement.

Dean’s face drops, his features morphing from excitement to shock as his eyes blink in rapid succession. “What?! But you said Woody Harrelson is in it! You lied to me!”

“Nooo,” Sam laughs, shaking his head, and corrects, “I said Woody Harrelson narrates it. It’s a good documentary. Trust me.”

“Fuck no! I don’t wanna watch a movie about dirt,” the older brother whines, his plump lips shaping into a pout. “Can’t we go see something with action and blood and guns? You know, something fun?”

“Dean, our whole life is action, blood, and guns. Would do you some good to care about the Earth and climate every once in a while,” Sam lectures him.

“Screw that! We’ve already saved the planet multiple times. All that Al Gore shit ain’t my problem,” Dean huffs, pops open a beer and takes a sip. “‘Sides, I don’t trust these environmental clowns. I know the first thing they’d wanna do is get rid of Baby, and then I swear I’m gonna start shootin’. I can’t stand for that insanity.”

“Fine,” Sam frowns and lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay here because I wanna watch that movie.”

“Fine by me,” Dean agrees with another sip of beer.

“Good. Since you’re not coming, I might even check out the Mid-America Fine Arts Museum,” Sam shares, the excitement gleaming in his hazel orbs.

“Yeah, nerd yourself out, little brother,” Dean snorts. “Did you know Wichita has a Pizza Hut Museum?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you tell me that every time we go to Wichita, Dean,” Sam reminds him and suppresses the laugh. “Well, uh, have fun alone with Y/N then,” he smirks slyly, and Dean’s short-lived relief disappears as realization dawns, his brow knitting. “Who knows? Might even be a good opportunity for you to tell her you’re madly in love with her.”

“Wha-, uh, pffft, no?” Dean brushes his little brother’s lunatic accusations off the kitchen counter and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, clearing the fluster in his throat. “Dude, are you drunk? I’m so not in love with her, alright? Don’t be ridiculous, okay? Do I find her incredibly hot, smart, sweet, brave, kind, adorable, and funny? Sure… That’s why she’s our friend, right? But that doesn’t mean I like… love “love” her, okay? At least not like that.” He forms sarcastic air quotes around the cursed word and grimly swallows his uncomfortableness and the lies down with a big gulp of beer. “And for crying out loud, keep your voice down when you say shit like that. I don’t want her to hear us,” he hisses, his green orbs nervously eyeing the kitchen door. “It’s echo-y in here, you know?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam casually shrugs his shoulders, clearly not buying a single one of the green-eyed hunter’s words, and it only annoys the older Winchester more.

“Don’t-… Nuh-uh, don’t gimme that fake ‘whatever you say’ bullshit shtick. There’s really nothing going on, alright?” Dean assures anew, growing more irritated by the minute.

Sam twitches his shoulders once more and then cockily folds his arms over his chest, a teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, so you won’t mind if I set her up with Matt, right? It’s just-… She seems a little lonely lately.”

“Lonely?” Dean arches an eyebrow in apprehension and scoffs, “She’s fine, Sam. She’s got us.”

Sam frowns for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “Dean, you honestly don’t think that’s enough for her.”

“Why not?” The older Winchester shrugs, refusing to see clearly. “It’s enough for me. Our life is awesome. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Yes, you’re obviously the golden standard for healthy relationships,” Sam mutters sarcastically and rolls his eyes back.

Dean purses and smacks his plump lips, scratching the bit of scruff on his throat. “Well, uh… shut up, okay? And don’t set her up with Matt. The guy’s a douche.”

“Alright, what about Josh? You like Josh,” Sam suggests next.

“Yeah, as a hunting partner, he’s alright, not as a boy toy for our friend, Sam,” Dean grits bitterly and rolls his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re not her pimp. Just leave her alone, alright?”

“Look, if you don’t wanna date her – fine. That’s on you. Just don’t stand in the way of her happiness because you can’t stop self-sabotaging yourself, man,” Sam argues with a judgmentally raised brow.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dean grumbles, the offense clearly written in every deep wrinkle on his face.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam deadpans and grabs his laptop bag, making his way out of the kitchen.

“Stop saying that!”

“Look, I’d love to discuss all your weird issues in detail with you, but I still have to pick up Eileen on my way to Wichita,” Sam notes nonchalantly as Dean trails behind him through the bunker’s corridors. “I’ve watched you two beat around the bush for years. It’s getting annoying. You guys are worse than Ross and Rachel.”

“Wait, Eileen? Did you plan all of this on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?” Dean’s voice rises with his exasperation. He hates when Sam puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, mainly in his business. It’s the typical little brother shit he had to deal with all his life. Siblings, man…

“Me? No, I would never,” his younger brother replies with feigned innocence, marching up the metal stairs to the exit, but Dean can hear the goddamn deceit in his words.

“I don’t believe you,” Dean grits with a sternly creased brow, narrowing his juniper eyes at his younger brother as he halts at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam grins complacently and opens the door. “Just don’t be an idiot. Make the first move, alright? That’s all you need to do. Trust me. It’s gonna be fine. She likes you, too.”

With that, the youngest Winchester closes the door behind him, leaving Dean to ruminate in his convoluted misery.

The hunter then stomps through the hallways of the bunker, furiously mumbling to himself as he passes the Dean Cave on his way to his room. Hearing sounds coming from inside, he stops by the cracked door for a moment and realizes Y/N is watching a movie in there. He considers joining her before recognizing Gosling’s voice, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Of course, she’s watching chick flicks again, so he decides against his plan, knowing some silly rom-com could potentially be a slippery slope and lead to some dangerous innuendos.

He downright refuses to play into his little brother’s evil scheme. Sam’s not goddamn Lindsay Lohan, and this isn’t the fucking Parent Trap. It’s better and safer if Dean stays far away from Y/N for the entirety of Sam’s absence, so the hunter quietly retreats to his room.

Dean decided to watch a bunch of his favorite horror movies until late into the night, ignoring the boiling feelings under the surface. He then closes his laptop with a heavy sigh, ready to call it a night after a nice, warm shower.

With headphones on and some classic rock music drowning out his hammering thoughts, he takes off his clothes and wraps a towel around himself. During an earlier snack run to the kitchen, he noticed the Dean Cave had already been deserted, the room quiet and dark. Y/N luckily has withdrawn to her own room again, so he knows he won’t accidentally run into her. She still hasn’t left his mind, his head in a constant swirl since his stupid conversation with Sam.

So, naturally, Dean comes to the conclusion that only some self-completion down the shower drain might help to clear his thoughts and flush the huntress out of his mind for good. He’s not proud of it, but it’s certainly not the first time since he’s known her that he thinks about her while jerking off. Usually, it only happens when he has to spend too many nights in a row with her in a small motel room without a way to escape, but this time, though, he fully blames Sam and his big mouth for it.

Wandering down the hall to the bathroom, his head bobs to the rhythm of the music flowing through his ears, his green eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolls through his playlist. Mindlessly opening the door, he suddenly freezes as another body bumps straight into him.

It all happens pretty fast from there. There’s a loud, high-pitched shriek that filters through the music, his hand drops his phone, and his headphones fall down with it, severing the connection and leaving him in silence as his palms catch a taut-skinned body in his arms while the towel around his waist glides to the tiled floor. And then, he just stares into two big and shocked pupils, which are probably as wide as his own.

Fuck…

For a second, Dean feels incredibly exposed before noticing the warm skin that’s pressed flush against his own body. Yep, he doesn’t dare to check, but he’s certain Y/N’s completely naked, too.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…,” Y/N’s panicked voice chimes in his ears as both of them awkwardly avert their gazes in different directions to the ceiling and avoid eye contact at all costs while still clinging tightly onto each other, aware that if one of them moves, it’s game over and they’d see each other in their full glory. Basically, they’re each other’s damn shields – as uncomfortable as that may be. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I, uh…” That’s when Dean realizes Y/N probably didn’t even know he stayed behind and let Sam go to Wichita alone. “Sam wanted to watch a documentary.”

“I know!” Y/N yells in annoyance and grits, “You were supposed to go with him! Granted, I was surprised you agreed to it in the first place, but still, you’re not supposed to be home!”

“He didn’t tell me it was a documentary about dirt, alright? Otherwise, it would’ve been a straight-up ‘no’ from the start,” Dean explains and tries not to get hard as he feels Y/N’s tits press against his chest. Judging by the precise feeling that’s poking him, she must be somewhat cold.

“Yes, he did! I was right there when you agreed,” Y/N argues. “He talked about it for over an hour.”

“Oh,” Dean stumps and clears his throat rather awkwardly. Who could blame him for not listening, huh?

“You never listen to people! It’s so goddamn annoying!”

“Y/N, you need to stop talking, sweetheart,” Dean begs her, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrates on anything else for dear life.

Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint… He attempts to distract his mind from the unavoidable, but it’s no use. The skin-on-skin contact is his final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N continues in a furious huff, “It’s not always about you–”

“Y/N, please… All that angry shaking isn’t helping, sweetheart.”

The huntress cocks an eyebrow high, almost reaching the messy bun on top of her head. “Helping with what?”

“Uhm…”

And that’s when he can’t control it any longer. There’s a distinctive twitch against her thigh, and he’s sure she’s felt it, too. Shit, shit, shit…

“Oooooh.” Y/N awkwardly presses her lips into a thin line, her fingertips tapping a nervous melody on his skin. Her single utterance makes his heart stop. It’s game over. She’s going to call him a gross perv, move out of the bunker, and then never speak to him again. “It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly, her head bobbing with a thick swallow as she reassuringly squeezes his biceps where her palms rest.

“Y/N, I’m-, uh… oh God… I’m so, so sorry,” he stammers, deciding to keep his eyes shut to escape some of the awkwardness.

“I-, no, it’s not-… This is a weird situation we’re in… It’s fine. Completely normal, right? Like, uhm, like a reflex?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” Dean gulps, his eyelids slowly fluttering open and gaze drifting back to the ceiling. It’s not a goddamn reflex, though. It’s all her. It’s the effect she has on him.

“We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…”

“Uh-huh, yup, nope, agree,” he says and clears his throat once more, hoping the fluster will leave his body soon. “You, uh, wanna bend down, and we both can grab our towels?”

Fuck, it’ll probably be awkward between them for months now. They’ll avoid each other during breakfast, lunch, dinner… They’ll stop watching movies together, Sam will have to be their buffer and hate it, and they probably won’t look directly into each other’s eyes till Christmas – and it’s only fucking February.

“Oh, uhm… I actually, technically didn’t, uh, come with a towel?”

His eyebrow twitches upward, head slightly tilting to the side as he thinks about her words. “Oh, uh… Wait… Were you, uhm, walking around like… naked through the bunker?”

Well, there’s an image Dean’s never gonna get out of his head. Now, he’ll forever wonder if she takes off her clothes as soon as he walks out the door.

“Look, I thought I was alone, okay?! Again – you’re not actually supposed to be here! Don’t judge me!” Y/N defends, the panic returning to her voice, and then adds something in an almost inaudible mumble, “Just wanted to let the girls breathe a little. Sue me…”

“What?” His head tilts some more, the fine creases on his brow deepening.

“Nothing… never mind,” she quickly splutters, her cheeks flushing bright red as she visibly swallows.

Dean snorts. He’s in love with a dork, isn’t he? God, she’s adorable.

And then, it fucking happens again. Dammit…

“Was that…”

“Again – I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes once more, although he’s sure he can’t do it often enough. His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.

“No, uh… So how do you wanna do this? We could, uhm, maybe turn 180 and then close our eyes and let go… I could, uhm, run really fast down the hall, and you could just quickly back into the bathro–”

Y/N doesn’t get to finish laying out her plan. Dean’s lips on hers stop any further words from spilling out of her mouth. The featherlight kiss doesn’t last longer than a painfully anxious second, his mind racing a mile a minute, his brain positively fried.

What the hell is he fucking doing? There’s only one rule in the bunker: don’t sexually harass Y/N. Dean’s pretty damn sure he’s breaking that rule right now and crossing too many goddamn lines. How’s he supposed to ever recover from this?

“What, uh…” Y/N’s speechless, every muscle frozen stiff in his embrace. Her eyebrows draw up and reach her hairline, eyes blown wide in shock. “Or that… you could do that…”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dean groans in defeat and shame, hoping the Earth opens up and takes him straight to the burning fires of Hell. See? There aren’t enough apologies in this world to make up for his stupidity. “You know, this is all Sam’s fault… He just got into my head… I mean, this is obviously the wrong first move… I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just have a, you know, teeny-tiny crush on you, but still, this is obviously inappropriate.”

“You-, uhm, you have a crush on me?”

Dean swallows the hard lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I do,” he admits bravely. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a temporary thing, alright?”

Y/N nods slightly in understanding. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” he gulps and shrugs sheepishly, watching her brow furrow in confusion.

“But… that’s the day we met,” Y/N points out.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably and rebuffs her concerns. “Is it? No…,” he rasps. “Well, uhm, anyways, that doesn’t change anything. Don’t worry, alright? No need to make this weird. I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.”

Y/N’s head bobs again, her lips pursing. “Okay, uhm… But what if you, uh, you know, maybe get over me in the literal sense… and I could get under you?”

The gears in his head start turning as he musingly squints his pine green eyes at her and studies her features. She seems nervous. There’s a bite of her lower lip and a light swallow in her throat, her pupils flickering insecurely. “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?”

“Uhm… yes? Yeah?” She looks up at him and meets his gaze, their eyes fully connecting for the first time since they have catapulted themselves into this mortifying situation.

“Is that a question?” Dean checks and chuckles lightly. “Because you kinda need to be sure about this, y’know?”

Another swallow and Y/N nods, determination gleaming in her eyes. He feels her weight shift forward, her feet rising on tip-toes as her palms move from his upper arms to the back of his neck. Her soft, pillowy lips catch his, a tender touch as their mouths carefully mold together. She sucks on his upper lip, nibbles on the bottom one before he feels the tip of her tongue lick between. He opens his mouth wider, lets her slip inside.

Dean’s hands then begin to travel, his confidence growing as Y/N’s fingers tug slightly on the short strands of hair in the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. One large hand cups her neck, the other one smoothing down her spine and pressing into the small of her back. He pushes her closer, deepens the kiss, and both of them moan needily while their tongues dance with each other. His grip on her becomes stronger, their bodies melting into one. Y/N gasps into his mouth, her hips pushing against his, skin on skin, as her bare pussy brushes his bulging dick.

“Shit…,” Dean mutters breathlessly against her lips, and Y/N breaks the kiss and meets his eyes with a hint of a smile.

Her lips are red and glistening, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. He cups her blushed cheek, thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen flesh of her bottom lip as he mirrors her soft smile.

“You okay?” Y/N checks, giggling slightly.

Dean chuckles, palm still caressing her cheek. “Yeah, uh, just realized we’re incredibly naked.”

She snorts and nods, “Yeah, guess that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Dean agrees and laughs a little, his cheeks blushing with bashfulness. “But, look, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? We can take it slow.”

Y/N thoughtfully chews on her lip, her dimples showing a smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin before he pulls her back to his lips for a searing kiss. Y/N’s hands lock around his neck, allowing him to lift her up, and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hand weaves into her hair, still damp in the back of her neck from her bath, as the scent of her delicious body wash and lotion seep into his nostrils with each intake of air.

“You smell nice,” he notes, his mouth trailing along her jawline and down her throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake as he sucks her pulse point black and blue. “Like a flower garden…”

Y/N giggles, the cute sound in his ears causing his heart to flutter. She clasps his jaw and draws his attention back to her face, nuzzling her nose against his, whispering, “Bedroom. Need you inside me…”

“Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” he jokes, making her laugh more. “Okay, hold on, sweetheart. You ready?”

She confirms it with a nod, and Dean adjusts his grip on her body, grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning. The huntress squeals and giggles in his arms as he kicks the door open to his bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She lets herself fall back and stretches out on the bed, her shoulder blades indenting the memory foam, and he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.

“You’re fast,” Y/N teases him as he quickly makes his way on top of her.

Dean chuckles, placing soft kisses on her lips in between his laughs. “Yeah, well, I’d run a mile just to get a taste of you, sweetheart. But don’t worry – not all of it will be this fast, alright?”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would be,” she giggles and licks her lips. “Can you just do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean assures her and lovingly brushes her hair behind her ears.

“Just judging by, uhm, size-,” she interrupts her sentence for a giggle, and he joins in. She’s so fucking cute. “Can you go slow?”

“Oh, trust me. I would’ve taken my time either way, but tell you what – I’ll even do you one better,” he says. His fingers then slide up her arm, along her collarbone and down to one breast. She shivers underneath him, her skin breaking into delicate goosebumps, soon soothed by his warm lips. His thumb brushes her bud, plays with it until it hardens and then alleviates the sensation with his hot breath and wet tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” Y/N sighs blissfully, her toes curling as a smile shapes on her lips, fully relaxing under his care. “Feels so good, De.”

His chuckle vibrates against her ribcage, his mouth traveling down her upper body, his kisses not missing an inch of smooth skin. Every rib, every beauty mark, every freckle gets the attention they deserve, even teasingly dipping his tongue into her navel. The last tender kiss is placed on her mound as he moves between her legs and spreads her thighs a little wider.

A smirk forms on his face as he leers at her pussy, bright pink and already glistening with her arousal. He catches her watchful gaze, sees a bit of insecurity shimmering in it as she nibbles her fingernails and bottom lip almost bloody, so he cheekily wiggles his eyebrows and sends her a wink, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at his antics before she lets herself fall back into the mattress with a calming, deep breath.

Licking his thumb pad, he presses it against her sensitive nub, her thighs jolting for a second at the initial touch as a hiss escapes her throat, followed shortly by a strangled whimper. Y/N’s hands fist the bedsheet a little tighter, her knuckles turning white, every muscle wired to the nth degree. Her chest heaves frantically as her breathing grows more erratic with each little circle of his digit. His index finger then stretches and reaches her dripping entrance, rubbing at the tight ring before he easily pushes inside and curls it, poking the spongey spot.

“Fuck, Dean…,” she manages to croak out, biting down on her tongue.

Dean only chuckles, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach and loving how responsive she is to his touches. There’s a loud whimper when he kisses her pussy lips, tongue dipping between and giving her clit a kitten lick, distracting her enough to shove his middle finger inside her cunt as well, scissoring them once he’s knuckles-deep.

“Oh God… shit,” she groans and whines above him.

He laughs lightly and curiously observes the torment on her face. “Wanna cum, huh?”

“Dean, I swear… I-… please,” she begs, her initial threat morphing into a soft plea for mercy.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he assures her amusedly and swiftly presses his mouth back on her pussy, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves between his plump lips and thrusting his digits harder and faster inside her. It only takes three, four pushes and one skilled suck before she convulses, trembles, and soaks his face and fingers in her juices. He groans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue, his cock twitches gleefully between his bow legs, only too eager to slide in next.

“Oh God! Fuck… shit… D-Dean!”

The green-eyed hunter grins broadly up at her, his face almost split in half as he bathes in her blissed-out expression and the rosy cheeks that accompany it.

“Wow,” she breathes and shakily catches his swollen and wet lips as he comes back up to her eye level, propping his arms up on the sides of her head.

“I think you’re ready for the big gun now,” he laughs and places a loving kiss on the tip of her nose and another one on her forehead.

“Uh-huh, I’m not so sure after this,” she giggles, still catching her breath. She cups his jaw, kisses him deeply, and licks her arousal from his pillowy lips. “You’re… amazing.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” he winks, the softness of his smile contrasting his cockiness. “Do we, uhm, need–”

Y/N shakes her head, anticipating his question. “No, uh, I’m on the pill. I just need you.”

With a smile, he nods and ducks his head, entangling her in a blazing kiss as he devours her lips. His hand pushes between their heated bodies, fisting his achingly hard cock before he threads his dickhead through her folds, coats it with her slick before it catches at her entrance. His thick and leaking tip pushes inside, slowly entering her drenched cunt inch by inch till he’s buried deep and touches her cervix, stretching her tight walls around his impressive girth and hearing her little gasps of sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps at the feeling of her pussy enveloping his cock and gently brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her deeply. “Taking me so well… Such a good girl f’me.”

“God, you feel like heaven,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he languidly pulls out to the tip, he kisses down her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. His hand wraps around one of hers, pinning it above her head to the mattress, fingers tightly interlocking before he thrusts back into her heat. His hips then work up a rhythm, a slow and soft song, as he fucks her deep and slams home harder at just the right spot.

Her second orgasm builds slowly yet deeply, aiming to shatter her from within as she hears the ticking of a bomb in every muscle of her body, counting down the seconds before a massive explosion. She moans loudly as the earth-shattering climax hits her at full force, booming and wild as she curses his name over and over.

His fingers grip hers tighter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he lazily fucks her, her pulsating walls clenching around his firm cock. His hips begin to stutter, broad shoulders quaking as he spills deep inside her and stills. He grunts, her name falling from his lips, loud, strained, and primal when he cums, painting her walls with his milky seed.

“Wow,” Dean repeats her earlier sentiment, her giggle causing his heart to soar higher than the moon in the sky. “You okay?”

A wide smile spreads across her face, a tired nod moving her head. “Yeah, more than okay,” she assures him and seeks out his lips.

Dean places one last kiss on her hairline before removing his limp and drenched dick from her center, rolling to his side and pulling her onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her frame. “Hey, Y/N?”

She wearily lifts her heavy head to meet his green eyes. “Hm?”

“Were you, uhm, lonely?” Dean asks, his fingertips drawing tender patterns on her back.

“I guess… a little, yeah,” she admits. “Why?”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. “Nothing. Just… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You wanna move into my room?”

Y/N’s beam is blinding, her cheeks blushing brightly pink. “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replies and snuggles back into his chest.

Dean then notices her eyes falling shut, losing the battle against sleep as her breathing calms in his embrace, his own mind following her into dreamland soon after.

In the morning, Y/N and Dean are still soundly asleep, entangled in sheets and limbs, when there are a few abrupt knocks on the door before it pops open to its full extent, the youngest Winchester’s voice drowning in from the hall.

“Hey, Dean? I’m back! Look, I figured we could talk. I’m sorry about yesterd–… ay… Whoa!”

“Wha-!” Y/N jolts up from the bed at the unexpected intrusion, her elbow hitting Dean straight in the face as he rises behind her. The force of the blow knocks him out of bed, the hunter tumbling to the cold ground.

Y/N clasps her palm over her mouth, staring at Sam’s shocked expression, their eyes both wide before she glances over her shoulder to her lover on the ground.

“Ow! Jesus…”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Sam,” the huntress smiles awkwardly at the younger Winchester, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders as she hides her naked body underneath the sheets. “Good morning. How-, uh, how was the documentary?”

“Uhm, good?” Sam doesn’t look any less freaked out by what his hazel eyes are witnessing, though.

Dean groans behind her, rubbing a palm over his aching face before sending his little brother a lazy grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”

Sam then lets out a long sigh through his nose and mutters, “About damn time…”

“Yeah, about that, little brother… Might call Eileen and book yourself a room for at least a week somewhere,” Dean tells him, smirking.

Sam’s brow furrows, “What? Why?”

“Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have,” Dean explains casually, watching Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh?” Y/N sends her boyfriend an intrigued look, which he responds to with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows and a wink. “Even the dungeon? Are you, like, gonna tie me up and stuff?”

Dean’s eyes look at her lovingly, causing her cheeks to flush with heat. “Where have you been all my life, sweetheart?”

“Oh God, what have I done…,” Sam groans with a thick swallow.

PHEW! And we’re done with one shot week, babes! 😮‍💨 I honestly hadn’t planned this but found some inspiration over the weekend and finished some WIPs, and since they were all about different kinds of love, I figured they were perfect for Valentine’s Day 💖

Hope you enjoyed these various journeys, and if you did, please consider telling me here and leaving me with some kind words 🥰 Now excuse me while I go work on a few Soldier Boy one shots. I’ve missed my toxic Ben-Ben. Read you soon, babes! 😝🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @avanatural

Dean Tags: @parinarain @hobby27 @fromcaintodean

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #dean x y/n #writing request #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic

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justlemmeadoreyou · 8 months

Note

I saw requests were open and I have one☺️. How about one when you are like Brad Pitts daughter or anyone famous daughter and you just started dating and his team or Friends like make fun of you and hurt your feelings or just say he is using you.

hi hun!! thank you for sending the request!! i hope you like this!!!

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

Warnings: cursing, kissing

masterlist!! | send requests!!

“He’s just using you because your dad is an A-lister”

Those were the words Y/n wished to never hear. But, she always did, in her every relationship.It was when her friends began to say that, that she knew the relationship was reaching its end.

Y/n. Y/n Pitt. The daughter of Brad.

She was almost as famous as her father, if not less. A successful model and actress, a philanthropist and currently, the girlfriend of Harry Styles.

Her fame and success didn’t come handy, despite her father being a prominent name in the industry. Her career got a big break when she won a prestigious beauty pageant, and she has never looked back ever since. She made her way by herself, from the bottom to where she is now.

Still, whenever she hears the phrase “he used you”, it hits like a dagger deep into her heart, and that makes her question if she would ever be loved by anyone for who she is.

Which takes her back to today, sitting in a cafe with her friends, which was supposed to be a hang out. But, soon it turned into a relationship discussion, full of petty gossips and hate. About her and Harry.

“Dude, you know that he is with you because of your dad, right? I mean, come on, Y/n! You can’t be this naive!”

“That’s totally true! I mean, like, think about it, next month is the opening of your family production house, which was announced 6 months ago. And, Harry started dating you just around that. That just can’be a fucking coincidence.”

She sighed, as she listened to the both of them trash talk Harry. She knew they weren’t true. They hadn’t met 6 months ago. They had met a year ago, and occasionally saw each other at awards and openings. They did some harmless flirting for so many months, but then, one day, they were drunk and hooked up. After that, they started to date. It was Harry’s idea, because he didn’t want her to feel like he did all that flirting to get in her pants one day. He genuinely liked her, and was hoping to ask her out. And that had felt like the perfect opportunity.

They had been happy ever since. Harry didn’t inquire too deeply about their family’s business. He wasn’t interested in her money and fame. He was interested in her. He liked her. Right?

“Y/n! Are you even listening?” she was broken from her trance of thoughts by her friend, and she immersed herself back into the conversation.

“You have got to do some background check on him. See what he does on meetings with his team. He just finished a tour, he wouldn’t be planning another one so soon. You know, snoop around, find out stuff.”

“I am not going to do that! That would mean I don’t trust him! And I do! I trust him. And what he does on meetings with his pr team is his Harry!!!business. I don’t want to put my nose in between.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“Yeah. Say him hi from us if you see him soon. Or if you see him at all”

That hurt her.

True, they both hadn’t seen each other since a few days. Weeks, if you will. But, he told her that he was busy and had to visit his mum for a while. And how could she argue with that?

She decided to not answer them back, terminating any further arguments. They changed the topic soon after, talking about some other gossip.

. . .

Throwing her stuff on the floor, she slumped down on the bed. The workout was good, but sometimes, it drained the whole life out of her.

After catching her breath, she got up and pulled out her phone, pulling up Harry’s contact.

They had texted three days ago, and the messages made her smile,

Harry: Okay, so, do you like tea or not?

Y/n: I like tea. But not that much hat you will bring me a while shop of your “Special England tea”!!

Harry: It’s not even that much. Plus, I will drink it with you.

Y/n: But still???

Harry: Come on!!

Y/n: Alright, fine! But you will make tea for me. Every morning and evening.

Harry: Done! Always at your service, ma’am! 🫡 Plus, you know, tea has antioxidants. And it boosts immunity! I can make a cuppa for you everytime after we fuck.

Y/n: Harry!!!

Harry: What?? It really boosts energy. After one round, you feel so tired and—

Y/n: Alright, stop! You’re such a menace.

Harry: I’m your menace!! You took responsibility of this menace those months ago.

Y/n: Don’t make me regret that!

Harry: Aww :(( I’m sad now.

Y/n: Wanna facetime?

Harry: Yess! But I’m still sad :(( 🙁

Y/n: Yes, Harry. I will make it up to you! Now call before I change my mind.

Harry: Yes, ma’am 🫡

They used to text regularly, but called rarely. The last call had been about a week ago, when he was drunk and had butt-dialled her. They had talked, and she managed to safely halp him get to his room, drink water and go to sleep. And he slept without hanging up, and so did she. Harry woke up at midnight, and started sneezing, which woke her up. She wanted to check him for fever, but he promised he was okay, and was going back home soon after, so she didn’t have to worry afout him. She was a bit assured by that, but still, she couldn’t stopped worrying.

He hadn’t called ever since. Even the last one was a accident.

She wasn’t the clingy type, or someone who needed calling and texting every minute and every hour of the day. They both had professional careers that mattred to them profusely. But, she missed him. So, she decided to call.

He picked up, and was clearly in the middle of something.

“Y/n! How are you?” she didn’t hear them clearly, over all the talking in the background.

“Harry! Where are you?!”

“I’m in a meeting!”

“But-you were supposed to be at your mum’s!”

“Yeah! I came back early. I had a meeting her in LA. It’s about an upcoming film.”

“A film!?”

“Yeah. It’s in the talks. I haven’t signed it yet, though.”

“What is this about?!”

“I’ll tell you, I’m coming back sson. Then we can go on a dinner or something. And hey! I almost forgot! The production is done by your dad’s firm!! Isn’t that great!”

Shit.

“Oh! You-you didn’t tell me that.”

“Yeah, your dad asked me not to. But, it’s gonna be on the media soon, so I thought you hear it from me rather than the press.”

“Listen, I gotta go. I’ll talk later.”

“Sure, love! Bye!”

And she cut the call.

Were her friends right? Did he use her for all these months just for this?

Maybe they were. Maybe they weren’t.

She felt sad. Sure, the offer might’ve been by her dad, but, no one talked to her? No one even bothered to even tell her about it, till the last moment. Till the paparazzi were gonna know so that she won’t feel bad for herself by hearing it from them.

Maybe they were right. Maybe he did date her to get the advantage, and will soon breakup with her, as soon as his job from her is over.

As soon as he has finished using her.

. . .

He was coming back today. But, she wasn’t bothered. He could come, and go back to his own house. Not bother talking to her, or even seeing her face. She didn’t want that.

Despite that, she picked up his call.

“Y/n? You didn’t pick up my call yesterday. Was calling you before I got on the plane.”

“Yeah-I was kinda busy yesterday.”

“Oh. So? I’m back. I’m gonna get my baggage and then…maybe I can come over?” he smiled, she could tell.

“Uh-I don’t know, Harry. I’m tired. I had a shoot yesterday and I haven’t eaten much.”

“So? Let me take you to dinner.”

“I’d rather stay ion tonight”

“So I–”

“Alone.”

“Oh. Alright. Okay. Call me if you need me.”

I won’t. She thought to herself.

“Bye, Harry” not “Bye, lovie” or “Bye, H”

Maybe she was tired. Harry decided not to think about it too much, and instead, went to his house.

. . .

“Harry!! How’s my man?”

“Hey! I’m good! You know, same old-same old.”

“Yeah! Where’s Y/n? She isn’t here?”

“No, man. She actually wanted to rest today. She had a shoot yesterday”

“No, she didn’t. She was with us yesterday. We went shopping, and then drinks, even.”

“Oh…”

“Maybe she was tired? Or hungover?”

“Or maybe she didn’t want to be with me.”

“Hey! Don’t say that. She actually likes you. Talk to her.”

“Yeah. I will”

He didn’t talk to her.

. . .

Y/n was scrolling through her phone, when she heard the door knock.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Harry.”

She wanted to pretend she wasn’t here. But, it was too late for that.

“Coming!”

She opened the door, and was welcomed with white peonies. A lot of them.

“Good morning, love”

She couldn’t stop the smile that took over her face on seeing him in the morning. The glowy face, the handsome smile.

“Good morning! Come in”

He walked in, removing his shoes, and to the kitchen to put the flowers in water.

He came back, and she was sitting on the sofa.

“I put them in water. Hope you don’t mind”

“No! I don’t. Come on, sit.”

He sat, to hug her, and sling a hand over her shoulder.

But, she slid away.

So, he sat away too, both ending up on the opposite ends of the large sofa.

“So? How you’ve been?”

“I’m fine, thank you! How was your shoot that day?”

“It was alright.”

Lie. He didn’t bother asking her more, not wanting to hear more lies.

“You free today?”

“Yeah…I think so?”

“So, can we go out? A coffee or something?”

“Or, we can hang out here.”

She smiled. He caught it, and scooted closer, wanting to kiss her.

She didn’t protest, allowed his lips on hers. It was when he deepened it, and his hands went to her shirt buttons.

“Harry–Harry!”

He pulled back, confused.

“Yeah?”

I-I don’t really feel like– you know”

“Oh. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. I just don’t feel too up for it”

“Sure.” they both looked down, an awkward silence engulfing the atmosphere.

“I should leave” he said after a few seconds, taking the hint that she clearly didn’t want him there.

“Oh. You don’t wanna stay?”

“Not really.”

Saying that, he saw his way out.

“She dosen’t like me anymore. Maybe found someone else.” he thought

“He got what he wanted. Why is he staying? He should leave already.” she thought.

Harry was sad. As he walked towards his car, he felt anger. She didn’t like him anymore. Could’ve just said to him at his face.

He couldn’t live like this. So, he decided to got back to confront her.

Before Y/n could close the door shut, Harry was back.

“Harry?”

“Yeah. Me.” he growled, so angry, his eyes were red, and fists clenched.

“What happened?” she asked, a bit scared.

“You tell me what happened. You don’t like me anymore?”

“That’s not–how can you say that?”

“You don’t talk to anymore, you don’t call me, or even text me. You don’t want to hang out with me, hell, you can’t even stand kissing me anymore.” he was hovering over her, and she was scared now. He realized that, and backed down, throwing himself on the couch.

“That’s not true! And you can’t talk like that to me!”

“I’m sorry. But you could just tell me. Instead of making me suffer like that. Or do you like that?”

She too was angry now.

“Maybe I do. Right now, I fucking do. And that is much better than what you did to me!”

“And what did I do?!”

“You used me. You fucking used me to get contacts with my family. You just wanted to get close to my dad so that you could use his money on your stupid new movie!!”

“What? Fuck! You think that low of me?!”

They both were yelling now.

“It’s not “thinking low” of you. It’s what’s true.. You didn’t even tell me anything. Hell, I didn’t even know you were doing another movie.”

“I was planning on telling you over dinner. After I came back.”

“But, you couldn’t. You feared that I would learn everything from the media, so you told me haphazardly over a fucking call!”

“Oh, so would you rather have heard it from them?”

“Could’ve been better. Better than hearing from a fucking liar. A fucking loser who just used me to get my father’s money.”

“Watch your tone, Y/n. I haven't gone that low. And you know that.”

“Maybe I don’t. Maybe you did, and once you got it, came back here to break up with me.”

“You’re so fucking childish!”

“Oh. Break up with me, then. Do it”

“Maybe I will” he mocked her. And walked out the door, slamming it shut.

He went back to his car, and made his way inside this time. Once the anger had subsided, he cried. And so did she.

. . .

“Harry styles rejected a movie produced by Y/n Pitt’s father. A coincidence or a desperate attempt?”

She slumped, when she read the article. and then about ten more, about how he had backed down in order to save his relationship. Some said that it was a publicity stunt.

She pulled up Harry’s contact, calling him.

"Why?"

"To get it off your mind that I did not use you."

"Fuck, Harry. What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you. I want you."

"Really?"

"Yes, y/n. really. I did not give up a million dollar project for just "really""

"You didn't have to, you know. And that wasn't a good bargain either. What did you get? Me? Should've taken the movie instead."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah"

"You want me to break up with you. And take the movie instead.?"

"Yes. if that's what you want."

"What I want is you. How do I say it so you believe me?"

"Take me on a date."

. . .

any feedback is appreciated!! even a like matters!!

taglist:

@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @drewrry

tell me if you wanna be added or removed!!

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bradpittwh0re · 1 year

Text

🫧masterlist🫧

instagram blurbs

model!reader

kendall jenner - part 1 , part 2

bella hadid - part 1

actress!reader

margot robbie - part 1 , part

sydney sweeney - part 1

singer!reader

ariana grande - part 1 , part 2

madison beer - part 1

heiress!reader

kaia gerber - part 1

ceo!reader

rihanna - part 1

oneshots

model!reader

kendall jenner - getting ready for the oscars with vogue

ceo!reader

rihanna -

series

farm life brad pitt - the daily rual life of brad and y/n

characters

cliff booth

joe black

Joe loves your b00bs

headcanons

model!reader

kendall jenner - brad pitt dating model!reader would include

highschool!reader

dating teen brad pitt would include be ...

scenarios

actress!reader

margot robbie - brad talking about how he got into a relationship with actress y/n

sydney sweeney - interviewer asks brad about how he feels about the rumors on his relationship with actress!reader filming a movie with his supposed ex-girlfriend.

moodboard

highschool!reader

part 1

singer!reader

part 1

younger!reader

part 1

extras

mr and mrs smith - gifs

gq magazine sep 2019 - pics

seven years in tibet premiere - pics

moneyball - pics

golden globe 2023 - pics

2023 street style - pics

brad pitt and gwyneth paltrow 90s - pics

brad pitt and angelina jolie in mr and mrs smith(2004) - pics

grand prix - pics

wimbledon men's final - pics

bullet train - gifs

cliff booth icons - pics

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t-h-i-n-g · 2 years

Note

hii i hope you’re well! could i request a percy jackson x daughter of apollo reader where they’re long time best friends who both fell in love somewhere along the way, but neither has wanted to confess for fear of ruining the relationship or getting rejected?

Give It A Chance

a/n: percy jackson is 100% a swifty thats all im saying. does that have anything to do with the fic? no it doesn't i just have to put it out there lol. thanks for requesting!! i hope its okay that i made the not want to ruin what they have thing more one sided towards the reader. i hope you like it!!

word count: 1.2k

summary: he shouldn’t be staring at you like this. you shouldn’t even be in this position, literally. you both had so much to lose, he had to understand that.

warnings: light swearing, ?pining?, let me know if i missed any!

PJO/HOO - masterlist m.masterlist

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

How did you even get here? Well if you wanted to be literal and go back to the beginning you could. So let's do that.

You and Percy were friends even before you knew that gods existed. Before the never ending terror of being attacked outside of camp became known. Before either of you knew who Grover was.

Having been forced to be friends since your parents were. Both of your moms would have wine nights weekly. Every Saturday from 5:00-9:00 to be exact. While they were giggling to each other about Brad Pitt, you and Percy would sit in each other's rooms doing anything that kept you entertained. One time you both filled up a room with bubbles. Well, that was in your bathroom not your bedroom. Both of your parent’s cooing at the soap in your hair and the bubble beards on your chin.

Once wine night was over he would walk with his mother back to their home. Having lived a block away. Hand in hand with his mom he would look over his shoulder to you. Hair still wet as he gave you a wave goodbye. Which you returned, sad he had to go but excited for the next weekend already.

Once a couple of years have passed, you grew old enough to go to Percy’s place without your mom's supervision. Her only request to ignore any one who talked to you. Including the man you looked like Santa except shirt-less.

She did not like hearing that knock off Santa was talking to you when you did inform her…. Yeah, she didn’t let you out of the house that week. Once she did give you the permission, your walks to Percy’s never included seeing or talking to shirtless Santa again.

You met Grover when the both of you were in school. That’s when you found out the reason your father wasn’t present because he was a god….

Now you tell someone that and see how they react. You called bs denying, denying, turning your head in the other direction. It wasn’t until your mother told you it was true that you started to believe. What really was the icing on the cake was a fuLL ON BULL/DEVIL TRYING TO KILL YOU-

It was an emotional departure from your mother and Percy’s. But, it was for the best. They were more in danger with both of you around and you being in a monster free zone that they couldn’t enter….the answer was pretty clear.

From there on the two of you met other, as you know now, demigods. As well as Chiron. You fainted when you saw him in his centar form for the first time.

Over the course of the following years yours and Percy’s bond was pretty much the same if not it grew. However, you came to wish to see him more than a friend. But you couldn’t ruin what you already had. The two of you were inseparable. Always asking where the other was when not together. Checking up on each other. Of course there were arguments, but you learned to look past then. Always coming to a compromise. Making sure to never bring up the known tension between the two of you.

And all those actions still somehow lead you here. Percy pinning you down, sand from the beach making its way into your hair. Him staring at you with stars in his eyes, a smile adorning his face. A breathy laugh passed through his lips as he leaned in closer. Millimeters away from you. A little play fight being the influence for how you ended up.

You turned your head to the side, looking out to the open water. You heard Percy sigh, placing his forehead in the sand above your shoulder.

“Gods, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbled next to your ear. You turned back to look at him, however he plopped down onto the ground beside you. Accidentally pulling up some sand and getting it in your eye. You turned onto your side to face him. Taking a finger you wiped away the pesky rocks from your vision.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you stated, peering down at him. He chuckled sarcastically.

“Yeah, sure.” Silence passed over the both of you. Before Percy decided to prop himself up onto his elbows. “I’m gonna talk about it-” he was cut off by your groan. It was your turn to lay onto your back.

“Please don’t,” you murmured to him.

“You can’t keep doing me like this, Y/n,” Percy stated, looking at you. Your hands covered your face. “I know you think it’ll ruin everything-”

“I know it’s going to ruin everything, Percy,” your voice muffled. “We have such a good thing going now. What if it doesn’t go the way you think it will and we want to not be together. Things won’t be the same after that.” “Y/n, you and I both know I want you,” Percy's voice was soft but stern. He sat up fully, taking your hands away from your face. “You wanna know when I realized?” You waited for him to continue. Fidgeting with his fingers that still held yours, looking away. “When your dad’s sign showed up above your head. Your smile was so bright; you were so excited that Apollo was your dad. Honestly I’m pretty sure you were actually more excited to get out of the Hermes cabin than anything.” You let out a laugh, looking up at him.

“It frickin stunk in there,” you defended. It was his turn to chuckle. He pulled on your hands signaling you to sit up. You did, staring into his eyes, pondering your next move.

“That was when I just knew,” Percy continued, “You were the one I want. We’ve been through hell and back, Y/n. Doesn’t that at least tell you something? I know you feel the same way so why can’t you just give in? What’s the worst that can happen?” you opened your mouth, he cut you off, answering for you, “It doesn’t work out. Okay, sure maybe that’s a possibility but we’ve been through worse. If it doesn’t work out we’ll just continue what we’re doing now, have a laugh about it, whatever. Just give it a shot, Y/n. After everything we've been through, you can at least give me that.”

You gazed into his eyes. Showing the wanting and eagerness in them. You bit your lip, fighting a mental battle in your head.

“If this doesn’t work out you owe me a hundred bucks.” His face lit up.

“And what happens if it does?” he asked. You pondered the question.

“We’ll see, Jackson,” you remarked. The smile on his face continued to grow as he came closer.

“This means I can kiss you now and you won’t dodge me, right?” he questioned.

As his lips grew closer to yours , you smiled lightly.

“We’ll see, Jackson,” you stated again in a whisper. Without a second to lose his mouth flew to yours. You cupped his face as he once again took his place above you. A hand on your waist while the other held him up.

He was right, you would just have to see where the road ahead takes you. In the end he would be next to you every step of the way.

---------

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

#percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson fanfic

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evillemons · 9 days

Text

SEOKJIN’S IDEAL TYPE (Jin pt. 1)

~ a manifestation of his ideal girlfriend. Continuation into part 2 and part 3. Masterlist here.

Key words: Soft-spoken, nurturing, feminine, traditional, introverted.

Her personality:

• Out of the members, the type of person that Jin would date seems to have the most consensus among the fandom.

• I think we can all agree that Jin wants the traditional housewife type.

• Someone who can take care of him and support him.

• Kind, soft-spoken, nurturing, and somewhat submissive.

• She would be mature and motherly, but not in a prudent or matronly way.

• Probably not particularly ambitious in terms of her career, but may hold an associate’s degree in marketing or education. I could also see her as a midwife or nurse if she chose to work.

• A homebody type. Is content spending time alone, but might enjoy the occasional wine night with one or two close girlfriends.

• A generally pleasant and optimistic person that loves to please and make other people happy.

• She and her house are always neat and tidy. She always comes across as well put together and organized.

• Would enjoy gardening and reading in her free time. She might have a little vegetable or herb garden in her backyard.

• She also needs to love jokes and indulge Jin with his dry sense of humor…

• She might even joke back with him, leading them both to laughing tears.

• MBTI: ISFJ. A good homemaker and caretaker who wants to make sure that everyone feels happy and loved. Is very introverted, but cares deeply for the people close to her.

Her looks and sexuality:

• Feminine, but not in a cutesy way, maybe a little more womanly.

• Generally petite but with slight curves.

• She might have one “well endowed” feature, such as wide hips, that she is insecure about (that Jin actually loves).

• Shorter and younger (possibly by 5 years even). He needs to feel as though he can fulfill his traditional masculine role.

• I don’t even need to say that she must be Korean. A woman with the same traditions and customs he is used to.

• Probably doesn’t fit Korean beauty standards in the way Jimin’s girlfriend does, but very pretty and kind-looking nonetheless.

• Her style is classic, relaxed, and modest; not particularly fashionable or eccentric.

• She definitely would not dare to get a tattoo. She probably wears some dainty, dangly earrings in her first lobe piercing, but no piercings other than that.

• Neutral, light colored clothing (beiges and whites) and keeps her hair her natural deep black-brown.

• She might also be relatively pale due to her lack of sun exposure.

• As for sexuality, she is straight as a pin, no doubt.

*side note: I would really love to see him surprise us all one day and reveal that he is dating someone we completely don’t expect, like a foreign woman. It would be shocking, but in an amazing way (or even more so, a man. He did say his celebrity crush is Brad Pitt).

#bts #bts jin #kim seokjin #jin x oc #jin ideal type #jin x reader #seokjin x oc #seokjin x reader #seokjin ideal type #jin imagine #jin #bts headcanons #jin headcanons

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frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

I Think I Met You In My Dreams Once - Bucky Barnes - Nine

Summary: After receiving an honourable discharge from his military service that was caused by the loss of his arm, James Barnes begins to come to terms with several things. He also finds solace in youtube videos, memes and on social media, where he happens to find you.

Pairing: Ex-Military!Bucky Barnes x Fem! Plus Size!Reader (Modern AU)

Chapter Warnings: angst, fluff, swear words, family drama, drama at stark industries, i think i fell in love with bucky a whole lot bit more, long update, also please read the author's note at the end💖

Word Count: 8.8k Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Fic Masterlist || Main Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Playlist

Chapter Eight || Chapter Ten

You laugh excited as Bucky shows you a binder. With almost ten sub-categories.

“You laugh now, but just wait till I get into the details of each phase.” Bucky shakes his head running his fingers over the tabs.

“Honestly this feels like an Oceans Eleven meeting.” You chuckle, “Ooh, maybe we should watch it for inspiration.” You offer.

“So I can watch you stare at Brad Pitt?” Bucky grumbles.

“Bucky, I don’t care about him, I watch it for the plot.” You shrug, the mental image of George Clooney pops up in your head when you try to recall the said plot.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as you dip your head a telltale sign of your blush.

“We should watch Oceans Eight.” He says, attempting to be cheeky.

“So we both can stare at Sandra Bullock, Rihanna and Anne Hathaway? Yes please.” You grin at him.

“Know what? Let’s do that Ocean’s marathon.” Bucky agrees.

“For the plot.” You add.

“For the plot.” He agrees.

You turn your eyes to the two highlighter options.

“I see, you have a thing for morally grey people.” He calls you out.

“I’m currently onto being into Ex-Military men.” You tease.

“I am morally grey though, I even have a white fluffy cat as my villainous proof.” He turns the phone stand towards Alpine and you coo at her, she looks at you mid-lick to her paw.

Her meow makes you grin and give her a flying kiss. For a second she stares at you as if to reciprocate but she returns to her more important task at hand or rather paw.

“I don’t think you give off the evil mastermind vibe, Mr. Barnes.” You smile at him.

“The name’s Barnes, James Barnes.” Bucky says in a British accent and for five seconds your brain turns to mush because his voice is deep and in that baritone plus you’re a sucker for British accents.

“S-say that in your normal voice.” You request.

He repeats the sentence. You feel the need to fan yourself.

Bucky smirks, “Cat caught your tongue, Doll or have I?”

“James.” You all but whimper and plead.

“Not now, you have a dinner party to go to don’t you?” He gives a smug grin.

“I’d much rather stay with you.” You pout, getting back to doing your make up. It was ten in the morning for Bucky on a Sunday and you were getting ready for the quote unquote intimate business dinner being hosted by the Beck Family.

Your dad was excited you weren’t, but Bucky was joking around telling you about an elaborate plan to take down the people who stole from Tony and you felt good, being distracted.

Bucky was making more and more time, you wanted to talk to him about it. Sacrificing his sleep, sending you more messages and staying on longer on calls.

Something had shifted for him in the past five days and you couldn’t understand what it could be, because asking him directly would allow him to deflect which he has in the past when stress got to him.

“Are you going to wear that lip colour I adore?” He questions, you smile slipping out of your thoughts.

“I planned my outfit around it.” You grin as he rewards you with the Only For My Doll smile, you pause your actions. Admiring the way there are crinkles by his eyes and the blue in them shines brighter.

The way his pink lips carry his happiness and his dimples make a hidden appearance underneath his four o’clock shadow.

“That’s my girl.” He praises and admires the warmth he causes to your skin, he knows because your head dips slightly and you bite on your bottom lip to hide your smile.

“Are you going to show me the outfit or will I wait for the pictures?” He questions as you finish applying the lipstick.

When you gaze at him his eyes are on your lips. Bucky’s tongue moves across his bottom lip as the hunger grows in his darkening gaze.

“I’m going to ruin this lipstick one day, and keep asking you to re-apply and ruin it again and again and again.” He promises as his words send a thrum of need to your core.

You swallow, looking into his eyes.

“I think I want you to ruin more than just my lipstick for me.” You admit, heart beating faster.

Bucky groans at your words, they go straight to his hardening length.

“Doll, don’t tempt me to delay you.” He says in warning, inhaling deeply.

“What if I want you to delay—,”

Incessant knocking at your door interrupts the moment. Bucky straightens up as you grumble going to the door to unlock it.

Your mom gives you a bright smile, then peeks inside and waves at Bucky. He waves back with a grin.

“The call better be off when you change.” She gives him a warning glare and you facepalm. He begins to cough after his eyes widen in surprise.

“Mom.” You groan.

“What? I’m your mother. I kept you in my womb for more than nine months because you didn’t want to come out sooner, I know what goes on in your head before you do.” She pulls your cheek and you groan again.

Bucky finally calms down after drinking water, “I, I no, I wouldn’t—,”

He keeps quiet when she gives him a look.

“I know your generation well enough.” She says, “I’m a modern mother.”

“Mum. What, did you have some work?” You remind her before she turns Bucky into a puddle of embarrassment and due to the topic of the conversation.

“Ah yes, we need to leave soon, so chop, chop, also here are the earrings I’d like you to wear.” She hands you a small velvet box.

“Are these new?” You eye the box with scepticism, opening it you find the sweetest most adorable pair of earrings. They're set in gold, a thin filament forming a flower petal’s outlines with four pearls at the centre surrounding a diamond each. The perfect balance between statement and simple.

“These are beautiful mum, I love them, when when did you get it?” You look up at her and she points behind you.

You turn and Bucky is grinning wide.

“When did you even manage?” you look bewildered between the two.

“Well when the dinner party was announced I sort of wanted to be there with you in some way other than texting you.” Bucky explains, then gazes at your mom.

“He called me and wanted to know what are you wearing, and if you have accessories, then we made a day out of it visiting the stores and sending each other links.”

“Wait is why you were out and you were busy yesterday?” You shake your head, heart warming at the bond he forged with your mom and your mom bonding with Bucky.

“Yes.” They both grin.

“I love it. Thank you.” You hug your mom and she grins at Bucky, she smiles back at her.

When she pulls away from the hug she reminds you to get ready quickly, then rolls her eyes as your dad begins to call her because he can’t find the shirt she set out for him on the bed.

Closing the door you rush to Bucky,

“Thank you so much, I really, really love them!” You gush, softly tracing your fingertips over the delicate design.

“The pearls are real but the diamonds aren’t, I’m sorry about that—,”

“Bucky, I don’t care about the realness of the diamond, I care about the fact that you took the time to spend time with mum and you planned this!” You gush over him again and he just adores you.

“Now come on put on your outfit and call me back to wear the earrings.” He grins at you as you nod, smiling as you blow him a kiss before ending the call.

Bucky feels the air leave his being when he answers the video call. You stand a few feet away from the screen so he can see the dress that falls just below your knees, it has a small sash and a collar. His chest tightens with emotion as he spots the chain of his dog tags. You didn’t take them off.

You do a little twirl for him and the skirt of the dress flows around you, making you giggle. The blue brings out the brightness in your eyes and the flowers on the dress match perfectly with the earrings your mom and he picked out for you.

“I’m one lucky man. The only lucky man because, fuck, look at my girl.” He beams brightly as you smoothen the skirt before sitting down on the chair to wear the earrings.

“So goddamn lucky.” He says again, as he breathes.

“Bucky…” you preen under the compliments.

“Twirl again.” He says and you do this time the slit at the side parts every so slightly and he bites his lip at the peek-a-boo moment of the soft skin of your tights.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, doll. Every inch, every bit, just want to drown in you for days. Don’t even need air just need you.” He says, your skin heats at his words and thighs clench at the prospect.

“Its true.” He admits, “I can’t wait to show you off. Hell, you know what?” He grabs a camera from his desk drawer, its a disposable film camera and he also has an instant one lined up.

“Bucky what are you up to?” You question and he clicks his tongue.

“Just smile for me, Doll.” He requests and you do, he sets the disposable film camera aside, picking up the instant one he hums before rummaging for electrical tape to cover the flash.

“Smile again for me.” He asks again and you want to laugh at the eagerness in his voice.

“Okay,” you shift a little, making sure the angle is alright.

Alights the camera, the benefit of the model was that it had a digital screen to help him know if all the settings and subjects were okay.

He lines it up with his phone screen, you smile for him, he takes one sets it to print and then you rest your chin on your palm and he has to take another one.

He sets the camera back down grinning up at you, happy with the pictures being taken.

“Should I expect being your model more often?” You question, adoring the attention.

“Oh, Doll this much much much lesser than the doting over from me you deserve and will receive soon enough.“

He watches you smile at his words, he hadn’t told you about the email, the pictures. He knew it was from Beck. Some type of game to throw a wrench in your happiness.

He showed the images to Natasha, Steve and Sam. All of them were ready to throw hands at Beck, fly down with Bucky to beat the shit out of the asshole. Somehow Bucky managed to calm them down while he remained seething.

He knew, you knew he was behaving different, more attentive, more active during your waking hours, he knew you saw the bags under his eyes. Bucky also knew the questioning was on the tip of your tongue. He’d lie and say it is work related stress. Even though it was Beck and everything else. So maybe stress isn’t a complete lie.

He did have a bad habit of shutting down when stressed out, it happened earlier and you had caught on, there wasn’t a fight but he understood that you needed communication. Even if it was to let you know he needed his own time to process things.

Rougher knocking on your door indicates your father’s presence. You stare at Bucky gathering strength from his presence and open the door.

“Are you ready?” Your father questions still wearing his home clothes.

“Yes.” You answer clipped looking at his clothing then his face.

“Alright, don’t waste time with,” He searches for a word, passive aggressive no doubt.

“James, Dad’s here.” You call out, moving away from the door so they can see each other.

“Hello Mr. Y/L/N, how are you?” Bucky gives him a wide smile.

Your dad bites the inside of his cheek, “Hello.” He moves towards his bedroom.

“Tough crowd.” Bucky chuckles, guilt pools in your abdomen.

“Doll.” He tries to control his temper as you try to switch from your guilt to happy again.

“I told you his behaviour is not yours to take blame for.” He reminds again.

“I know, I just… He’s done so much shit, I’m not even doing anything wrong by being in love with you. Why does he have to insult the one person in my life I love?” You sigh, Bucky’s lip quirks into a sad smile.

“Listen, he’s just protective as a dad okay? His other aspects yes as a human being he’s a crappy one. Lousy even.” Bucky wishes he could just pull you close, hide you away.

You nod, he watches as you fidget with the hem of your dress.

Then you flinch and he worries.

“He’s creating a ruckus, I’ll message you. I’m sorry, I love you.” You quickly grab the phone.

“Go, it’s okay, I love you.” He says before the line drops.

He sits back in the chair, staring at the binder again. Then he checks the instant camera pictures, grinning at the one of you with your chin resting on your palm. He takes his phone, snapping a picture and uploading it to his feed.

@.bbarnes has tagged you in a new upload.

Tapping on the notification your heart warms, it is the polaroid he took of you. What has your eyes glaze with tears is the caption.

you’re one in a billion, and i’m the luckiest to be able call you mine @.watchingthemoonlight 💕🌸

you type out a reply, smiling to yourself.

a billion people, and i found you, not letting you go, forever holding onto you @b.barnes 💕🌻

Reaching the venue was a quiet journey, eased by old music your dad preferred as he drove. The silence was uncharacteristic and yet welcomed.

As your doors are opened by the valets and security you phone buzzes again.

Nat:

I’m at the dinner thing too, apparently mom got invited and so did dad. Yelena may come in.

You:

Great, we’re just handing the car off to the valet, I’ll see you inside.

Natasha’s mother took her portion of the divorce settlement and grew a brilliant business for herself. Yet her mother remained one of the most down to earth people. It used to be fun watching her respectfully annihilate anyone who was unsuspecting of who she was while attempting to belittle her.

Your dad offers his hand to your mother the minute they touch the first step. You internally groan. He’d be doting husband and father mode all for show.

You leave a message for Bucky that you’ve reached and silently ask his contact image to give you the strength you need.

As the doors open to the banquet hall, you’re greeted with the scent of florals and amber. No doubt Quentin’s mother’s choosing. On cue the Mr and Mrs Beck appear shaking hands and giving a kiss to the cheek as society norms require at events.

Then they turn to you, you want to scoff at her frown which she hides giving you a once over.

“Oh, Y/N, you’ve gotten so, big.”

The only thing big here is your ego. You want to say but you put on a smile.

“Yes it’s been years since we saw each other, you’ve aged,” you take a pause and your father’s ears steam, “gracefully.” You give her a fake smile.

Mrs. Beck gives a tight-lipped smile in return, “Yes, I happen to take care of myself.”

“Whose your botox person?” You all turn to Natasha Romanoff, sipping on her champagne, waiting for an answer. You look at her outfit and grin at her, the deep maroon long gown, looking beautiful on her.

“I don’t—,” Mrs. Beck stutters.

“No? I swear I saw wrinkles last time I was in the US. Hmm, must be someone else.” She shrugs.

“Natalia.” Her mother chastises, smiling at the hostess, “I think you look wonderful.”

“Yes, is that vintage Cartier?” You mother adds, easily distracting the woman from her seething.

Mrs. Beck enjoys showing off her wealth more than talking someone down.

Mr. Beck draws your father away and you finally breathe.

“Tough evening?” Nat questions, handing you a flute of champagne as well.

You nod, she admires the earrings as they glimmer.

“Bucky and mum went shopping.” You tell her excited again at the prospect.

“I’m so happy for you, also the man has got an eye for what will look good on you.” She praises and you blush.

“Look at you, in love. Did he want to rip the dress off?” She keeps at her teasing tone.

You lightly shove her hand, trying to cool down your heated cheeks.

She snickers in response, then her gaze hardens.

“Little Princess.”

You turn to greet Quentin, his hair is slicked back. Wearing a charcoal shade suit he gives a beaming grin to you.

“Hey.” You say, waving at him as he walks closer.

“Natasha, hey.” He greets, she nods in response with a smile, then sips her drink.

“Did you meet the parents? Mum had to stay at the hotel you know allergies and things.” He reasons for her absence from the mandatory three night stay that occurs at your place by your dad inviting them.

“Yeah we met her, she commented on her physical aspects again.” Nat glowers, you sigh.

“Oh well you know how she is…” Quentin rubs the back of his neck, “You look gorgeous though.” He adds as an afterthought.

“Thanks. So what is the dinner for?” You question.

Quentin smiles, “We expanding into healthcare rehabilitation devices, finalised a factory space to mass produce the devices, so this is a little mingling to get the word out.”

“What are you manufacturing?” You question, intrigued with an odd feeling in your chest.

Quentin smiles, his index finger lightly presses on your nose, “Aren’t you a curious little cat?” He has a smile on his face but his tone is dismissive.

“Fine, be in your little secret bubble.” You sigh feigned rueful, Natasha watches the exchange with curiosity.

“Oh come on, let this event get done and I’ll tell you.” Quentin promises and you smile at him.

He grins, stroking your cheek and you try not to grimace.

“Quentin!” His father calls and he moves away with a beaming smile as per usual.

“Spill.” Your best friend requests and you tell her about the little seed of doubt in you head.

“Okay, I see, fishy indeed. Recon mission.” Natasha announces.

“We’re women anyways men talk business as if we’re dumb.” She lays out the plan to stand near the men tonight and eavesdrop.

“You up for it?” She questions once she explains where to start from and how to exit the conversation.

“In the immortal words of Debbie Ocean, ‘Somewhere out there is an eight-year-old girl lying in bed, dreaming of being a criminal. Let's do this for her.’ And to help my boyfriend.” You grin at an excited Natasha.

“I love this colour on you.” She commends as you both part ways to your respective groups of men, you head over to where a few old business partners of your dad stand talking.

Bucky stares at the binder again, opening up the first block. “Here goes nothing.” He murmurs opening his laptop to send the email.

PHASE ONE: Get Dumbass To Inform his Dumbass Boss about the ‘fuck up’

From: James Barnes

To: Brock Rumlow

CC: Peter Parker

Subject: URGENT

Hey,

I just received an email from Tony. We need to meet up to talk, Cafe Coffee Pot, Brooklyn 12:00 Hrs.

- Barnes

From: Brock Rumlow

To: James Barnes

CC: Peter Parker

Re: URGENT

Hey,

Will be there.

- Rumlow

From: Peter Parker

To: James Barnes

CC: Brock Rumlow

Re: URGENT

Hey,

I got the email too, its good you set this up. We need to meet today without fail.

Regards,

Peter

Bucky grins as he reads the responses, Peter adding the frantic detail was the cherry on top. He moves onto a private messaging app that Tony had built for his only trusted team.

Barnes: Email sent, meeting @ 12 pm

TS: good work

PParker:😁

Time flew by and Bucky makes his way to the cafe securing a corner booth. Peter waited near the counter nursing his chocolate chip muffin. When Brock enters he scans the area, eyes landing on Bucky and he makes his way to the booth, Peter joins them after Brock settles into the opposite seat.

“What was in the email?” Brock questions, Peter turns his phone to show him.

From: Tony Stark

To: James Barnes, Peter Parker, Sharon Carter, +more…

Subject: Intimation of New Protocol

Dear Team,

As you know we are close to the trial’s first phase ending, it gives me immense pleasure to have worked with you all and I am so thankful for your dedication. After speaking with Shuri, we have come to the conclusion of rechecking all the internal wiring of the mounting lates and circuits of the bionic devices.

Please inform the participants to be present tomorrow so that I may recheck the wirings personally.

Thanks and Regards,

Tony Stark

“What is the problem? You guys fixed the plate and shit without him knowing.” Brock looks between the two and Peter gnaws on his bottom lip and his leg bounces with anxiety.

“Well, when we, we, god, can you explain I think I will faint.” Peter fans himself drinking water.

“Shit, Parker, get a hold of yourself kid.” Bucky places a hand on his shoulder, he looks back at Brock. Peter begins to breathe in short quick breaths.

“Remember we had to rewire because it wasn’t working?” Bucky swallows, allowing his nervousness to show, Brock’s eyes widen at him being worried. The usual stoic demeanour was gone.

“Is it not the same?” Brock questions, equally worried himself, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He mutters.

“I don’t know okay? We were only coders and like trackers for progress, shit that means all of your data is wrong too.” Bucky presses his forehead into the palm of his hand.

“Oh god.” Rumlow runs his hands over his face, sweat pooling at the back of his neck.

“Also the wiring before that was also hampered.” Peter adds quietly.

“What?!” Bucky yells and Peter winces, Brock is sweating bullets now.

“How?” Brock questions, “Look man there is a fifty thousand fine to ruin the thing if it’s my fault, can you fix it?”

“Well the plate wouldn’t fit so I had to resize it, in that I sort of short circuited and the small fuse was under the main wiring…” Peter trails off.

“You put the wires in random… So he never had the correct wiring.”

“But I can use it!” Brock defends, putting a show of grabbing Peter’s bottle and placing it back down.

“Yeah but you plate fell, you’ve said the arm freezes on you.” Bucky lists other things Brock has reported.

Suddenly the bionic arm jolts, knocking down the bottle.

The three stare at each other.

“Do we have a way out?” Brock questions, desperate for some good news.

“I did have an idea…” Bucky looks between the two before launching into his plan of action.

One hour later they enter the Stark Industries building without any extra attention drawn. Bucky had messaged Tony stating John had jury duty hence could only come in today.

Peter would distract Tony with an important phone call and then Bucky would dismantle the entire device thinking that is what Tony wanted him to do on his behalf.

It would warrant a fake fight or being told off by Tony but they needed to make it legitimate as possible. Bucky gazed at your picture on his lock-screen, notifications from you remained unread, garnering the strength from your smile and love he treads forward.

“Alrighty, can’t miss Jury Duty for Mr. Stark.” Tony grumbles and Peter tries not to appear on edge.

Brock gives a little laugh, “Yeah well, I couldn’t get out of it so…”

Tony begins to undo the system, the arm disconnects from the mounting plate near the elbow. Carefully he sets it on the stand. As he disconnects the mounting plate, Brock looks at Bucky and Bucky looks at Peter who springs into action.

“Mr. Stark, there is an urgent call.” Peter stumbles close, phone outstretched.

“Who is it?” Tony grumbles, undoing the covering panel.

“Morgan.” Peter holds his breath and Tony looks up.

“Is she okay? Put her on speaker.” He instructs pointing at the table to place the phone.

Peter winces but complies,

“Hey Maguna—,”

“No, I want to talk to you.” She grumbles.

“Sweetheart, Daddy’s at work—,”

“Alone.” She sniffles and Tony grabs the phone gesturing to Bucky then pointing at the mounting plate.

“I’m here baby, tell me.” Tony coos into the phone heading off to the break room.

“Faster.” Brock urges keeping an eye out with Peter at the break room door.

Bucky moves quickly as planned and Tony returns, resuming his work then pauses.

“Barnes?” Tony’s voice is devoid of the usual sass.

“Um I dismantled…. Is that not what you pointed at?” Bucky scratches his chin.

“I told you to keep an eye not ruin my hard work. Fuck, Barnes this was supposed to be a three minute job and now it’s fucking going to take me an hour.” Tony seethes but gets to work.

“I’m sorry—,”

“Save it. Go get the system ready to re-code.” Tony all but roars and Bucky sprints to the elevators, to retrieve his work laptop.

The floor is empty and he walks to his desk when his phone rings, your name flashing. He answers the phone, it’s ten thirty at night for you.

“Bucky where are you?” You question, the frantic tone of your voice has him on edge.

“Doll, whats wrong?”

“Where are you?” You question again.

“I’m at work, had to come in for some work… Are you okay?” He questions, there is shuffling around.

“Keep the line on. I, fuck, Bucky.” You say, and more shuffling, his brows furrow with worry.

Recon was going slow, no one had any clue. Becks had kept their new project under wraps and Nat was more disheartened to only find out that men were just as gossip-y as they blamed women to be.

You both met back after an hour near the tables, dinner was beginning soon and as luck would have it, all the older children of the business men and women were placed together, at the same table.

“Will try ever stop trying to get people to marry for business?” You mutter, settling onto your designated chair, Nat nods then rolls her eyes.

“They do it because they want the children to think they have some control over their life choice, it’s actually a business decision.” She says a sour expression on her face, mouth twisted to the side.

“I agree.” Samrez Khan, the son of Khan Corp’s CEO sits from across the two of you, there are still seats waiting to be filled. He runs his hand through his messy brown hair.

“So are you here to make a business decision?” You question, making him laugh.

“God no, I don’t need to join forces with another rich family and have anyone be miserable with me out of an obligation to their parents.” He huffs, you nod your head impressed by his outlook.

“Wrong table then Khan.” Natasha adds with a smile. Oh right, they met in the US you recall.

“Natalia.” He smiles, “Long time no see.”

“I wonder why.” She scrunches her face, then clicks her tongue, dismissing the conversation.

“Hey, everyone.” Sasha settles in next to you, offering a half hug, you reciprocate, she was the tolerable Khan sibling.

“How are you?” You question, she beams excited, holding up her left hand.

“Oh my god!” You squeal, ever since knowing Sasha you knew her goal was to marry her high school boyfriend.

“Tell me everything.” You ask and Samrez groans,

“Sash.” He warns, not wanting to hear his sisters proposal for the thousandth time.

“Actually say it, Beck is on his way and your proposal is less taxing than his existence.” He murmurs, motioning with his hand to get her to begin. Natasha snorts and he shoots her a grin.

Sasha glares at him but the minute Beck opens his mouth she starts into the story, to her credit she talks the table’s ear off for two courses over her proposal.

“Wow.” Beck’s eyebrows are raised and he inhales deeply.

“Gets me every time,” Samrez wipes a non-existent tear from his cheek.

“Very emotional.” Natasha adds, rolling her eyes at him, she excuses herself from the table.

“Anyone else have any news?” Sasha questions, “Come on we kids haven’t gathered in a while, I need updates, we all know Beck has his whole prosthetics line with the American tie-up coming up. Y/N, what is going on in your life?” She questions and before you can dwell on her slip up.

“Actually she has a boyfriend.” Quentin opens the conversation for you.

“Oh my god, who is he? Is it Quentin? Ohh, you both are so cute.” Sasha gushes as does another random person who you aren’t familiar with on a deeper level.

“Oh no it isn’t Quentin, his name is James, lives in NYC.” You answer, your fingers automatically brushing along your dress' collar to feel Bucky’s dog-tags to ease the nervousness pooling in your stomach.

“What does he do? Does he have a start up? Is he flying in and out for you?” She presses and Quentin snorts.

“Its a LDR, poor thing hasn’t even held hands or gotten kissed by the guy and she dotes after him.” He laughs.

“Thats okay—,” She tries to defend you.

“He’s a low level coder. Imagine ex military and an amputee.” Quentin scoffs.

“At least he has the balls to be honest with me unlike a two timing bastard who had the gall to brush off his red handed caught cheating.” You seethe, Natasha and Bucky knew what Beck had done years ago. Your parents got the more non detailed version.

“Y/N.” Quentin’s gaze hardens and his tone turns stern.

“Shove it. I expected you’d be respectful but you’re still shitty.” You place your napkin on the table.

“James may have had to undergo an amputation due to his circumstances, he’s much more of a man and human being than a hundred percent of all men here. No offence Samrez I don’t know you well enough to exclude you.” You turn to him, he shakes his head.

“You’re right we’re all trash. James sounds nice, give him my best.” Samrez adds, you smile at him.

“Now, excuse me.” You push away from the table and head for the washrooms.

Checking the time you see that it is close to ten, this night would drone on and on, your dad would make sure since it’s his circle of people who are hosting.

You shake your head trying to clear it from the bullshit Quentin thought he could just spew without consequences. If he thinks you’re going to be friends with him again. He and his inflated ego are sorely mistaken.

After walking aimlessly you do realise you aren’t headed towards the bathrooms, glass windows line the upcoming area and you spot Quentin’s dad speaking with someone on a laptop. The conference room has blinds on several of the glass panels and some are free. You stand behind the blind covered panel. Which is nearer to the door that you can hear them.

“…..Hammer, Hammer, just get the redone wirings, the stupid employees want to save their asses and are indirectly helping us.”

Your brows furrow, where had you heard the name Hammer before?

“Listen, Beck, it ain't easy we’ll have to change the entire patent that will take time.” Hammer explains.

“Listen the moulds will arrive here on Thursday. So in two days we start the production, the outer casing will be ready and we can sell.” Mr. Beck shrugs.

Something in your brain clicks the pieces into place, you start filming them from your hidden position.

“Are you understanding the mechanics—,”

“Look patents can be bought off, I have a contact, Stark won’t be able to contest, all that money and he wants to get the patent in the normal way. Doesn’t know the B of business. My son Quentin will get it done.” Mr. Beck cuts off Justin Hammer again.

“Fine. Get to manufacturing and I’ll have Rumlow come in tomorrow with the actual wiring and start production on that here.” Justin agrees.

“Exactly and once that is done assembly here and I’ll have it shipped back to New York. Show case it and sell to the highest bidder, but keep production under us at rates higher but falsify the other manufacturer rates. So they have to choose us.” Mr. Beck cackles and your skin prickles at the sound.

“Perfect, I’ll call Thursday, when the moulds come in.” Justin chuckles and buds goodbye.

You hear the shift of a chair and as quickly as possible try to slip away, you’re almost near the turn for the bathrooms.

“Y/N?” Mr. Beck’s voice has you turn, you swallow.

“Mr. Beck? What are you doing here?” You keep your voice even.

“I should ask you that, the dinner is the other way. This side is a private business centre.” He explains.

“Oh I thought as much that I have walked the wrong way, I was searching for the washrooms but almost ten feet further I realised it’s better to turn.” You chuckle lightly.

His eyes move over you as he contemplates your words.

“You know, you should really listen to your father.” He says and you raise you brow at him.

“Um?”

“About your boyfriend, James. You need someone to take after your dad, someone qualified.”

“Someone like your son?” You sneer.

“Well, Quentin does think highly of you.” He shrugs.

“I don’t think his mother would like it if I were her daughter in law.” You try to stay respectful.

“Her opinion doesn’t matter, as for the cosmetic appeal I’m sure we have a budget. Think about it, Quentin has, I’m sure your dad will be able to get through to you.” He pats your shoulder as he moves away.

You rush through the corridor finally finding the washroom, you lock the main entrance, checking for anyone in the bathroom, its empty.

You breathe finally, leaning against the counter for support. So much information crashing onto you. Right from the stupid matchmaking for his own business to Hammer Tech and Mr. Beck having some deal. The prosthetics. You needed to speak to Sasha for more information.

Your phone weighs heavy in your hands. Unlocking it you find Bucky’s contact.

When he picks up, you don’t give him a chance to greet you,

“Bucky where are you?” You question, the franticness and nerves lacing your voice.

“Doll, what is wrong?” He sounds extremely worried.

“Where are you?” You question again shit if he’s around Brock of anyone else you can’t speak.

“I’m at work, had to come in for some work… Are you okay?” He questions, uou shuffle around blocking the wash basin drains with the small soap bars. Then turn on the faucets. You needed to cover your voice.

“Keep the line on. I, fuck, Bucky.” You want to cry, he can almost hear it in your voice.

“Doll, is everything okay? Why is there water rushing?” He questions, voice on edge.

“You need to come down here or you need to tell Mr. Stark about what I’m about to tell you.” You bite your lip as he processes your words.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He questions, worry clawing at his chest.

“Physically yes, emotionally the jury’s out.” You try to joke, he shakes his head.

“Tell me everything.” Bucky requests, sitting down in his chair, connecting the bluetooth so he could text Peter that he got an emergency call from you.

“Beck and Hammer might be hand in hand, I have video proof that Rumlow is working for them. They are going to steal the patented work of the internal? Something? Thursday, they are getting moulds on Thursday and are producing here, they want to sell the tech and patent. They are in cahoots.” You jumble out hoping he understands.

“Beck and Hammer are in cahoots?” He repeats.

“Yes, look I’ll send you the video as well but I think we need to catch them all at the same time.” You advise.

“You aren’t doing anything.” He warns.

“Bucky—,”

“No. I, let me talk to Tony, will you be awake? Wait, what am I saying of course you will.” He shakes his head and hears your chuckle.

“I, Bucky, I love you.” You say.

“I love you, did something else happen?” He questions.

You sigh, closing your eyes as the tears brim.

“Mr. Beck caught me halfway back and I got out of it but…. He basically said dad and he are well planning….” You can’t get the words out not without choking up.

“Doll…” Bucky holds his breath, what was life throwing at him now?

“He basically wants well hopes I chose to marry Quentin. I won’t let it happen, I’ll say no, I’ll run aw-away, B-Bucky, just,” You sniffle, holding the phone tightly to your ear the sob breaks through.

He stays stunned silent.

“B-Bucky?” You ask when you don’t hear him.

“Why?” He sounds distant, as if slipping away.

“The whole business, t-thing he wants someone who, who will take after him. An heir as if I am not capable had he given me the chan-chance.” You explain, wiping the tears rapidly.

“I, Y/N, please tell me this is some elaborate joke.” Bucky pleads.

“I wish, I just.” You break off again trying to not cry harder.

“A marriage of business? Does he not want you happy ever? Is that how selfish he is?” Bucky can’t believe this is how things are, this cannot be what your life would be if he wasn’t there.

“I’ll get you out of there.” He assures, “Clean yourself up, I have to finish phase one stay up for an hour, I’ll be calling you back with Peter and Tony.” He doesn’t want to end the call so soon but his mind is overflowing and he might just drown. He kicks himself for sounding dismissive of you.

It is a silent goodbye as he sets the phone down on the table. He stares ahead for a minute, leaning on his years of compartmentalisation. The priority now was the completion of Phase One then he would speak to Tony and Peter then you. They would need to call Matt again.

His phone buzzes you’ve sent him the video.

Pocketing the phone he grabs the laptop heading back to the elevators.

As the door close with a chime that echos into your sob in his mind.

Bucky allows himself the elevator ride to shed his own tears. If he can’t get to you soon, everything will turn into a messy situation.

You stare at the phone for several seconds. Aching for a response, even a small emoji would do. Dejected you stop the water from the taps, the sink not even filled halfway, wiping your face and fixing the make up you look halfway presentable back to the world of sheer business and money hungry people.

Natasha finds you, mingling is still ongoing. You spot Mr. Beck and your father in conversation laughing and cackling. Your dad pats Quentin on the back and your jaw tightens.

“Are you okay?” Natasha pulls your attention, she looks slightly disheveled herself.

“I am not, Quentin’s dad basically just told me how he and my dad want me married to Quentin. Biggest deal my dad ever orchestrated.” You grimace, Bucky’s stunned silence sears your chest. You feel stupid to have told him.

He already had too much going on.

You were probably being a burden to him.

“What did you say?” She pulls you by your arm to a corner table.

“I said that his wife wouldn’t like it, he basically said cosmetic changes to myself can be done, there would be a budget for it.”

“The fuck!” Nat roars, “How the fuck could they just think that is something to say to you?”

“Appearances matter more to them, Nat. We’ve established that. I am what I weigh but that doesn’t define me but their definition of me is not my job to change or correct.” You fiddle with the sash of the dress.

“I called Bucky… my suspicion was right. However, I, in my verbal vomit I also told him about what Mr. Beck said, I think I fucked up.” You admit quietly, feeling the tendrils of exhaustion and a headache manifesting.

“Look, James is your boyfriend, he’s a pillar for you in the midst of chaos, you are going to tell him all that bothers you and troubles you and so is he. Yes maybe telling him today may have been premature but you can’t control it, you needed to vent. So don’t carry guilt, table the conversation for later.” She advices, patting your arm.

You nod, still not convinced. Dread blooms as you recall the conversation again.

“Y/N? We’re ready to leave.” Your mum walks up to the table. The two of you look up at her.

“What happened?” She questions with one look to your faces.

“Mr. Beck told me dad has some business plans involving me. As a bride.”

Her face contorts into shock, “No. Not happening not on my watch. That woman is not going to be your mother in law. Nor is that weasel going to be your husband.”

Natasha laughs and your shoulders sag with relief.

You hug your mom. She strokes your hair.

“Besides I’d much rather if James and you end up in marriage.”

“Mom, thats too far off. We haven’t even met yet.”

“So? You think couples used to meet? It was one meeting between the parents and then poof get married. Thats how I landed the gem of a man your dad.” She rolls her eyes and you have to stifle a laugh.

“You’re really the coolest mom.” Natasha praises her and your mom strokes her head.

“I know.” Your mom grins, “Now come on, let’s head home.”

Goodbyes are bid and you don’t provide Quentin a single glance. Mr. Beck gives you a knowing look as he shakes your hand. Mrs. Beck looks down her nose at you.

Don’t say anything, Don’t say anything.

You repeat the mantra till your family walks to the elevators and waits for the valet.

“The least you could do is behave with Quentin.” Your dad announces.

“He was insulting me.” You defend.

“Wrong. He was pointing out what is wrong in your choice of boyfriend.” He glares at you from the rearview.

“Bucky is a much better man than Quentin.” You keep a hard glare back at your dad.

“What does that man even have?” Your father hits the steering wheel for emphasis. For once you don’t flinch.

“Integrity, honesty, drive, my respect.” You list, knowing how well it slices through his ego.

“Quentin has all of that.” He dismisses the conversation.

“My respect? When did he get that? After he cheated on me one week into declaring he loves me or after I came home crying to mom and you?” You seethe, how dare he, how dare he forget.

“So what?” He says, “Its not like you were married to him.” He reasons, you keep your mouth shut.

Your mom turns to look at you with sad eyes.

You keep your mouth screwed shut.

You keep it shut till you reach home, standing at your room door as your parents walk to their room down the hall.

“As if marriage stops pathetic men from cheating on their wives and family.” You say voice devoid of emotion, slamming your door shut and locking it.

You can hear his uproar, guilt eats at you that your mother bears the brunt of your outburst but you can’t take it anymore. He needed to know you weren’t the meek little child he could scream at over and over.

Bucky and Peter look at each other, then at Tony who stares at the former’s phone. Matt also remains a silent spectator. The waves of anger and irritation roll off of Tony. Shuri is also present via video conference, no one utter a word.

“Mass produce? Sell the patent? This is to help people. Help make have prosthetics accessible and not something they need to join every penny to afford a better daily life.” Tony’s voice is low, he turns to face Matt.

“Can something be done?”

“I do have an idea to warrant slip ups.” Matt says, “But Peter’s plan may require changes.”

“Do them.” Peter agrees.

“How do you fancy a trip to your girl’s home?” Matt stares at Bucky and he feels his throat dry and heart beat louder.

“Barnes?” Tony raises a brow.

“I had booked tickets, I, if I go there I need to meet her too, I can’t just, Tony you know…” Bucky stares back at his boss.

“Of course, you have full freedom to meet her, spend time with her as you please.” Tony smiles as he finds the earlier drive return into Bucky.

“I’ll go,” Bucky smiles and Peter grins.

“You’re going too Parker.” Tony adds, “Everything sponsored by Stark Industries.”

“Cool!” Peter does a fist pump in the air.

Matt chuckles, “Are you going to tell her or surprise her?”

“I think surprise her.” Bucky says, smiling now, allowing himself to be excited.

When Bucky called that night, all the earlier resolve and worry melted away with just his voice.

He apologised, the entire ordeal causing him to lose focus. You apologised as well for your verbal vomit, and stressing him out, he dismissed it, but then you explained that where you both are each others confidants, asking for the mental capacity to cope with an impactful topic was necessary.

Bucky nodded and a new facet was added, you both would ask before diving into deeper topics of discussion.

“Can I tell you something of heavy weightage?” You inquired with a small smile.

Bucky chuckles, “Go on, I have the mental strength to hear it.”

“Mum approves you for marriage material.” You gaze at him and he turns red, looking away to hide his smile.

Though both of you knew that big word was for a later date if at all things ran smoothly. Even beyond meeting. You stared for a moment at your left hand, considering a moment where Bucky would ever propose.

The fact that you just knew he is the one for you was scary as much as it is a thought that filled your heart and soul with warmth.

Bucky catches your momentary glance to your hand, his heart beats louder and for once he’s grateful for the distance that you can’t heart the crazy rhythm it has adopted. You’re the one for him. He knows it, he breathes easier knowing the fact. But the flip-side he worries, worries deeply how would it go seeing you for the first time.

You both had sorted through the heavy stuff that night, exhaustion lingered at the periphery, slowly pulling you in.

While you slept, Bucky began packing, keeping the video call on and sorting his clothes.

His mum would come by to pick up Alpine, Natasha knew he was arriving.

On Wednesday afternoon, Steve and Sam came along to drop him at the airport and Peter lost his cool when his two favourite gamers stood in front of him.

He took so many pictures and at Bucky’s request promised not to post them till after he met you.

It was Thursday morning 5 a.m. when they landed.

Tony had been generous setting them up in business class and a really posh hotel which was somehow a ten minute walk to your house. He wondered how his boss pulled that off.

Bleary eyed and exhausted, they checked in, Peter crashed the minute he saw the bed. Bucky chuckled, the direct flight had him exhausted as well but he needed to check in, maintaining New York Time on the flight was easier, the little free wifi was okay-ish though his presence was scarce. He did tell you the plans were changing since your spying escapade. So that gave him a cover to be in and out of conversations with you.

The soft bed welcomes him and he sends messages to everyone that they reached the hotel safely, evening in New York City, his mum sent over videos of Alpine loving the sunny spot in the living room.

He opens up his photo album, he would finally have pictures of you taken by his own hand while you were actually in front of him. He smiles, he would have pictures with you.

Your stomach tightens with worry, the entire day feeling off and your jeans’ loop was caught on the door knob and you wanted to scream at the world. University had gone shit. Yet again your group was lousy not following up.

Natasha was for once trying to have you see the brighter side of things and you wondered if you had woken up in a different universe.

Classes finally came to an end, you sighed with relief. Bucky had sent in his usual set of memes and texts and you responded to them, his jokes being the only thing that made you smile today.

“Come on.” Nat urges as you drag your feet slowly towards the gate.

“What?” You question, “Look I had a rough day give me some slack.”

“I think you will be very happy.” She says grabbing your hand and urging you to walk faster.

You roll your eyes, she probably had plans to drag you home and have a sleep over, only on those days was she this chirpy.

“Oh shoot wait, I forgot my phone.” She clicks her tongue leaving you halfway to the gates near, you shake your head, looking back at her.

“That is what you get for being impatient!” You call out continuing walking backwards, you bump into someone, turning you look up at the tall man, smiling brightly at you.

“Sorry, Bucky.” You say and turn back to face Natasha who has her phone pointed at you with a grin.

Your eyes widen and you turn back to face the man you bumped into, familiar blue eyes gaze warmly at you and he has the Only For My Doll grin.

“Bucky?” You question, eyes brimming with tears.

“Hi Doll.” He grins, watching you, his own eyes glazing over.

“You- am I dreaming? I’m going to be so pissed if I’m dreaming.” You say still frozen in place.

“I think I met you in my dreams once,” He says, his own tears brimming over, “but I’m here now.”

“Bucky,” You cry out, wrapping your arms around him, burying your head in his chest, his comforting scent of pine and soft patchouli washing over you.

“Oh, Doll.” He rests his cheek against your head his arm pulling you close, keeping you pressed against him, soft vanilla fills his senses.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, you tilt your head back to look up at him, blinking away the tears.

“I love you.” You say and he cups your cheek.

“I love you.” He says and you cup his cheek.

He leans in, lips brushing against yours, hesitant. You press your lips against his, eyes closed. His hand moves to your waist, as your lips mould together, the kiss filled with emotion and the salty tinge of the shed tears, Bucky pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. As it burns all consuming, igniting everything that he promised, setting ablaze every inch of your skin.

When the two of you pull away panting, goofy smiles on your faces.

“We need to do that again,” he mutters, giving your lips a quick kiss again. You giggle, nodding.

“We need to, yeah.” You hug him again, if this is the reward for a shitty day, you’d go through hundreds of them for Bucky.

“I love you.” He whispers and your hold tightens upon him, his does too.

“I love you.” You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his chest.

a.n: first of all i want to say thank you for reading and giving your immense love to this fic, i love all of you so much and your interactions and comments make me so very happy!

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