#making sure my phone is kept FAR away from me so I don’t make any posts this time.

[monards]

i genuinely can’t remember anything from June but this one text exchange i had while under anesthesia sums it up pretty well. i think.

#i actually. still dont know what i meant. #LGAMSDOOOO #crepe under anesthesia is. not the same person #I was soooo messed up for like the. two weeks I was in icu #idk what they were putting in me but dear lord #public apology to my friends who dealt with. these texts. #making sure my phone is kept FAR away from me so I don’t make any posts this time. #I’m already incoherent; I really don’t need actual gibberish on here #LMFAO #its fiine i wont even be in there that long. itll be just. a few days #praise be! #crepes insanity #new tag #LMGAOASDHO #woman gets spine surgery and SUDDENLY she cant function :/ #its okay im better now #i just. dont my have functioning nerves back yet. #GIVE ME THEM BACK #PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still my wife.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

----

idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley wife #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #ex husband ghost #fluff

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad deserves better than Belly. After he sees Jere and her kiss, he get his ass to Stanford and meet this cute and smart maybe tutor girl (Haley James style) and falls in love with her and then they show up at Jere's wedding years later and Belly is jelly

I've spent the last five days working on this one.

p.s. it's 2k words...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Conrad finished his exam, he went back to Jeremiah and Belly. He was going to tell and confess his love to her before she had to get home, but when he got to his car, the scene Conrad walked on made him sick to his stomach: Belly and Jeremiah were full on making out against his car. He stopped short of the car and cleared his throat, causing the two to spring apart from their heated kiss and see Conrad looking right at them. 

Conrad’s face was white. He would rather have had someone shoot him in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly, than have to watch the two of them kissing.

He didn't know who he was more angry at. Belly, who, not even a day ago, had told him she would have fought harder for him if she knew he loved her that much. Or Jeremiah, who, although he knew how much Belly meant to his brother and how fucking in love he was with her, seized the opportunity to kiss Belly the moment he was alone with her.

‘’Conrad—’’ Belly started, guilt settling in her guts. 

He cut her off, his voice cold and cutting. ‘’I don’t want to hear it.’’ 

His gaze shifted from Belly to Jeremiah. There was so much hate in his eyes. How could Jere do that to him? They agreed to stop hiding things from each other and talk, but Jeremiah must have forgotten already. 

‘’You broke up with her, Con, remember? We did nothing wrong,’’ Jeremiah said, pulling facts in his favor to make himself feel better — less guilty — for kissing his brother’s ex.  

When Conrad kissed Belly on the beach last summer, he didn’t know she and Jeremiah were a thing — if he could call it that — or that he liked her. If he had, he wouldn’t have kissed Belly or confessed his feelings to her. Had the situation had been in reverse, Conrad wasn’t sure Jeremiah would have backed off. 

‘’I’m done.’’ Conrad's voice was resolute, his heart heavy as he turned away, unable to bear the sight of them any longer.

Jeremiah moved to follow, calling out Conrad's name. He didn’t stop, needing to be as far as possible from the painful scene. His mind was racing with a jumble of emotions. Anger, betrayal, and a profound hurt gnawed at him. He had trusted both Belly and Jeremiah, yet they pulled this shit behind his back. 

‘’Why do you always have to act like that?’’ Jeremiah said as he quickened his pace to catch up. 

Finally, Conrad turned to face Jeremiah, his expression a mix of sorrow and resentment. ‘’You don’t get to tell me how to react, Jere. You kiss the girl I love outside my school, against my car while she’s wearing my sweatshirt. If you don’t see how disgusting and messed up it all sounds—’’

‘’She kissed me,’’ the younger one quickly defended. 

 Hearing this made him want to pack his bags, get his ass to stanford and focus on school. He needed to turn the Belly page, and in order to do that, he needed to be away from both she and Jeremiah. California seemed far enough, right?

*

The first days and weeks were tough for Conrad, struggling to accept the definite end of the relationship. She was still all over him like a wine-stained shirt he couldn’t wear anymore. 

He blocked both Belly and Jeremiah’ numbers. If he wanted to move on, he had to keep his distance from them. For a while, at least. Then, he deleted all the old pictures he kept of Belly on his phone. There was no going back for them anymore. 

He was done.

*

You met Conrad a little before Christmas break. Just like those cliché rom-coms, you walked right into him and spilled your chai latte all over his sweater. You wanted to break the cliché and not fall for the victim of your clumsiness, but after one look into those beautiful blue eyes, you knew it would be impossible. 

 After that day, you kept crossing paths around campus and, one afternoon, you asked him out. He was so surprised, but he said ‘yes’. 

Although you had sealed the end of the night with a few kisses, you decided to take things slow. You had a very busy schedule with the tutoring lessons on top of your regular program, and Conrad was unsure if it was too soon to get in another relationship, if he was ready for it. The scar Belly had left on his heart was healing, but was he ready to open his heart to someone again? 

‘’Have you ever been in love?’’ you asked one night in his dorm while studying. 

Your question had caught Conrad off guard. It was visible on his face. 

‘’Have you?’’ he returned, not taking his eyes off his textbook. 

He was trying to dodge the question. 

‘’I asked you first,’’ you said, seeing through his plan.

‘’Then yes.’’

‘’How many times?’’

‘’Once.’’

His answers were flat, annoyed he was by all your questions. He wished you would stop and get back to studying in silence, but you kept going. 

‘’On a scale of one to ten, how in love were you?’’

‘’You can’t put being in love on a scale,’’ he said, lifting his head with furrowed eyebrows. ‘’Either you are or you aren’t.’’

‘’But if you had to say.’’

Conrad started flipping through his notes. He hadn’t thought of Belly in months. He missed her — in a different way he used to. She was his friend before they got tangled into this mess.

He didn’t look at you when he finally said it. ‘’Ten.’’

*

The more time he spent in your presence, the more Conrad was — unknowingly — letting go of his past. 

The pictures he deleted months ago became pictures of you, filling his phone until there was no space left. The smell of your perfume lingered on some of his clothes and in his car. He had your coffee order memorized, along with your favorite study-break snack, which he made sure to have in stock in his dorm. 

You became part of his routine — part of his life —, brightening his days even on his darkest, saddest nights. 

He didn’t want to bother you, but nothing was calming the ache in his chest. He tried getting some air and smoking weed, he even thought of calling Laurel, but it was almost 2am in Pennsylvania. Conrad didn’t want to scare her. 

So he pulled up your contact and called, the weight of his grief still heavy in his heart, wishing Susannah was still there. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since she took her last breath. 

You were about to slip into bed when you saw his name flashing on your phone. You almost didn’t pick up, but you got a gut feeling that he needed you. 

When you opened your door, a saddened look was etched onto Conrad's face, his beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. The sight pulled at your heart and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him for the whole night.

Supported each other through finals and all-nighters.

‘’Getting tired?’’ you said, catching him actively fighting against his own eyelids. 

Conrad shook his head, taking a long gulp of his coffee. ‘’No time for sleep. I have this huge exam first thing tomorrow and I still have a lot of chapters to cover.’’

‘’You can take a short nap if you want. I’ll wake you in thirty minutes,’’ you kindly offered, flipping through your notes for a specific annotation. 

‘’Nah, I’m good.’’ He flashed you a soft smile, then returned to his studying. 

A few minutes later, and you couldn't help but notice that Conrad's eyes had begun to droop. They would halfway close and then he would either blink a bunch of times, or widen his eyes until they were bug eyed. It was cute.

‘’Con? Conrad?’’ you called out gently. 

‘’I'm not sleeping. I'm resting my eyes,’’ he mumbled defensively, fighting fatigue.

There was no way he was getting through the night, so you put your notes down and slipped on Conrad’s flannel shirt that was on the back of your chair to shield you from the night air. ‘’We’re gonna need more coffee.’’ 

As you came back with two fresh cups of coffee, you found Conrad fast asleep on your pillow, still clutching his pen.

And held his hand through the rainiest times — literally.

‘’Isn't California supposed to be the sunniest state?’’ Conrad asked, watching the downpour through the windshield, drenched from head to toe. ‘’The seats are all wet...’’ 

‘’You gotta learn to live with the consequences of your own actions, Connie baby.’’ 

It was his idea to get waffles when the sky was looking very gray and angry. He insisted that it would clear out, but a loud clap of thunder echoed on your way back to the car and rain started pouring. You took the road back to campus, but it got too dangerous, forcing Conrad to stop the car on the shoulder of the road and wait for the rain to calm. 

You wiped your face with the sleeve of your hoodie and a smile curled on Conrad’s lips, still the most beautiful to his eyes despite your wet hair and the slight smear of mascara under your eyes. 

 ‘’Rain happens everywhere. Even in the dryest desert,’’ you reminded him, pulling out your phone to check the weather app.‘’Unfortunately, this one isn't gonna stop anytime soon.’’

You toed off your sneakers, making Conrad draw his eyebrows.

‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’We’re gonna be here for a while.’’ You peeled off your hoodie — also wet from the rain —, leaving you in your skirt and dainty bralette. ‘’Might as well occupy ourselves,’’ you explained before leaning over the middle console and kissing him, fastening yourself to him with a stitch. 

The kiss took him by surprise, but he wasn’t complaining. He could spend hours kissing you and never get bored. 

You crawled over the console and on Conrad’s lap without breaking contact, your hands easily finding grip on his hair as you felt his hands all over your body, caressing and pulling. The windows were fogging quickly around you, creating a veil of privacy as more layers were peeled off.

Conrad once believed he had found love, that Belly was it for him, but the feelings he felt back then were nothing compared to how he felt right now. 

‘’You’re the best thing that happened to me,’’ he confessed, his forehead pressed against yours. 

*

The invitation came in a few weeks before the wedding. Conrad couldn’t believe his brother was going through with this. Everything was happening so fast and seemed rushed. Him and Belly weren’t even twenty. Who gets married so young anymore? 

He arrived in Cousins a few days prior to the wedding, surprising everyone — and stealing the attention from the soon-to-be-weds — when they saw a girl with him. 

The only person who knew exactly who you were was Steven. A few months ago, you had posted a picture with Conrad at the beach and tagged him, leading to Steven finding out about his friend’s new girlfriend. He was surprised when he saw it, but very happy for Conrad. He deserved better than someone who plays between two hearts. 

Laurel put down the table-center she was holding and went over to pull Conrad in a hug. She turned to you, making quick introductions, and Conrad held his breath. He’s always been close to Laurel and her approval meant more to him than his father’s or Jeremiah’s. 

While the two of you engaged into a conversation, he saw her. Belly. Dressed in a white sundress and talking to Taylor, she looked just the same. The only difference was, Conrad felt nothing. No pain, no old feelings rising back. 

For the first time, what’s past was past.

‘’Belly, come greet Connie and his girlfriend,’’ Laurel called out to her daughter. 

Although you had never met her, you could tell exactly who she was in the room — and not only because her dress was white. The jealousy filling her eyes when they fell on you gave her away.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777 @nomorespahgetti @lomlolivia @5sosbands @bloodyhw @depthsofdespairr @a-band-aid-for-your-heart @gilbertscurls @brandirouse86 @leilani-nichole @Veescorneroftheworld @papayaboyluvr  @bchindureyes @bellysbeach  @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster  @johannelis2302nely  @aqshua @foockingasshole @straberryshortcake143 @luiise

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #tsitp #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher x you

[dumbseee]

noticed pt2.

f1 au/fic: having her celebrity crush as her boyfriend was something y/n didn’t expect to happen, which she also didn’t expect is the hate she would’ve receive.

lando norris x reader.

fc: bruna marquezine.

part 1.

note: i wasn’t planning on doing a part 2 but you guys asked so you shall receive :) (i wrote that very quickly so it’s not that good i’m so sorry)

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 230 997 others.

y/n: lil photo dump because i’m living my best life with my loved ones <3 have a nice week guys!

_

landonorris: pretty girl <3

liked by y/n.

francisca.cgomes: had the best time with you baby

yourfriend: you’re shining girl

fan1: who tf is y/n? why is she even so popular?

fan2. @.fan1 bc she’s fucking lando and people have an obsession with wags

fan3: ew such a whore

fan4: why is she always half naked?

fan5: i’d be so embarrassed if i were lando bc wtf is she wearing?

fan6: lando RUN

fan7: y’all see a pretty woman dating y’all favourite driver and decide to hate her for no reason

fan8: y/n get behind me

you couldn’t stop crying, you didn’t know what you did to deserve that. you deactivated all your socials so you won’t receive any messages from people with bad intentions, and turned off your phone that kept buzzing with notifications from friends and family. you tried to call lando, to make sure he knew that this was bullshit and that never would you even think about cheating on him. you did go to neymar’s party but only as your friend’s plus one. you talked with the footballer but for literally five minutes. the girl in the picture wasn’t you and you prayed that lando knew that. but he wasn’t answering his phone and that actually made you panic even more. your whole body was shaking, you were having a panic attack and you didn’t know how to calm it since you never had one before.

this situation was horrible for you, you didn’t even know how to fix it, of course it was all a lie but would the internet believe you? deactivating all your socials could be seen as suspicious by fans. they hated you anyway so whatever excuse you’d come up with, they’d never believe you. would lando even believe you? that thought made you sob even more, you struggled to breath and fell on the ground, resting your head on your knees. you could hear your heart beats going way too fast and you prayed for someone to help you because you were going to die from that damn panic attack.

"y/n! hey y/n!" you heard a voice, but it was faint, as if someone was calling you from very far away. "y/n, please baby! breath!" lando. it was lando’s voice. you opened your eyes and saw your boyfriend, shaking you to make you come to your senses, his eyes were glossy and he looked worried, when he saw you open your eyes and look at him he sighed softly and smiled at you. "welcome back, baby." he kissed your forehead before putting your hand on his own heart while he did the same to yours. "breath for me. we’ll do it together, okay?" you nodded slowly and started to follow his breaths. "one. two. three. yeah, you’re doing amazing my love." he smiled again and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "you scared the shit out of me." he whispered, still against your forehead. "i am so sorry, lando, i swear it’s not-" he shushed you and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a long and soothing embrace. you felt silent tears roll down your cheeks.

"don’t say a word, i already know." he says, he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed your tears away. "those pretty eyes can’t be drowning in tears, love." he added. "i trust you y/n. i love and trust you with my life, i know that you’d never do such a thing." he finished by kissing your lips. "then why did you ignore my calls?" you asked. "because i needed to get back home asap to confort you." he smiled and you swore that your heart exploded.

that was the moment where you realised how deeply in love you were with lando. he was so perfect with you, always taking care of you and putting you first. you sometimes wondered if you deserved that kind of love.

"we’re going to watch your favorite tv show, order some food and take a bath later. today is y/n self care day. and don’t think about that rumour, i’m going to take care of that." he kissed the top of your head and helped you get up from the ground.

liked by y/n, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 1 790 007 others.

landonorris: i’m going to say this once and for all: y/n l/n is the sweetest most loving and respectful person i’ve ever met in my entire existence. she’s the light that keeps shining during my darkest days, she’s the presence i crave after a long day away from her. y/n has been the victim of disgusting rumours and death threats, i’ll be taking action against every single ones of you who even just commented one single bad emoji under her posts, i’ll come for you. you made her cry, i think it’s fair enough that i make you pay back for every single tear that she shed because of people like you.

_

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#f1 au #f1 fandom #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 social media au #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x oc #formula 1 #formula one x y/n #formula one #formula one x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader

[drabbles-mc]

Out of Practice

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: milf/dilf

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, steamy things, reader is a mom, bucky hasn't dated in like 70 years

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: I had no idea what I was going to do for this prompt for the longest time but then tonight this all fell outta me in one sitting lmao. enjoy some cameos from Sam and Tony! And thanks again to @buckybarnesevents and @rookthorne for putting this event together 💖

MCU Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Bucky was standing at the bottom of the walkway that led to the main doors of the school. Despite the warmth that came from the late spring weather, he still had on his leather jacket and gloves. He was far from the only person standing out and waiting for the final bell to ring, but he still felt like he stood out. No matter how much time went by that was a feeling he had yet to shake.

He pried his eyes off the cracked concrete beneath his boots when the bell rang, shortly followed by the front doors of the school being pushed open by dozens upon dozens of kids desperate to get out and head home. Many of them were sprinting off towards the buses, but some were making a direct line right where Bucky was standing with the rest of the parents and other family members. He kept his eyes peeled, but he still didn’t see who he was looking for.

A couple minutes ticked by and for a moment he wondered if he had shown up at the wrong place, or on the wrong day. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket when the front door opened up again. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Morgan walking out, jacket tied around her waist and backpack settled on her shoulders. She was looking up at the woman next to her, the two of them talking as the woman balanced a child who looked like she was just barely old enough to be in kindergarten on her hip.

When Morgan looked away, she immediately saw Bucky. A smile broke out across her face as she threw a hand up to wave, an expression and gesture that he returned. He took a few steps so that he met her right where the walkways met. She walked right up to him, holding both hands out in closed fists. Bucky’s grin widened slightly as he held his fists out as well, tapping their knuckles together before the both pulled their hands back, making an exploding sound and gesture as they did.

Once they completed their ritual, Bucky turned his attention to you. You were smiling at the sight of the two of them, but he could see the questioning look still lingering in your eyes. “You must be Uncle Bucky, then?” you asked, although the answer seemed fairly obvious.

He chuckled, looking briefly at Morgan before he returned his attention back to you. “Yeah, but just Bucky is fine.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did so carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping child on your hip as you gave him your name in return. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing her out.” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “Just like to make sure that everything’s alright when someone new is picking up one of my students.”

“I tried to tell her you weren’t new,” Morgan interjected, her sarcasm making her sound so much like her father despite only being nine years old.

You shook your head with a knowing smile. “New to me, then,” you corrected.

“It’s fine,” Bucky said with a small shake of his head. “I get it.”

“I appreciate that.” You looked back and forth between the two of them, an odd but fitting pair. “I’ll let you two go. It was nice to meet you, Bucky.” You shifted your gaze to the young girl standing beside him. “And I will see you on Monday, Miss Morgan.”

Morgan was already saying goodbye and turning to head off towards Bucky’s care by the time the words left your mouth. Bucky, however, was still staring at you, looking at the way you were balancing the little girl on one hip while you had her backpack on the opposite shoulder, your own bag hanging in the crook of your arm. He knew that this was probably far from the first time you left the school building with your hands full but he still felt like it was wrong to not at least offer to help.

“Do you need help with—”

“I’ve got it,” you reassured him with a smile, taking a step towards the parking lot, “but thank you.”

He didn’t try to offer again, taking your word for what it was worth. Turning, he easily collapsed the distance between himself and Morgan in one stride, and the two of them started walking off towards his car. You heard the two of them talking as they walked away. Or, rather, you heard Morgan talking about her day and Bucky chiming in with a word of acknowledgment. You cast a couple brief looks at them as you walked over to your car, smiling at the sight of them.

You returned your focus to the task at hand as you tried to get your daughter into her booster seat in the back of your car. You weren’t too worried, since she had luckily been a heavy sleeper ever since she was born, but you still tried to be extra careful. You were clicking her seatbelt into place when you heard Bucky’s car engine rumbling to life.

You caught a glimpse through your own car’s windshield as they drove by, Morgan sitting behind the empty passenger seat of Bucky’s car. They were out of you line of sight as quickly as they’d entered it. When they were gone again you set both your bag and your daughter’s on the floor by her feet.

~*~

“Ew, no,” Morgan said as she shook her head, her and Bucky looking at each other through the rearview mirror, “he’s gross. All the boys in my grade are.”

Bucky laughed, nodding. “Your dad will be happy to hear that.”

“I don’t even want a boyfriend.”

Bucky fought to the urge to give his knee-jerk response which would’ve been, “Well, yeah, you’re fucking nine.” Instead, he asked, “You tell him that?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “He went and asked Chrissy instead.”

“Worked out for you,” Bucky said, throwing his directional on before turning onto the main road away from the school. “You don’t need a boyfriend—you’re fine.”

“Dad says that you need a girlfriend.”

Bucky nearly choking on the breath he was pulling in. His eyes drifted from the road and back to the mirror to look at her. “What?”

“What?” she parroted back to him, blissfully unaware of why he reacted that way. “That’s what he said.”

Bucky was shaking his head, gaze fixed back on the road once more. “Yeah? Well your dad’s a—”

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asked.

Bucky chuckled, a genuine sound. “Ever? Yeah.”

“This century?”

His eyebrows raised, surprised but also not. “You gotta stop listening to your dad all the time.”

A wide grin blossomed across her face. “But have you?”

He shook his head. “I thought we were cool,” he said sarcastically.

Morgan laughed hard enough at that to usher them into another topic of conversation with the rest of the drive home. Bucky went the long way, swinging through McDonald’s on the way since he was told that was fine this time around. It killed a little more time anyway, which was really what he needed. The only reason that he has the one enlisted to go and pick Morgan up in the first place was because Tony and Pepper were both running late with work. Not terribly so, but late enough that they didn’t want to ask her teacher to stay and wait.

Even with the extra stop planned in, and the most scenic route as possible taken, it still didn’t take them very long to get home. Before either of them could think much of it Bucky was rolling into Tony and Pepper’s driveway.

Bucky had just put the car in park when Morgan jumped out of the car, backpack strap in one hand and happy meal in the other. Bucky shook his head at her, laughing as he got out of the car much slower than she had. He finally felt comfortable enough to take off his gloves, tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans as he walked towards Tony’s porch.

Morgan had left the door opened behind her, so Bucky walked through and closed it as he did. When he looked around the room he saw that Morgan had already made her way over to her father and gotten swept off the ground in a hug.

As Tony was setting her back down on the floor, he asked, “You got some extra fries for me, right?”

Morgan laughed. “No way.”

Tony faked deep offense at her response. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore.”

Bucky piped in. “I didn’t get you any either, for the record.”

Tony smirked. “That much I expected.”

Morgan looked around the room a little more, and when she didn’t see Pepper, she asked, “Where’s Mom?”

Tony gestured deeper into the house. “She’s out back.”

Morgan tossed both her backpack and her McDonald’s box of food onto the counter. “I’m gonna go say hi!” She pointed at Tony. “Don’t eat my fries.” She turned and pointed at Bucky. “Don’t let him eat my fries.”

Bucky gave a small salute. “Yes ma’am.”

When Morgan had scampered out of the room, Tony’s full attention shifted to Bucky. “Thanks for picking her up—I know it was short-notice.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Went okay?”

He nodded. “Teacher came out to make sure I wasn’t some kidnapper, but yeah, it went okay.”

Tony chuckled as he opened the fridge. “Figured she would.” He grabbed a beer for himself and offered one to Bucky, when he declined he shrugged with a suit yourself expression and let the door fall shut.

“Why’s your nine-year-old telling me I need to get a girlfriend?” Bucky asked as he watched Tony pop the cap off the bottle.

Tony didn’t miss a beat. “My guess is because you need to get a girlfriend.”

“Tony—”

“You met her teacher then, right?” Tony shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “She’s single. And cu—”

Bucky’s tone shifted drastically as he repeated himself. “Tony.”

The hand that wasn’t holding the beer bottle was held up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“That why you sent me to pick her up? Is Happy even busy?”

Tony laughed. “Like Happy would ever be too busy to get Morgan from school.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Oh my fuc—”

“Watch it.” Tony lifted the hand he was holding the bottle with, pointing accusingly at him. “There are little ears in the house.”

Bucky sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t need you playing matchmaker.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms against the smooth dark stone-top of the island. “And I definitely don’t need you roping in your nine-year-old to help.”

“I actually didn’t tell her to say anything to you.”

“I don’t need you talking to her about my love life at all.”

“I was talking to Pepper about it. But hey,” he took another sip, “little ears hear everything.”

He watched as Bucky chuckled in disbelief. Tony knew that it wasn’t his place to say or do anything, that out of everyone he was probably close to the bottom of the list when it came to people who had the right to give dating advice. Even with that being the case, though, Tony had been watching Bucky muddle through and get along without ever really learning to get close to anyone since everything happened with Steve. He was gone now, and while Bucky might’ve accepted that, he still hadn’t really made any moves to let new people in. A girlfriend wouldn’t solve all of those issues, as Pepper had swiftly told him. But it probably also wouldn’t hurt, as Tony had told her in response.

“Gonna make me go to parent-teacher night next?” Bucky asked, his tone light enough to let Tony know that it wasn’t going to turn into an argument for the time being.

“Don’t be ridiculous—you’re not ready for anything more than an open house.”

He scoffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”

They both had plenty more comments to make about the topic but they let it drop as Morgan re-entered the room, Pepper in tow right behind her. Bucky and Tony exchanged a knowing look, one that confirmed that their conversation as on hold for now. Pepper caught it, but knew enough to know not to ask. Instead, she started a new conversation by thanking Bucky for picking Morgan up. He stayed long enough to make a little small talk before excusing himself, making sure to give Morgan another double fist-bump before heading for the door.

“I’ll walk you out,” Tony said, leaving his half-empty beer bottle on the counter.

Bucky knew exactly what Tony was doing, but didn’t say anything. The two of them slipped out the door, and Tony followed him down off the porch and all the way to his car.

When he realized that Bucky wasn’t going to say anything about any of it, he spoke up himself. “I could probably get her number for you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not? You don’t think she’s—”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know it,” Bucky cut him off. “Just leave it alone, Tony.”

“Mmm.” He shook his head. “Don’t think I can do that. Matter of national security at this point—you’re left unattended an awful lot.”

“And you think I need an elementary teacher to keep me company?”

“She knows how to wrangle kids and keep ‘em in line—sounds perfect for you.”

���Don’t say anything to her.”

Tony stared at Bucky for a long, hard minute. “Fine.”

Bucky didn’t believe it for a second but be also knew that continuing to argue about it wasn’t going to fix anything either. “Thanks.”

They exchanged a quick handshake and a brief goodbye, and soon enough, Bucky was on his way. The drive back to his apartment felt longer than usual, his thoughts wandering in the silence of the car since he didn’t make any move to turn the radio on. He thought about you, not that he would ever give Tony the satisfaction of knowing that, the way you smiled as you balanced your daughter on your hip. He thought about the apparent ease there was between you and Morgan. He thought about your dress and the way it fell just above your knees, the way the bright colors looked so nice and seemed so fitting.

Then he shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Tony was just in his head now, having him overthink about a woman he’d met for all of two minutes. The likelihood of him seeing you again wasn’t very high, not unless Tony started asking him to play chauffer for Morgan a lot more often, and somehow he didn’t really see that happening.

When he walked into his apartment, Bucky was immediately greeted by Alpine running up and rubbing against his legs. He chuckled, crouching down so that he could give him a light scratch behind his ears. Part of it was because Alpine was happy to have his owner home, Bucky was sure. But the other part was about the fact that it was definitely past Alpine’s usual dinnertime. Bucky understood all of that.

“I know,” his metal fingers can down Alpine’s spine, causing him to arch and purr, “I’m late.”

The next few minutes was just Bucky hanging up his jacket, giving Alpine his dinner, and then pulling something out of the freezer to cook for his own dinner as well. While he was waiting for the oven to finish pre-heating, the only sound that could be heard was Alpine crunching on his kibble as he stood above his bowl. Bucky watched him for a moment, a small smile on his face at the simplicity of the life he had now. Something that for a long time he didn’t think he would ever have.

It was a good life. It was quieter now than it had been for a long time—he was almost used to it. But maybe Tony was right, not that Bucky would ever tell him as much in so many words, but there might’ve been something to what Tony had been trying to tell him. A truth that was simpler to ignore because continuing on as he had been required far less work than trying to get to know someone, trying to let someone get to know him.

He pulled his phone out, tempted to search your name just to see what would pop up, what he would be able to learn about you. Then he stopped himself, shaking his head to try and dispel the thoughts. What good would it do? Why was he thinking like you were someone he knew already? Or like you were someone that already knew him? For all he knew, you’d forgotten him already. Hell, for all he knew you had no desire to get to know anyone, let alone someone like him. The beeping of his oven saved him from going down that spiral any further.

~*~

Sam was sitting on the stool to Bucky’s left. The music in the bar was loud, but not so much so that they had to shout to talk to each other. But once Bucky processed the sentence that Sam had just spoken to him, he instantly wished that the music was loud enough so that he couldn’t hear the other man at all.

Bucky pulled a long drink from the beer bottle in his hand, gloved fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of it. “Can’t believe he got you in on this shit too.”

Sam shrugged, unfazed by Bucky’s blatant annoyance. “I’m just sayin’, I think the guy might have a point.”

“Since when do you agree with Stark?”

Sam laughed. “I’ll agree with anybody if I think they’re right!” He paused, studied the look on Bucky’s face and then added on with a laugh, “Well, yeah, not you. But other people.”

Bucky tried to keep his annoyed expression but then chuckled. “Fuck you.”

Sam wasn’t going to let the conversation get derailed. “Alright, so you don’t like the girl he was telling you about, so why don’t you—”

“I didn’t say—”

“They got apps for that now. Oh, sorry,” Sam held up his hand in a pausing motion, “Apps are things that you can put on your pho—”

Bucky’s brows knit together. “I know what apps are.”

Sam allowed himself a minute to laugh at his own joke before saying, “So it’s not the girl. Then, what? Afraid you left all your game back in the forties?”

He shook his head, eyes suddenly glued down to his beer bottle. “Sure, yeah. Something like that.”

“Want my advice?”

“No.”

Sam gave it anyway. “Get over it.” He ignored the increasingly annoyed look on Bucky’s face. “Go buy a girl a drink. Ask her for her number. Use whatever corny line you used back in the nineteen hundreds the last time you had to pretend to have some game.”

Bucky didn’t want to laugh but he couldn’t stop himself. Sam might’ve been oversimplifying but Bucky was also vaguely aware of the fact that he was overcomplicating things for himself. “I’ll think about it. But,” he paused to point at Sam accusingly while he grabbed a sip of his beer, “I didn’t have to pretend to have game. I had it—have. I have it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Riiiight.”

The topic dropped, and they moved onto talking about other things. There were frequent pauses in the conversation, both of them turning to look at people coming into the bar. Neither of them ever thought they would fully break that habit, no matter how often they went out into the world as civilians.

The door let out a quiet chime, and Bucky’s head instinctively snapped in the direction to see who was coming in. His eyes widened and he stopped himself in the middle of the sentence that he was saying to Sam. There was no brain to mouth filter as he let out a quiet, “Shit.”

Sam’s face contorted in confusion as he turned to see what it was that had Bucky reacting that way. He looked over, his confusion immediately shifting into a smug grin when he saw you standing in the doorway. Bucky hadn’t even given Sam a description of what you looked like, but he could tell from Bucky’s reaction that there was no way that you could possibly be anyone else.

“Talk about good timing,” Sam joked.

Bucky was still staring at you, not that you’d noticed, as he spoke to Sam. “Shut up.”

“Now’s the time.”

He fought the urge to shove him off the stool. “I said shut up.”

You were only a couple steps inside the bar, you phone clutched tightly in one hand as you looked around the semi-tight space. The focused furrow of your brow said that you were looking for someone. The tight black jeans and lacy grey top you were wearing said that you were probably looking for your date. There were five million reasons Bucky felt his mouth go dry and none of them were doing him any good.

He saw the rise and fall of your shoulders as you let out a sigh. You typed on your phone for a moment before making your way over to the bar, carefully weaving your way through the clusters of other patrons. The closer you got, the more Bucky hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. You were so focused on getting to the bar and snagging a rare empty seat, that you didn’t even notice that the seat was next to him until after you’d ordered your drink. You wouldn’t have looked in his direction at all if you hadn’t heard someone laughing.

When you turned, the first thing you saw was Bucky, the familiar face and leather jacket. The next thing you noticed was the man on the other side of him, the source of said laughter. You tilted your head as your eyes made their way back to Bucky. You allowed yourself a laugh of your own. “Bucky?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “H-hey. Yeah, hi.”

“So funny seeing you here!” You paused, looking back and forth between him and the man next to him. “How are you?”

He nodded again, pulling the words up one by one. “Good. I’m good. You?”

“I’m, um,” you chuckled awkwardly, “I’m alright, I think? Supposed to be meeting someone here but,” you glanced around, “I don’t see them yet.”

The man on the other side of Bucky leaned across him and held his hand out. “I’m Sam, by the way.” He flashed you a charming grin. “Not the person you were looking for, but figured I’d introduce myself anyway since this guy wasn’t going to.”

You laughed as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

The three of you chit-chatted, and you tried not to think too much about the way that Bucky was looking at you. You were putting too much thought into it, you were certain. Maybe you were just projecting, taking all the growing disappointment you were feeling about your supposed “date” still not being there and channeling it into the way that Bucky seemed to be so attentively listening to you.

Taking another sip from the straw in your drink, you checked the time on your phone one more time. Letting out a deep sigh, you looked over at Bucky, and Sam too. “I’m glad I ran into you two tonight, because from the looks of it the person that I came out to see is not showing up.” You shoved your phone back into the pocket of your jeans with a shake of your head.

“He’s an idiot,” Sam chimed in without hesitation.

You laughed and nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment.” You finished off your drink and you didn’t try to dissuade the bartender who was grabbing your glass and heading off to make you another. Looking back at the two of them, you said, “My friends were the ones who convinced me to get on those stupid dating apps anyway.” You shook your head. “Lotta good it did, huh?”

Bucky nodded, shooting a pointed look at Sam as he said, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Sam was laughing, but Bucky noticed the way that he was moving to throw some cash down on the bar. He gathered up his jacket as he got off the stool. “Well, not to be the bearer of more bad news, but I gotta take off.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulders as he walked by. “But you two crazy kids stay out and have some fun. It was very nice to meet you.” He flashed the two of you another grin. “Call if you need bail money. Not me, but, you know, call somebody.”

You laughed as you and Bucky each said goodbye to him. The two of you watched him as he practically skipped out of the bar and out onto the street. Bucky was caught between wishing he could chase Sam down and tackle him, and wishing he could skip right out the door alongside him. There was no buffer between the two of you anymore, and Bucky felt so strangely exposed.

“Sorry about your date,” Bucky finally offered up.

You smiled good-naturedly. “I’m not that heartbroken over it,” you said honestly as the bartender set your fresh drink down in front of you. “My expectations were pretty low, but, you know,” you took a sip, “not so low that I assumed he wasn’t gonna be here.”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s fair.”

“Honestly, I’m just more pissed off that I wasted one of my few free weekend evenings on some guy who didn’t even bother texting me to cancel.”

“Few?”

You smiled as you said, “My daughter. Every other week she’s with her dad. I miss her when she’s gone, so I try to stay busy. Usually with friends, but every now and then it’s some pipe-dream of a date.” You took another sip. “They usually do show up, though, at the risk of making myself sound horrible desperate,” you joked.

Bucky laughed. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

Your smile softened a touch, but it was still there. “Well, thank you for that at least.”

You had every intention of finishing off your drink, paying your tab, and heading right home. You weren’t typically one for staying out all hours in a bar or a club somewhere, even when you were out with your friends. And, as nice as it was that you had a chance run-in with Bucky when everything else seemed to be going wrong, you were still ready to turn it in and go home. Back to your pajamas and fuzzy blankets.

That’s not what happened, however, despite your best intentions. Somewhere along the way you switched from cocktails to soda just for the sake of being able to stay longer without getting too much of a buzz as you talked to Bucky. He wasn’t exactly a chatterbox, per se, and you hadn’t really expected him to be. The two of you managed to keep up a good pace of back and forth regardless of that. He did a little more listening than he did talking but it didn’t seem to bother him. It also made you realize that even though you had your friends, and your fellow teachers at school, there weren’t a whole lot of times when you went out to socialize with other adults. It also didn’t hurt that Bucky was so nice to look at, that he seemed to be just as interested in looking right back at you.

You’d both lost track of time as you sat there, and when you were both finally making your way towards the door of the bar, it was much later than either of you had bargained for. The two of you walked, and Bucky pulled the door open for you. The two of you were mid-conversation when you landed back out on the sidewalk. It was only then that you realized you probably weren’t going to be heading in the same direction.

Bucky watched as you motioned back over your shoulder, the opposite direction from the way he was heading. “I’m parked this way, but, it was really good seeing you. What are the chances, right?” You laughed lightly.

He smiled, nodded. “Yeah. It was, um,” he could feel the words that he wanted to say resting on the tip of his tongue and he was conflicted about whether or not he wanted to actually say them, “it was good to see you again.” He paused, hating every bit of hesitation that he was feeling. “Do you, um, I was wondering,” he was reaching for the pocket of his jacket for his phone as he fumbled his way through the question, “I mean on your next free weekend…”

You felt your face warm as he continued on. You knew where the line of questioning was going, and part of you knew that maybe you should put him out of his misery. But it was sweet, and you were enjoying that. Finally, you nodded. “That’d be nice.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he took his phone out. “Great. Okay, yeah. I’ll…I’ll call you. You know,” he managed a smile with a little more ease, “save you from all the apps.”

You laughed as you typed your name and number in. “You’re a lifesaver.”

In the back of his mind he knew that he should be making some sort of move now. Walk you to your car, give you a hug, something. But if asking for your number was as difficult as it had proven itself to be, he didn’t know what it was going to be like trying to manage anything else. So he took the win, and bid you goodnight.

Over the course of the next couple days, he was caught between wanting to tell both Tony and Sam separately that he’d gotten your number. He thought maybe it would help get them off his back. What he didn’t want, though, was for them to just get on his case about a whole new slew of things. He also didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they’d been right.

So, instead of reaching out to either of them, he texted you instead. It was casual at first, just brief messages here and there. Texting wasn’t his favorite way to stay in touch with people, but he at least recognized that it was what people did now.

He called you once, when he wanted to actually try and make plans to see you. That conversation wasn’t one that he wanted to have over text, and he told you as much. You also found that to be sweet as well. It wasn’t a long conversation, one taking place while you made dinner and your daughter was busy with her toys in the living room. But the two of you settled on a date, a time, and that he would come by your place to pick you up. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled so much while making pasta.

~*~

“Tony is never gonna let you hear the end of this when he finds out,” Sam said as he sat down at Bucky’s kitchen counter.

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky grabbed drinks out of his fridge. “That’s why I haven’t said anything to him about it.”

“Nothing?!”

“No!” Bucky said, breaking down into laughter after a moment. “You gonna tell him?”

“What, you think that we’re texting about you all the time?” Sam shook his head. “Get over yourself.”

Bucky was about to come back with something snarky as per usual when his phone chimed on the counter. Sam looked, too nosey to stop himself. The grin that spread across his face when he saw your name on the screen. At the look on Sam’s face, Bucky’s instinct was to reach and flip the phone over, but he stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed his phone and messaged you back before setting it down.

“You wanna call me while you’re getting ready?” Sam joked. “I’ll help you pick out an outfit. Tell you how to do your hair.”

Bucky chuckled. “Fuck you.”

~*~

He didn’t call Sam before the date. He also hadn’t heard anything from Tony which led him to believe that Sam had been kind enough to keep his mouth shut. That was all well and good, but he wished that it did anything to soothe the nerves that he was feeling as he stood outside your door.

He felt like an awkward sixteen-year-old again as he stood on your front step. He rang the doorbell, flowers clutched tightly in his hand as he waited. He’d spoken to you earlier, and you had seemed excited about it all still. That gave him hope. But again, it still wasn’t enough to eradicate the lingering feelings of anxiety he had.

Another few seconds passed by and then you pulled open the door. You were smiling at him as you were trying to do the latch on your necklace. “Hey! Sorry, I still have to get my shoes on and stuff. Please,” you stepped back and nodded for him to step inside, “come in. I’ll be ready in like, two minutes.”

He smiled as he somewhat nervously followed your instructions, stepping just past the threshold of your house. “Take your time,” he said calmly as he shut the door behind him.

He looked around while you finished putting on your jewelry and went to grab your shoes. He wasn’t sure what he had been picturing your house looking like, but what he saw felt fitting. It was tidy considering how young your daughter was. There were some toys scattered about in patches, framed photos on the walls and drawings tacked onto the fridge by magnets. It was a home in a way that none of Bucky’s places since he came back had ever been.

“Okay,” you said as you reappeared, smoothing out your blouse, “I’m ready. Sor—” you stopped short when you finally noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The smile on your face was wide enough to make your cheeks hurt. “Those are beautiful.”

Bucky’s eyes widened for a moment, like he’d forgotten that he had them. He held them out to you. “Just figured, you know…”

You smiled as you took them, flitting off to the kitchen so that you could put them in a vase with water. “Thank you.”

As the two of you drove, you could feel him slowly starting to relax. The two of you talked, and you could see the way that his grip on the steering wheel started to become less vice-like. There was something refreshing in the way that he opened the car door for you, and the door to the diner that the two of you had agreed on. He sat down across from you in the booth and you noticed the way that he still had his gloves on as he looked through the menu. You wanted to ask but you didn’t—if he wanted to say something about it you had a feeling that he would.

The conversation felt easy, the same way it had been that night at the bar. The only difference now was the feeling in the air. There was a different kind of tension now that hadn’t been there before. Sure, you’d been attracted to him even then, but that hadn’t been a date. Not like this.

Every now and then if one of you shifted in your seat and your feet or legs would brush. Neither of you said anything about it, but you could feel the upward curl of your own lips as it happened, the occasional pink flush of Bucky’s cheeks. Sometimes it’d make him stumble in his sentence and you’d do him the courtesy of not commenting on it.

The two of you were splitting a piece of pie for dessert, something you insisted on because you knew the woman who baked them for the diner. It wasn’t as though Bucky put up any great fight about it. The closer the two of you got to finishing it, the more you engaged in low-stakes warfare, dueling with your forks over the pieces with the best crust-to-filling ratio.

“You can have the last bite,” you conceded with a laugh, leaning back in the booth.

“Oh, come on,” he joked, “it doesn’t feel good to win by forfeit.”

You laughed, warmth blossoming up your neck and across your face. “It’s not forfeit. Think of it as, I don’t know,” you drummed your fingers against the tabletop, “me being nice since it was your first time here.” You paused, studying the amused look on his face. “That better?”

He shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Little bit.”

The two of you walked back out to his car, and you found yourself walking much closer to his side than you had been on the way in. Your arm brushed against his as the two of you walked, and you found yourself about half a step away from leaning into his side.

He reached to open the car door for you, but before he could you leaned back against it so that you were facing him. You let one arm hang by your side, with the other you brought your palm so that it rested against his chest, pads of your fingertips pressing lightly against the leather.

Bucky almost pulled away out of reflex, but he didn’t. “Yes?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Nothing, nothing.” You let your hand drop, the pads of your fingers dragging for a moment before your arm was back at your side once more. You moved just enough so that he could open the door again for you. “Thank you.”

Bucky walked you up to the door of your house, and he felt like his heart was beating clean up into the back of his throat. He didn’t remember dating being this nerve-wracking before. You seemed perfectly unfazed, though as you sauntered up and slipped your key into the lock.

“You wanna come in?” you offered as you opened the door. “Have a drink?”

It took more effort to swallow than it should have. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

You chuckled. “If you don’t want to—”

“I do,” he reassured, his voice earnest.

Your smiled grew. “Okay.” You stepped and waved him in with you. “C’mon.” You noticed the way that he still had his jacket and gloves on when you came back out of the kitchen with a bottle in each hand. You handed one over to him. “Nothing fancy, but it’s also usually just me drinking them, so…”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s fine.”

There were a few beats of silence, each of you sipping out of your bottles before you said, “You don’t do this a lot, do you?”

His eyes widened for a moment, slight panic. “What?”

Your smile was warm as you gestured with your hand that held the bottle. “This. Dates. Not…not your thing, is it?”

He held the bottle between both his hands. “I’m…out of practice, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “That noticeable?”

You shook your head. “Not really. You just seemed, I don’t know, a little nervous. And I don’t know why a guy who looks like you would have any reason to be nervous on a date other than…”

“Other than I don’t go on them,” he finished with a soft laugh.

Your face heated up as you smiled. “Kinda.”

“How’d I do?” he asked, mostly joking.

You stepped in closer to him, noticing a different kind of tension in his body. “You’re doing great.”

He huffed out a laugh but it was much softer than he intended, betraying more of his real feelings than he bargained for. “This part?” He made a small gesture between you. “This part I’m really,” he forced out a puff of air through his teeth, “yeah.”

There was a flutter of butterflies in your stomach, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Want some help?”

He laughed but he didn’t say no, didn’t move away. He swallowed hard as you took the bottle from his hand and set them both on the coffee table in your living room. He was fighting hard to say something—ideally something smooth but at this point he would’ve settled for just about anything. Within seconds you were standing close to him again, bodies a breath away from being pressed flush against each other. Your hands rested on his chest for a moment, and you waited to see if he would change his mind and pull away—you were giving him the chance. But then you felt his hands tentatively land on your hips and you smiled, your body easing against his. You brought one hand up to the side of his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“Not so bad,” you asked softly, “right?”

He shook his head, finally forcing out a quiet, “No, it’s not.”

You smiled and leaned in, lightly pressing your lips to his. It was delicate, fleeting—you were pulling away as quickly as you’d leaned in. The sliver of space left between your lips and his was the silent ask for him to let you know if this was the end of the night or not. He could pull away from you, no harm no foul, or he could lean in and kiss you again and figure it out from there.

It felt like you were both holding your breath for a moment, faces just too close to be able to get a good look in each other’s eyes. You were about to pull back to really look at him when he leaned in and kissed you, more conviction than the quick gesture from before. You readily gave into him, hand sliding from his cheek to the back of his head to keep him pulled to you. As his lips moved against yours, one of his hands slid so that it was resting at the center of the small of your back.

The two of you stayed like that in the middle of your living room, all locking lips and wandering hands. You would’ve let the entire night fall away spent just like that and been more than fine with it. When the two of you finally came back up for air, when Bucky pulled away from you enough to really look into your eyes, you saw that more than anything he was surprised. Maybe it was at you, maybe it was at himself, but regardless it was there. Underneath that, though, you could see that there was something more. His hand that wasn’t on the small of your back came up to cup your chin, the leather of his gloves smooth to the touch against your skin. He tilted your chin just slightly and then your lips were back on his again.

Out of instinct you tugged down the zipper of his jacket. Your hands came up to his shoulders, getting ready to push his jacket down off of them. It was only then that he pulled away from you again, breathless as he desperately searched your face.

“What?” you asked gently, pausing your movements.

“Nothing, nothing. I,” he pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting…I just…”

“If it’s too much,” you said, taking a small step back, “we can—”

“No,” he stopped you short, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He took a breath. “Do you know? Who I am?”

You chuckled. “You’re friends with Iron Man and Falcon. I,” you shrugged, “I connected some dots along the way.”

He laughed, a sound of relief. “A lot of people don’t…you know…”

“A lot of people don’t have people from The Avengers dropping off school snacks once a week.” You paused and let both of you laugh. Allowing your tone to get a little more serious, you said, “I know, Bucky,” you moved once more to push his jacket down off his shoulders, “and it’s okay.”

He allowed you to do it, allowed his jacket to drop to the floor. Even with the long-sleeve shirt that he had on underneath, you could see the difference between his arms. You brought your hands to his, helping him pull the gloves off next. He was holding his breath—you could tell. When his gloves were off you ran your fingers along each of his palms, skin and metal, with equal delicate care.

When you looked into his eyes again you saw the way he was looking at you—bewildered, eager. You brought one hand back to his face again, urging him back towards you. It was a cue that he gladly took, kissing you with fervor. His hands were on your sides, and when he felt the way your other hand was running up his arm, he couldn’t stop himself, from letting his hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

It’d been so long, he realized as his hands roamed your sides and back, since he’d last felt someone like this. When your fingers slid underneath the collar of his shirt, splaying across what they could reach where the nape of his neck turned stretched into his shoulders, he also realized that it’d been a long time since he’d let someone feel him like this too.

All the nerves, the tension of the night, it all started to melt away as he felt you reaching for the bottom hem of his shirt to pull off over his head. He didn’t want to stop you, and he knew that that meant something. Maybe they’d all been right—maybe there was something to letting someone else in again. As he felt the warmth of your palms against his skin, he could only hope that the rest of it felt this good too.

#connect4au #alternate juneiverse #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #x reader #x reader fic #bucky barnes event #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[bangchansgirlsblog]

my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!

Can we turn back time?

Warnings: blood, tragic, angst, accident.

Summary: ^^ Requested

A/N: hey baby :) not the best :/ butttt I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.

**

Her heart was beating at a fast pace. Why was he not understanding what she was trying to say?

“You always come home late Chan! I thought I could have this one night. This one night to ourselves but you chose to go drinking instead?!” She poured her heart out as she stared at her idol boyfriend.

“Please Y/n now now okay? I get you wanna talk but can I please just go to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow,” he pleaded as he put down his black leather jacket on the couch.

His curls sat neatly on his head and his black shirt fitting him perfectly and his jeans neatly ironed.

“Chan it feels like you don’t love me anymore!”

“Well maybe I don’t, okay?!” He got up and yelled. His anger was now full on visible as he aggressively slammed his hands on the table.

She stood there looking at him shocked. Tears pricking through her eyes. What was this mess?

His eyes softened as looked her scared figure. “I- I didn’t mean too,”

“Save it Chan.” She sobbed. Her hand was fiddling with her promise ring that Chan has gifted her on their 2 year anniversary. It was the most beautiful ring that she has laid her eyes on but as time went on she realized it was just a ring it was a stress reliever because anytime she was sad, frustrated, mad or confused she would play with the ring on her finger.

“Why can’t you see the things you keep doing hurt me Chan?” She sobbed and looked up at him. Praying that somehow she can find answers.

“I-“ he took a deep breathe trying to keep his own tears in, “I’m failing okay? Can you just leave me alone? Please?” He took a shaky breath before taking a step back and grabbing his jacket.

“Am I a burden now?” Her chest tightened. Chan couldn’t look at her. He had no courage, no strength.

“I’m going upstairs,” he simply said and walked past her.

She wanted to stop him, beg him to hold her, beg him to be there for her but the pain in her chest told her otherwise. She looked so silly, like a kicked puppy.

She wiped her tears and walked over to grab her shoes before leaving her house totally forgetting her phone and keys.

**

It was dark and cold. The sun had officially set and people were either out having dinner or rushing home from work.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched the couples sitting outside restaurants talking and laughing.

She felt empty, she felt deceived. Chan was the perfect boyfriend. He made sure of it but when they started becoming a hit he started slowly pushing her to the side leaving her at home and going out to drink and party or he would be locked up in the studio trying to make new songs.

She was lost without him. She had created her whole routine off of him and now she would wakeup every morning feelings lost not knowing what to do.

Her mind was runnning so fast that she couldn’t keep up. The tears in her eyes were were blurring her vision as she took quick steps to the park.

It wasn’t far. That was always her safe space. Everytime she would get overwhelmed or exhausted she would run away and hide behind the big old oak tree down by the river next to the park.

It was a little foggy, she couldn’t see anything but Chan’s loud voice kept playing in her head until she heard a loud screech. She looked to the side but it was too late. A painful scream left her body as she watched the car crash into her body.

She didn’t feel pain all she could hear was a ringing sound then a few sirens before everything went quiet.

**

“199 what is your emergency?”

“I-I crashed into someone, help! Please! I don’t know what to do-“

“Okay sir is she breathing? I need you to calm down and tell me what happened,”

“Y-yes she’s still breathing, I- I was driving and she just stepped infront of the car, I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed as panic was filling his chest.

He looked down at the frail body, blood was everywhere and yet he still didn’t pass out. He tried to put pressure on the area that was bleeding the most but it wasn’t working. Blood was still gushing out of her.

She looked familiar tho, he thought.

“Sir, I’ve sent an ambulance. I just need you to keep breathing and tell me if she stops breathing. Keep your hand on the wound,” the dispatcher kept telling him over and over again.

“Oh God this is a lot of blood. Please God, please don’t let her die,” he whispered as he looked up at the car that was parked by them.

It felt like hours until he felt like who could breathe. He heard the sirens. They were here. The paramedics were finally here.

**

“C’mon Y/n please pick up,” Chan cursed at himself as he walked back and forth in the living room.

He was now in sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair wet from the shower.

When he had come downstairs he saw no sight of Y/n and at first he thought that maybe she had gone for a breather so he decided to do some work knowing that she wouldn’t pick up his phone even if he had tried to call so he just chose to distract himself.

He felt guilty for the fight they had. It was chewing him alive but he knew it was his fault and he needed to make it up. As time kept passing by; 30 minutes turned into 2 hours.

He started to feel uneasy so he decided to try her phone but she wasn’t picking. He called all the boys at the dorm asking if she was with them but they said they hadn’t seen her then he called her bestfriend and she too hadn’t seen her. That’s when the panic started to set in.

He called her phone over and over again while making sure to text her too. He rushed upstairs to grab his crocs and that’s when he saw her phone on the night stand table.

“Shit, Y/n,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his car keys.

He put on his crocs and rundown the stairs and that’s when he got a call from his manager.

“What is it Soon-hoo, I can’t really-“

“Chan we need to get to the hospital now,” he said in a panic. Chan’s blood went cold as he could hear shuffling in the background.

“W-what is it? What happened?!” He managed to say.

“It’s Y/n Chan,” Chan’s senses came to a hold. Everyhting around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, “she got run over Chan, I’m coming to pick you up,” their manager said as he started the car.

All Chan could hear was a ringing sound as he stared at the blank floor. Tears running down his cheeks as his heart was beating faster.

______

Don’t forget to reblog😋

#skz imagines #skz comfort #skz x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x y/n #skz x you #bangchansgfblog #skz stay #skz drabbles #straykids #straykids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids comfort #bangchan angst #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader

[babygorewhore]

Prey

Part one

Part two

After text messages from Rafe Cameron who completely ruined your night at his party, he knows every move you make and asserts his intentions through text messages. This starts a game to see how far Rafe will go to make you his, even if that means threats of punishments.

The horny demon took over with this guys. WC. 4,500

Warnings! Not a ton of plot. Dark! Rafe! Stalking! Panty stealing! Perv Rafe! Idk if she’s considered kind of bimbo because she’ caves in easily or what. Take it as you will. Female and male masterbation! Drug use,threats of violence and actual violence! Gun play! BDSM themes! One use of the Daddy! Choking!Degrading! Drinking! Hate fucking! spanking! unprotected sex! Reader is alternative but clothing is relatively generalized so it’s still inclusive. Damn that’s a lot of warnings.

Two days since your last text from Rafe Cameron. He knew about breakfast with John B. You tried not to check your phone as often as you wanted but the anxiety was hard to ignore. It was so insane. He just decided he wanted you after a bet. Why?

You kept tearing apart your room for any sign of a camera, microphone and you even taped the camera of your laptop for good measure. Maybe if you stayed home, that would be the best. But he knew what was going on. How?

John B asked you if you wanted to go to their traditional bonfire with the Pouges. You wanted to say no but maybe spending time with them would deter Rafe from his apparent need to text you vile things. You’d have a barrier. Surely, he couldn’t scare them all off.

It wasn’t as hot in the evening and you were thankful for that. Sarah gave you an extra pair of flip flops, but she did make sure they were black. You wore them and a black mid thigh dress. It was flowy and comfortable. But it was missing something as you sat down on a beach chair.

You left your underwear at home, on your bed. It was a test. To see if he really was getting in your house or he would go that far. It was a really bold move but you wanted bait him. Maybe if he broke in, you’d have something to report.

“Earth to you-“ A hand waved in front of your face.

“Oh, sorry.” You chuckled and adjusted your skirt. “What were you saying?”

“How are you? Since the whole bet thing happened?” Kie asked and you breathed heavily. This was the last thing you wanted to talk about. Apparently just with the videos disappearing wasn’t enough. “I’m okay. Doubtful I’ll ever swim in a pool again.” You started twirling the end of your hair nervously as time ticked.

No text yet. Maybe this was working. Maybe he was bluffing.

“We’ll kick his ass. Piece a shit picking on a Pouge.” JJ crushed a beer can and glared. “I’m sick of him getting away with it. We need to do something.”

“My brothers crazy. He would probably kill you.” Sarah pointed out and leaned further into John B.

“The fuck he would! He’s just some rich little punk whose never been put in his place.” JJ argued and you started to panic inside.

That was the furthest thing from the truth. You knew Rafe wasn’t just some punk. You didn’t even know him but you trusted your instincts.

“Guys, really. It’s okay. They’re taken down and it’s what I needed. I don’t need protection.” You insisted. God the suspense was killing you. Were you an idiot? Probably.

“Something weird happened today,” John B interrupted, “When I got into the car before her, I had this weird feeling someone was watching me,”

He started but you tuned him out as the night went on. You still didn't mention the texts. You didn’t wanna stir up anymore threats from JJ. You thought about the way he kissed that girl. His big hands roaming all over her hips and ass. It was so wrong for you to think about that considering how much of a dick he was.

But you couldn’t help it.

You were also scared shitless when you closed your bedroom door after you both arrived home, Sarah joining John B. You didn’t want to see that…so you locked your door.

You covered your mouth with both hands when you saw your panties. They were on your pillow and you could see even from here, they were wet and drying on the sides. Your bed was messy, your drawers moved open.

He had been here.

You carefully moved closer, gingerly lifting them. The creamy substance was evident on what it was. He came on it. And from the way it was almost dripping, multiple times. You dropped it on the floor and dug in your dresser.

All your panties were gone. Your mouth was wide open with shock.

You stepped forward, prepared to tell John B that Rafe Cameron broke into his home when your phone finally buzzed.

Frantically you brought it to your face.

“Put them on.”

Oh no. Was he serious? How did he know-there must have been a camera. Where was it?

“Put it on, or I’ll kill him.”

“You wouldn’t.” You speedily responded. Growing angry. How dare he threatened him. Just to get what he wanted in his perverted mind. “That’s a pussy ass threat.”

“Who says it’s a threat? I know exactly where he goes. When he goes. And who he talks too. I know everything about this place. And I know everything about you.”

Chills ran down your spine.

“I don’t believe you.” You started breathing heavier as you clutched at your chest. He wasn’t joking. You knew that. If he was rich enough to afford that house without a second glance, surely he could pull this off.

“You graduated with impressive grades, you’re an only child, you have a habit of reading kinky porn, your parents owned a music store for three decades. John B is your cousin on your Mothers side and you…you’ve only had one boyfriend. Chris. From high school.”

Your knees almost gave out. Everything was true. Not all of those things were even on your instagram. Fuck, not even your FRIENDS knew some of that shit. How did he find out? Did he run some sort of-

“You ran a fucking background check on me?” You typed in all caps, your thumbs slapping on the screen. “ARE YOU INSANE? JUST STOP IT AND DON'T THREATEN JOHN B!”

“Then put them on.”

You weren’t getting out of this. “Okay if I put them on, what then?”

“Lay down on the bed.”

You slithered them on, his cum coating your pussy as you rubbed your thighs together. Maybe it was your own fault with this experiment but he would have done it anyway.

Your back met the top of the covers and you had the image of his leaking cock around the material. Spilling onto the silk and lace. You spread your legs, assuming that’s what he wanted.

“No, you’re not allowed to touch yourself or cum. Not unless I’m inside you with my cock, fingers or tongue. This is just showing your pussy exactly who gets to cum in it. The longer you fight this, I’ll punish you. And I don’t think you’ll like that.”

“Punish me?”

“That’s what I said. If you’re not a good girl, then your little pouge friends are gonna pay. Do you understand me?”

You wanted so badly to tell him to fuck off. “No I don’t speak asshole, I did it. I put them on and now you leave me alone.”

You closed your phone and decided you wouldn’t listen to anything he said. Laying back down, you pulled off the underwear easily and it’s slick smeared on your inner thighs.

You were pent up from sadness, anger and now spite. If he was watching, then you’d put on a fucking show. Spreading your legs, your fingers delicately teasing your cunt and you started circling your clit. You twitched and clenched around the air as your own wetness combined with his. He couldn’t possibly read your thoughts. His muscular arms would hold the headboard as he pounded into you.

You liked challenging him. Secretly, that’s one of the things that made you wet. Talking back to him. Your core tightened as your speed increased before you slipped two small fingers inside, curling them up. They couldn’t reach the spot you wanted. You tried to move at a different angle before settling on just playing with your clit.

You curled up when you came, harder than usual and you bit your lip to keep from making too much noise.

After calming, you hesitated before clicking on your phone.

“Oh, pretty girl. I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

That was all he said.

Now, you were trembling again. The threat echoed. You started biting your nails. What would happen? What punishment was he talking about?

It wasn’t like he would break in with John B here or would he? He wasn’t concerned about your cousin in the slightest.

You took some initiative. If he knew so much about you, you could return the favor. Have something on him.

You googled his name.

Rafe Cameron, eldest and only son holding Cameron’s name after Ward and Rose Cameron’s passing.

Rafe Cameron, under thirty CEO bringing numbers to the maximum within two years.

You sighed, only getting a superficial history of his age and family line. Huffing, you needed more. There was one option. You went to instagram and found his official and only account. Your mouth went dry. His photos consisted of golf yards, parties and two photos of him wearing a suit next to a giant table in an office that looked like it was in the future.

Absolutely nothing. Nothing to go on. And nothing to rub in his face. Of course.

An idea came to you. Maybe you couldn’t find anything online. But you had an entire group of rebels who could tell you everything you needed to know. You smirked. Finally, you could get back at him.

“So, John B, was it…hard to be Sarah’s boyfriend? I mean the war between Pouges and Kooks seems pretty intense.” You sat at the dock while he tackled some sort of contraption, working back and forth between boats. It was a half lie when you said you wanted to go with him while he worked.

But you needed information. You didn’t get a text yet but you knew that wasn’t defeat on his part.

“For a while,yeah. Topper made it his mission to come after me. We got into it a few times, then he pushed me. I broke my wrist. Rafe…it’s complicated.”

You quirked an eyebrow, trying not to look too interested. “How?” For good measure, you played with the end of your skirt. All your panties were gone and you were trying not to shift every five seconds.

“Rafe’s crazy. He used to be this out of control, frat boy cocaine addict and he was,” John B stops moving, “Dead set on destroying us. Came at us with guns. He’s dangerous but now he’s got money. All the money.”

Your heart fluttered. And now, Rafe had his sights on you.

“What about their other sister..?”

“She lives with him. He almost shipped her off to boarding school but I guess she’s his one soft spot. Sarah talks to her sometimes. That’s why I was upset you went to that party. They’re bad people. Stay away from him.” His warning makes you nod.

But would he stay away from you?

A week later, you arrived at the Pouge spot with John B that was even marked by a tree they carved. You carried a cooler of booze as you got closer to the circle but you, John B and Sarah realized Pope and JJ were missing

You were all searching for at least ten minutes now, you called out his name, cupping your hands. “Pope! JJ! Where are you?”

Your converse were getting in the way of the sand and you finally stopped being stubborn, removing them as you maneuver through the woods. You were alone and it felt uncomfortable.

The moon was illuminating your ring clad fingers as a snap of a branch caught your attention. “Pope?”

A large strong hand covered your mouth and you eyes widened, you were being yanked off the ground and carried off. “Mm-he-“ You tried to form words but the hand pressed harder. You kicked, flailed but to no avail.

The assailant dragged you off to a darker corner where you saw a unconscious Pope and JJ lying on the ground as you were pushed against a tree.

Rafe stood in front of you, even in the darkness you could still see the desire and anger in his eyes. “Scream and I’ll kill them.” He growled. “Can I trust you?”

You nodded rapidly, glancing between him and your friends.

“Good girl,” He approved, his hand sliding to your throat. He didn’t even bother wearing black to blend in. His beige shirt was layered with another light jacket and dark jeans.

Rafe’s hair was in his eyes and he leaned in closer. “I told you. I’d punish you if you didn’t do as your told.” Your core fluttered. You knew it shouldn’t but his voice was rasping as his hand tightened. He pulled something out of his pocket.

A pair of red panties. He shoved them into your mouth, far enough you gaged. “Stay fucking still.” You knew if you didn’t listen he would hurt them, he proved that.

Pope and JJ had bruises, swollen eyes and bloody noses. But they were breathing. You started jerking around, trying to gain some sort of release from his hold when Rafe yanked out a gun. You gasped, the sound muffled. “Yeah? You see that?” He pointed it at them. “Do you think I’m kidding?”

Rafe pulled out the panties, a string of drool escaping from your mouth. “Answer me.”

“No-I know you’re not kidding.” Tears came from your eyes but you tried to pull them back.

“My poor little angel, not so tough now, are you?”

“Fuck you-“ Another attempt to defy, fake like you weren’t as scared as you truly were. “You’re bluffing.”

He pressed you harder against the wood. His iron clad muscles pinning you hard enough it hurt. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.” Then he moved the gun between your shorts. Grazing against your jean covered pussy.

“This is fucking real, princess.” Rafe started smirking. “Move around a little bit. Give me a hint of how well you can bounce on a dick.”

Your face became hot but you obeyed without thinking. You circled your hips, holding your breath and praying the gun wouldn’t go off. He nodded, his lips nearing yours and your mouth parted.

“Rafe-Why? Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this?” You whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot of your neck. They were warm and soft in contrast to the gun rubbing against your pussy.

“Because you’re mine. That first day I saw you. I was going to have you. John B couldn’t hoard away something that belonged to me.” You wanted to shake your head but he started sucking the connection between your shoulder and neck.

That’s why he stared at you. That’s why he even started the bet in the first place.

“I liked how you stood out with your fucking band shirt and converse you won’t stop wearing. And this,” He pulled back to your displeasure and tapped the gun against your cunt.

“That belongs to me too. I’m gonna walk away, you’re going to yell to your cousin you found them. Feel free to scream and pretend you’re not soaking wet. And you’re going to be a good girl again, aren’t you? You gonna to listen to daddy?”

“Yes.” He stepped away, taking your panties with him. He scanned the scene, nodding behind you.

“Don’t disobey me. This can get so much worse,” With his final warning, Rafe started walking backward before he disappeared.

You waited a few seconds to collect yourself. He teased you but not enough to make you cum. Just enough to mark his territory and scare you.

“J-John B!” You weakly called out. “I found them!”

He arrived in seconds with Sarah right behind him.

John B, Sarah and Kie panicked, trying to wake JJ and Pope. You hastily wiped your face and shook your hair loose.

“I-I just found them like that. I’ve been searching the whole time,” You lied, hoping your voice was steadier than how you felt.

You stayed quiet as they woke by the fire. Your knee bouncing as flashbacks of how the gun felt, Rafes lips. His warnings and worse. How much you liked it.

When no one was looking, too busy planning their wild accusations downfall, you took out your phone. He had texted you.

“Behave.”

You pressed your knees together, concealing your phone behind them. “What will it take for you to leave them alone?”

“That’s a dangerous question, little girl.”

You had to change your tactic. The last thing you wanted was for him to actually shoot them.

“When will I see you again? I don’t want you to break in anymore. If you want something, just take it.” Oh no, the words slipped out before you could even think.

Two minutes. Five minutes. Ten minutes went by.

An hour.

“Tomorrow. My house. 8pm. Wear what’s in the box in your bedroom. I’ll have someone pick you up.”

The tense drive home couldn’t have ended sooner as you stepped in your bedroom. Continuing to lie to your cousin about what happened in the woods. You knew he wasn’t stupid. Eventually he would catch on that something was happening. But his life probably depended on it. This was going too far.

You were so stupid for opening the white small box on the center of your bed.

Lifting the lid, your eyes widened as you pulled out a black lace shirt, matching bra, a thong and shorts that would barely cover your ass. Knee socks and connecting garter belts. But the most toe curling item in the box was a pair of black handcuffs. Expensive kind.

You held them to your chest. You’d have to wear something over them to get past John B. Your conscience fought you, insisting to tell John B. Rafe almost killed his friends.

But he felt so good. It was so wrong that it was right. You almost didn’t care right now. He was obsessed with you and you weren’t any better. The way you spent time trying to find information, the way you listened to every word he said. He was breaking you down. You almost didn’t recognize the person you were when you arrived.

Rafe Cameron was intoxicating and you’d only seen him twice.

Third times the charm right?

He had his own personal fucking driver pick you up the next night. You left when John B was passed out in his room, worn out from a day at the docks. You slipped on an oversized black shirt long enough to hit your thighs as you climbed into the car. You were disappointed that there were no texts today but you had a feeling he was going to make up for it. Or else you’d face another punishment.

The drive was quiet but when you arrived at his house it wasn’t. Another wild party scene was before you, the same changing colored lights on the outside and consistently bright on the balcony. As you got out of the car and started walking, this time wearing your high heels. Only this time you were wearing a hand selected piece from the King Of Kooks.

You hoped you could slip in easily through the front door silently but someone opened the door. He was shorter than Rafe, dark brown hair, wearing a wife beater and shorts. “My bad, come on in.” He ushered you in with a wave and you cringed.

Obviously he knew you. Whether from Rafe or the videos.

“And you’re…?”

“Just like Country club not to mention anyone else. Barry.” He gave you a nod. “He’s up there.”

You couldn’t help but shiver as everyone was dancing, drinking and making their way to the outdoor pool. You understood this could be another set up.

Barry dipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a bag full of cocaine, apparently offering you some.

“I’ll pass,” You declined and forced yourself to smile and calm your nerves. You could do this. You had too

You wanted too.

Climbing the stairs in high heels was difficult enough but fighting a crowd made it even harder. You couldn’t hardly concentrate and you had the urge to plug your ears to muffle the noise.

Once you reached the top, close to the balcony, your phone buzzed. Embarrassingly, you yanked it out of your clutch.

“Colder.” You jerked your head around, looking for any sign of him. No one. He wasn’t here. No one looked even close to him.

You went left towards another lounge, peering inside the darker room where they were dancing.

“Even colder.”

Okay, you were very clearly not in the right direction.

But you needed something to give you a boost. Marching towards a brunette young man holding two cups, you reached out your hand. “Can I have that?” He stammered but handed it over.

Without even knowing the content, you gulped it down before gagging. Whatever concoction was strong and had you coughing.

But then you took the other one. “Hey!” He protested but you ignored him, going to the opposite side.

You threw them both on the ground, a surge of electricity going through your veins.

“Warmer.” It said when you fished out your phone from your bra.

You resisted wiping your mouth, not wanting to ruin your makeup. Your legs carried you down a hallway, the noise growing into a quieter thump against the walls. There were no photos. Almost no signs of living if you imagined the guests gone. The clacking of your shoes neared the first door.

“Hot. Almost there.”

Swallowing, you walked past the second door.

“Hotter.”

You breathed like you were blowing out a candle as you drew to the third door.

“Open it, pretty girl.”

The alcohol must have given you an extra boost as you opened the door roughly, your lips forming a natural pout as you took in Rafe standing beside a bed. He was wearing a three quarter length white shirt with small strips and the same dark jeans as he did in the woods. His hair was messy, like he constantly ran his fingers through it.

His entire body radiated danger, lust and control.

But his eyes held a fire, one you were terrified and eager to provoke.

To the right of him was a large desk with several monitors and a laptop. Your mouth parted into a gasp when you saw they were all live feeds.

One of them was outside your room, the others were at the docks and the rest were of his own home. That’s how he was watching you.

“You-you’ve really been stalking me.” You whispered.

“It’s really not that hard. You make it too easy.” He mused with a low voice. “But I’m-I’m having a hard time understanding why you’re wearing something other than what I gave you.”

“Don’t change the subject, Rafe. This isn’t okay. You’re going to stop. I did everything you wanted. Now you leave John b and the rest alone.” Your voice wasn’t steady. From nervousness and the drinks.

And he knew that from the way a smirk formed on his pink lips. “But not you?” He clicked his tongue. “Naughty girl. You don’t want me to leave you alone. I didn’t forget our last…meeting.” His eyes lingered around your hips. “With a gun to your pussy.”

“No, no, stop. I don’t know-I don’t like you.”

Rafe only stepped closer, inching towards you. “Your body does.. Your pussy love our little games. You’ve had so many chances to run. Not that they would work-“ He chuckled darkly. “But you’re doing everything I want you too.”

His hand shot out and ripped the shirt in half. You shrieked, your legs almost buckling as your body was exposed. Rafes breathed in the scent of your perfume as he roamed with his fingers the lingerie, his palms falling to your tits, squeezing before he gripped your waist and spun you around. Your ass against his cock.

“Move like you bounced on my gun,” He ordered against your ear, his warm breath and you could feel his lips trace the side of your jaw.

All your thoughts disappeared as he guided you to grind against him, your pussy dampening the material as your eyes drifted shut. His own breathing quickened as your hand flew behind to palm him.

“Dirty slut, you’re so scared but I know you’re fucking dripping.” He was so tall that he could slip his hand easily between your legs and gather the slick leaking from your center. He then shoved it in your mouth, forcing you to suck.

“That’s all fucking mine, I don’t care if you hate me. I want you to fucking hate me. You like that I stalked you. Watch you, that I know everything.” He was growing more aggressive as he threw you face down on the bed, ripping off your shorts, he slapped your ass hard enough you jolted.

You heard his belt and pants drop as he manhandled you, wrapping your hair around his free hand as you felt his dick line up to your pussy. “Say you hate me,” He spat and slammed into you without warning.

You almost screamed from the stretch and fullness as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t even breathe from the hold he had on your hair, as you started rubbing your clit. “I-“ You tried, barely managing to squeak.

“Say it!” He yelled, slapping your ass again and you fell on your hands.

“I hate you!” You gasped for air and he pushed your head down. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Your core clenched around him as your stomach tightened, you were so close, so fucking close. Rafe moaned deeply, his movements slowing but still brutal.

He spilled into you and you came right after. Sweat dripped from your face as you jerked. Your mouth was still open, spit gathering and you wiped it off. Your breathing slowed as he pulled out, releasing you to flop on the mattress. Your makeup stains the white comforter.

Trying to calm down and assess the situation you got yourself into, you heard Rafe clear his throat in an expected manner.

You crawled around as he pulled up his pants. “I hope you liked that, because that’s the last time you get to cum tonight.”

“W-“

“You forgot to bring the handcuffs.” You almost fainted. Half from being cock drunk, still spilling from both fluids and half from horror.

Rafe only gave you a very threatening smile. “But don’t worry. No one is getting through that door. And besides, even if they tried, I can see every move they make.” He pointed to the monitors.

“I’m nowhere done with you yet.”

Tagging @scene-and-dandylover @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @daivny @slvt4jamesmarch @imyourdaninow @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @chrrymunson @take-everything-you-can @reidsbtch

Please let me know if I forgot anyone! Comment if you wanna be tagged in future Rafe or all my fics!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron x female reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #outer banks #outer banks smut #rafe cameron fanfiction

[blueicequeen19]

Don’t Play Games

Warnings: JJ being a cocky fucker, teasing, creampie, oral, orgasm denial

JJ Maybank had an exhibition kink and wasn’t afraid to prove it. The guy wasn’t even remotely shy about his needs and he was far more adventurous than anyone you’d ever been with. You’d quickly learned to overcome any insecurities you might’ve had because he insisted on worshipping you at all hours of the day, no matter where you were.

Right now he had you bent over the counter in the Chateau while your friend group was watching a movie less than ten feet away. His hand over your mouth was the only thing keeping you from crying out in bliss as he stroked the sweet spot deep inside you at a slow and steady pace.

“If only you could see how pathetic you look, taking me like a good little slut. This pussy nice and wet just for me. I bet it feels good having me this deep, doesn’t it?” JJ rasps in your ear, his hips getting flush with your ass as he slides in over and over again. Your release was so close but so far away.

“You wanna cum, baby? You wanna soak my cock then lick it off later when the lights go out?” You nod the best you can with his hand squeezing your cheeks. When he rolls his hips, yours threaten to roll back in your head.

“I have a better idea.” JJ’s free hand slides between your legs, stroking your clit until your legs nearly buckle only to stop abruptly. You whine softly against his hand as he leaves you empty and aching, zipping up his shorts with a taunting smirk.

“Now let’s see who can keep their hands off who during this movie.” JJ pulls your dress back down and turns your body, moving in for a kiss that you avoid with an annoyed look.

“You’re an asshole.” You bite out, your core aching with need as you try to push past him. JJ pulls you in for a panty dropping kiss that leaves you weak and breathless before pulling back with a wicked grin. You let him walk away as you glared at his back, ready to make him pay and his balls blue by the end of the movie.

It didn’t take long before the intense thriller on screen captured everyone’s attention but JJ’s. That was entirely your fault.

You kept an eye on him from the corner of your eye but only because you kept teasing him. He was on one side of the small loveseat and you were on the other. You took the opportunity to sit sideways on your knees so you could flash him your bare pussy when he least expected it. The first time his eyes nearly popped out and he sat up like he was moments away from lunging. Then he quickly looked around the room at his friends to make sure no one had noticed before shooting you a dirty look.

You faked innocence as you quickly tucked your dress back down. A few more minutes passed as you pretended to watch the movie, feeling JJ’s eyes and hunger. You slowly and discreetly tug your dress back up to expose your pussy to him again. It was hard not to smirk over the torture you caused him as he sank deeper into the loveseat, spreading his legs wide in attempt to ease the ache he no doubt felt. His hand tugged at his unruly blonde hair as he released a long exhale while fighting to tear his eyes of your exposed cunt.

When he took out his phone after you’d carefully covered yourself again, you knew you were in trouble. Your own phone lit up with a text and you bit back a smirk.

“Think I won’t sink knuckle deep in that pussy right now?” Your pussy walls pulsed at his crude words and you bit your lip.

“Think I won’t make you watch as I get myself off?” You sent back, followed by a nude you’d sent him earlier in the week. JJ’s expression hardened when he opened the message, his eyes snapping in your direction with a warning glare. You shrugged, sitting your phone down and turning your attention back to the movie.

All of your friends were asleep except Sarah as she nervously bit at her nails, eyes glued to the screen while John B snored softly on her shoulder. Sarah was just as brazen as you were so you didn’t feel bad when turning more on your side to flash JJ again. His eyes burned into you as you reached your hand back to touch your slick slit. JJ’s expression darkened but you refused to back down.

You dipped two fingers inside yourself, letting your head fall back against the couch cushion while you bit your bottom lip. After slowly fingering yourself for a moment, you withdrew your hand as you locked eyes with him and popped the two fingers in your mouth. His eyes widened for a moment before his expression turned dark and he pointed at the hallway with a silent demand.

You shook your head, making a show as you licked your fingers clean before tugging your dress back down to watch the movie.

By the time the movie was over, everyone was passed out but the two of you. JJ was antsy and unable to sit still in his seat. His hair was a mess where he kept dragging his fingers through it and his lip chewed raw. As soon as you stood up once the credits began to roll, he was roughly taking your arm and leading you down the hall.

JJ didn’t say one word or bother to flip the lights on when the bedroom door shut. You reached for him in the dark but he spun you around and shoved you down on the bed. He was on top of you in an instant, your dress hiked up and his cock between your cheeks. He wasn’t easy when he shoved inside you and his movements were rough.

His hand fisted your hair, shoving your face into the bedding as he pounded you like there was no tomorrow. Like you were nothing more than a hole for him to use. It was too much at once and you couldn’t get your bearings. You couldn’t reach your clit.

“Thought you could tease me and get away with it?” JJ growls in your ear, his chest pressed to your back as his hips hammer into you. You don’t get time to respond before a deep groan echos in your ear and you feel him finishing inside you. JJ quickly climbs off your body, leaving you dazed and confused as he rights himself.

“JJ, I swear—.”

“You’re in no position to make demands, baby.” JJ’s voice taunting while you roll over to face him.

“I didn’t cum.” You scoff, angry and humiliated that your plan backfired. JJ flashed that signature smile of his as he leaned down until you were almost nose to nose.

“You should’ve behaved. Bad girls don’t get to cum.” JJ leaned in to kiss you but you jerked back, rolling your lip at him.

“Awe, no kiss? That’s fine.” JJ smirks before suddenly yanking you to the edge of the bed by your hips and dropping to his knees. His head is under your dress before you can protest, his torturous mouth sucking your clit hard until you see stars.

“Oh, J—.” Your back bows off the bed, your hands fisting the bedding as your orgasm barrels forward only for him to pull away at the last possible second. A pathetic whine leaves your lips as he raises to his full height with a devious smirk, your arousal glistening on his mouth and chin.

“Don’t get mad because the player plays the game better than you, baby. I’ll finish you when I think you’ve earned it. Now be a good girl and get our stuff so we can go home.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #obx2 #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks x reader #blueicequeen19 #jj maybank

[slushycoookie]

Roleplay Date ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Content: You and Miguel do some roleplay, mostly fluff, starts to get suggestive occasionally and near the end, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: Wanted to do a quick idea of you doing a role-play date with Miguel! Enjoy!

He should be here any minute now.

The time on your phone was your favorite thing to look at when you stepped into the bar. You tried to relax with a sip of your margarita, the slightly sour taste of apple dancing across your palate, but your mind kept wandering. How was this going to go? Would it be awkward? Or would it fail if someone tried to steal your man? You had a few other people try to talk to you while you sat but to your relief, disappeared when they saw you weren't that interested.

You had no reason to be nervous. Couples go on role-play dates all the time. You read their ideas and their experiences. It should be fun.

Thirty minutes passed and you saw your husband.

You caught your breath at his change of appearance. A green cardigan, with the top button undone. His white pants contrasted in color but somehow worked well with his black suede loafers. Miguel looked good. You always knew he could be, but this was a little different. You tried not to gawk as you sipped your drink again, pretending the menu was more interesting than anyone else. He wasn't too far from your seat but you caught a whiff of his cologne, earthy with sharp hints of mint. It's one you've never smelled before.

Miguel ordered a rum and coke as you tried to decide what to eat. Maybe some sliders? Or there was a sampling platter you could try. But you also saw sushi on the menu.

“Hi.”

You perked up, heart banging in your chest as you turned to him. He was even better up close. And…did he change his hair? It was parted to the side, not slicked back like his usual style. Miguel usually changes his hair on special occasions. You tried to hold back admiring his brown curls shining in the dim light as you remembered he spoke to you.

“Hi.” A light smile appeared on your face.

“Do you come here often?”

You bit your lip, wondering if you two should have developed a script. But you wanted the interaction to be natural since it's the first time roleplaying like this. “No, I don’t. This is my first time.”

“Alone?” Miguel raised an eyebrow as you nodded, “Someone like you shouldn’t be alone on a night like this.”

Curious, you played with your straw by swirling it in your drink, “What's someone like me?”

“Gorgeous.”

He was eyeing your outfit. A simple black dress that gave much attention to your cleavage. Paired with small matching black heels. You weren't the type to wear this sort of thing but you wanted to try something new. And give your husband something to stare at.

Your poker face was impenetrable, despite wanting to forget everything and immediately go into the hotel room. “You're gonna have to do better than that.”

Miguel smirked before signaling to the bartender that he would pay for anything you wanted for the rest of the night. She gave you a look to make sure you agreed and you nodded. He motioned to the seat beside you and you invited him to stay.

“I’m Miguel.” You gave him yours and he said it as if he’s never said it before. A tingle shot through your spine. “May I ask why you decided to go to the bar tonight?”

“I wanted a drink.” You shrugged, “And I heard this hotel was nice.”

“It is.” He took a sip of his drink, eyes never far from yours.

“Oh? You’ve been here before?”

“Many times. I’ve always been satisfied with the service when I go here on business.”

You hum in delight, “So you’re a businessman?”

“Not quite.” He gives a soft chuckle, “I’m a scientist, that unfortunately has to go on business trips.”

You knew that part about him. He always hated going on trips because that meant he’d be away from you. “What do you specialize in?”

“Genetics.” You had to hold back in smiling hard, seeing his eyes light up at any mention of his work. The conversation was interrupted momentarily when the bartender asked what you wanted to eat. You and Miguel decided to share a sushi platter with an assortment of flavors each of you could try.

And your margarita was also gone, so you decided to get a daiquiri, wanting something a little bit sweeter to combat the sourness you had.

“So you’re a geneticist?” You asked, picking the conversation back up, “That’s fascinating. I’ve never met any geneticists. Especially ones as good-looking as you. Must be in your genes.”

A flash of your husband came out as Miguel’s eyes lowered at your terrible joke. Even you snorted at your words. “Funny. So I’m guessing your profession is a comedian.”

“No way.” You shook your head, “Not by a long shot.”

“Thank god.”

You gasped, pretending to be insulted while watching him hold back a laugh behind his straw. “Rude.”

“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t have high hopes in your career after that joke.”

The air was light and comfortable. Any semblance of nervousness you had previously faded away. That could've just been the alcohol though.

“So since you specialize in genetics, you know all the good stuff. Punnett squares, why people with blue eyes are rare, that sort of thing.”

Miguel nodded, “Usually we're able to find all of your genetic markings through your blood.”

“I'm not scared of getting my blood drawn.” You confidently say, “You think you'd find anything good in my genes?”

He hums in thought, moving closer to slide his hand up your bare forearm, placing his thumb between your arm and bicep. His touch was warm, almost burning your skin up. “Maybe. As long as you hold still.”

“Only if you're gentle.” You let out a low sigh. Your husband staring directly into your eyes, rubbing his thumb against your skin. You're so close to fast-forwarding this date and getting in his pants.

It was to your luck that the food came, causing you and him to part so you could dine in. Husband mode came back as he handed you the wasabi. Your lips curled, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of it when he accidentally put a huge smear on his roll, eating it whole. You pictured his eyes tearing up and his face scrunching up was hilarious.

“You don't like wasabi?”

Miguel’s head shook with disdain, “Not a fan. It's too hot for my tastes.”

“That's because you put too much on there when you shouldn’t have-” You immediately shut your lips, trying to fix your words. “I mean, plenty of people put a lot on there. It’s a common mistake.”

He ignored your slip up, “Then can you show me how much is adequate for me?”

“Of course.” You took a little piece using your chopsticks, placing it on his sushi roll as if it were delicate. You watched as he ate the piece, shoulders lowered in satisfaction. “See, not that hot right?”

“Not at all.” He then asked about your job which you proceeded to describe as boring. Not as exciting as his geneticist one. While you did so, Miguel kept showing his husband side, making sure you had your fill. As he listened intently. The stranger façade started to fade as you two were starting to act like a married couple again. You’re sure anyone from a mile away could see it.

But you didn’t care. You were full, mind a little clouded from the alcohol and the night was winding down. The time on your phone was almost eleven at night.

Miguel slipped his black card to the bartender, paying for the meal and drinks. You gazed at his form, not believing that you were married to this man.

“Do you have a ride home?” He asked. You knew he made arrangements to book a room at the hotel, but knowing him he’d wanted to make sure the date ended on a satisfying note.

“I’m looking at it.”

His eyes went wide at the flirtatious line for a moment. “Bold, are we?”

“Maybe.” Your playful smirk drew him closer as he leaned into your ear.

“You can ride me in our room.”

You two sped walk towards the elevator. Miguel’s finger repeatedly pressed the down button to make it go faster. Your body was hot, breathing speeding up as you couldn’t hold on much longer. You never knew how slow elevators were when its doors creaked open. The two of you rushed inside and once it was closed, were immediately on each other.

Hot breaths, messy kisses, and hands groping every single part of your bodies filled the space. The cold steel wall was felt on your back as Miguel trapped you, his hard body pressed against your own. He hiked up your leg to wrap around his waist while sucking on your neck. Creating a few marks on your skin.

The dings from the elevator going up were the only thing keeping you together. Otherwise, you were sure he was going to fuck you inside.

“Wait.” Miguel parted, his face stained from your lipstick, hair messy from the exchange. “Do you have your ring?”

You nodded, getting it from your purse. Before you could put it on, he did it for you, slipping it through your ring finger where it belonged. He grabbed his own from his pocket, before slipping it on.

“That’s better.”

Just in time, the elevator stopped on your floor. Miguel picked you up with ease and dashed to the room to continue where you left off.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #slushycoookie writes

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 11)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 11 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

dinner with charles and the rest of your family comes with high expectations and heavy disappointments. one thing's for certain, lando's not going anywhere and neither are you

word count: 7.2k tags/warnings: implied smut, literally the worst translated french ever if someone wants to fix it by all means pls help me out, some sad tugs on the heart strings, i think thats it, also poorly edited

There were two sides to Lando Norris.

You already knew of the sweet and considerate side. The one that opened car doors for you, that took care of you even though you never asked to be cared for. This was the side of Lando that you fell hard for because he was all heart and cheeky grins and stupid eye rolls that had you blushing.

And then there was the side that you didn’t even know existed until you woke up to him leaving a trail of kisses down your body before slowly spreading your legs apart. The side that had you seeing stars and screaming his name before you could even register being awake. 

Lando was insatiable, to put it simply.

And you weren’t complaining.

How could you complain when he joined you in the shower and pressed his lips to your neck as he pinned you against the porcelain wall. Your cheek against the cold tile, the stream of hot water coming down from above, his cock so deep inside you that you relied on him to keep you upright. 

Yeah, you couldn’t complain.

Lando seemed to be on a mission to make you cum more times in twelve hours than you had in the last two years. He got so much pleasure from bringing you to the edge and watching as you spilled over.

You made sure to return the favour. Not even waiting until you were out of the bathroom before dropping down to your knees. Lando has one hand on the edge of the sink, the other hand tangled through your hair. Strings of expletives meshed so well with his encouraging words, telling you how fucking pretty you looked choking on his cock. 

And honestly, that first shower was a write-off. You eventually needed to push Lando out of the bathroom to give you the chance to actually get ready for the day.

It was hard for the two of you to keep your hands off each other and to be fair, you didn’t really try. Sure, you put on a show, but ten minutes in and you were by far more entertaining than whatever rom-com you had chosen.

The day got away from you, to say the least.

It wasn’t until Lando asked you what you wanted for dinner did you suddenly bolt upright on the couch, reaching for your phone to check the time.

Lando, who had his hand on the handle of the fridge, slowly backed away from it as he tried to gauge what was going through your head, “Okay, or we could order something?”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you stood up as you rushed to answer Arthurs text. He was already at your maman’s place and you couldn’t multitask to save your life so you didn’t even try to explain yourself to Lando until you sent Pascale a text saying that you had accidentally fallen asleep and are headed there now. It was a lie, but it was better than the alternative which would undoubtedly give her a heart attack.

“What’s up?” Lando asked, heading back towards you, eyeing your phone. 

You dragged your fingers through your hair, “I forgot I promised to go to my maman’s house for dinner.” You turned and headed down the hall, “I need to change..can you- I don’t have any clothes here do I?”

Lando followed you, picking up the mini skirt you abandoned last night and the top that could have quite literally doubled as a bra. All day you had been lounging around in Lando’s clothes, having completely forgotten about your dinner plans.

“Just you and your mum?” Lando asked, he stepped into his closet but there was no way he had anything that was appropriate for dinner.

“Um, and Arthur and Enzo,” you added quietly, finding a brush on top of his dresser and running it through your hair. You kept Charles’ name out of your mouth, not feeling up to bringing him into the conversation.

Lando stepped back into his room, eyebrows raised at your frantic actions, “Did you want me to drive you? We can stop at your place on the way so you can change.”

You didn’t just want him to drive you, you wanted him to join you. But to throw this on him so last second wasn’t fair. 

You accepted the ride to dinner, but you kept the invite to yourself. 

Lando waited in the car as you ran in and changed, making yourself more presentable. It took under five minutes to put something appropriate on and get rid of any signs that you and Lando had been nothing but tangled limbs and heated kisses and desperate moans for the last 12 hours. 

You were thankful that Lando was careful. Any marks that bruised your skin overnight weren’t visible to anyone other than you two. Some were darker than others, but you didn’t let yourself think of Lando’s lips exploring every inch of you, not while he was currently idling outside and waiting for your return.

When you slid back into the passenger seat, Lando waited before putting the car into drive. He nodded his head towards the phone that rested on the dash, your phone, that you had left while you ran inside. 

Not only that, but you left it unlocked.

You had nothing to hide, but that wasn’t the issue. The issue was Arthur had texted you twice since you stepped out of the car.

Charles is here btw, seems to be in a fine mood Are you bringing Lando?

When you looked up at Lando, he just had a smug little smile on his face. He wasn’t mad that you hadn’t invited him to dinner, nor was he upset that Charles was there after you purposely avoided saying his name.

“You told your brother about me?” Lando asked, finding the whole thing endearing. It was one thing if the drivers knew you were together, telling your family was entirely different.

“To an extent,” you shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “He knows we’ve been hanging out. I think a lot of people do.”

“Hanging out,” Lando repeated, mocking the naive term. 

“Well maybe if you asked me out I could tell him you’re my boyfriend.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so picky about me planning a grand gesture,” Lando flipped the sarcasm on you and you playfully pressed your hand to his cheek, pushing his face away from yours. 

“I deserve a grand gesture,” you told him.

Lando nodded in agreement, “But nothing embarrassing?”

“Nothing embarrassing.”

“Anything for the Littlest Leclerc.”

You positioned yourself on the seat so your upper half was practically leaning over the centre console. Lando’s smile had yet to vanish as his gaze darted to every inch of your face, landing on your lips before he glanced up to meet your eyes. 

Out of nowhere, you felt giddy. You felt the excitement of butterflies in your stomach. You looked at Lando and suddenly you wanted him to come to dinner. You wanted your mother to see him as someone other than a driver. You wanted him to get to know your other brothers. You wanted to introduce him to the part of your life that no one had ever seen before.

“Come with me,” your quiet request echoed through the car. “To dinner.”

Lando’s eyebrows raised in response. He wasn’t against the idea, but he wasn’t tripping over his words to agree either. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. “You don’t think it’s too soon to meet your family?”

“Well you’ve already met my mother,” you pointed out, thinking of the few times they had interacted during race weekends.

Lando rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before smiling. Your nose nudged against his and again, those butterflies returned.

“I want you there,” you said.

“Then I want to be there.”

Two sides to Lando. 

And this was the side you were falling incredibly hard for. The side that made you want to show him off to everyone you knew. The side that made you forget why you were nervous to see Charles in the first place.

Lando kissed you once more before he pulled his eyes to the road. You sat back in your seat and your hand stayed connected with his for the remainder of the drive.

——————

You opened the door to your maman’s place, reaching for Lando’s hand as you stepped inside. There was no one in the general area, but you could hear voices flooding in through the balcony. With it being such a beautiful day, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see that everyone was already outside.

Lando was looking around, undoubtedly feeling very out of his element as he stood in the childhood home of another driver. His eyes landed on some old photos and his usual bubbly personality was replaced with solemn and an expression so tense that it had you feeling uneasy in your mother’s own home.

“Hey,” you whispered, squeezing his hand as you stepped closer to him and the wall that held a variety of memories in frames. Lando nodded, acknowledging that he heard you, but his eyes were locked on a specific photo. 

It was Charles in a kart, probably about ten years old at the time. Next to him knelt Jules, the biggest smile on his face. 

Lando pointed at the young girl balancing on Jules’ knee, a bright red toy car between her fingers. His gaze then turned to you, eyebrows raised. 

“I was about five years old, I think,” you said, trying to think back to when exactly that picture was taken. You leaned your head against Lando’s arm as images of your childhood rushed back to you. Some were pure memories that belonged to, others were flashes of stories you had heard that your mind had tricked you into thinking you remembered. 

But this day, you remembered. 

“I wanted to race too,” a breath of laughter followed that admittance. “Or at least I thought I did. Jules would have never actually let me drive that thing, I was too young, but he put me in and I remember getting so scared. I kept thinking it would start and just take off and it was instant tears for me.”

Lando nudged your side, “Your dreams of being a driver were short lived.”

“Very much so,” you laughed. You tapped your finger against the mini you behind the glass. “Jules gave me a toy Ferrari to keep me distracted and it worked for the most part. But when Charles got in the kart I got scared for him. Jules had to hold me the entire time he was going around the track, assuring me that Charles was safe, that he-”

Lando noticed the way your voice caught in your throat. He slipped his hand out of yours to drape his arm around your shoulders instead, pulling you into his side so he could kiss your forehead.

You told yourself you were fine. You were fine, this was a happy memory, it was a good day. It was just one you hadn’t thought about in a while.

Lando didn’t want you to sit in your thoughts. He propped his finger under your chin, tilting your face up, “Do you think a toy Ferrari would still work to distract you?”

The corner of your lips curled upwards and you rolled your eyes at his attempt at bringing some humour into this conversation.

“No, but maybe a real Ferrari would.”

“Yeah I’m not buying you a Ferrari,” Lando scoffed, turning you both around and away from the photo wall. You glanced at it over your shoulder once more, but when the sliding door to the balcony opened, the pictures were yet again just a memory. 

You stepped out of Lando’s embrace when Pascale looked up and saw you. A grin spread across her cheeks and she was quick to put down the bottle of wine in her hands. You practically hopped across the kitchen floor to give her a hug, rocking side to side in her tight embrace.

“Bonjour, maman,” you sighed happily. It had been a few weeks since you had actually spent time with her. When you pulled back she started asking you about the wedding you attended, about London, about what you’ve been up to, but of course she was speaking in French. Lando, who stood quietly behind you, had absolutely no idea what was being said.

“Attends, maman,” Wait mom. You said, cutting her off before this conversation could go further. You glanced at Lando and ushered him over with just a head nod. “C’est Lando.” This is Lando.

Pascale looked at you like you were missing a few brain cells and honestly, you sort of felt like you were. Obviously she knew who Lando was. The question was what was he doing in her home. 

“Chérie, je sais qui c'est.” Sweetheart, I know who he is. 

Your maman knew Lando as a driver. Someone from a rival team, someone that Charles competed against. She probably didn’t think much of it that he was there, it wasn’t uncommon for Charles to invite another driver or two to a get-together. 

But when you reached for Lando’s hand and pulled him closer to you, Pascale’s eyes lit up. There was a faint gasp of surprise, but it was her heartwarming smile of approval that lifted the weight off your shoulders.

You had never brought someone home before, someone that you wanted to introduce to your family. And even though Lando didn’t need any introduction, it was clear that he wasn’t just a driver. Your fingers intertwined with his and your cheeks turned a light shade of pink when Pascale pointed between the two of you. 

As your mother, she wanted nothing but happiness for you. She didn’t care that Lando was a Formula 1 driver, all she saw was you clinging to a guy, something that she’s never seen before. There was an obvious connection, one that you hadn’t let yourself have before and Pascale could see that.

“I hope it’s okay that I invited him,” your voice was timid as you glanced towards the patio doors. All of your brothers were out there, none of them had noticed you yet.

“Of course!” she cheered, reaching forward to squeeze Lando’s arm lovingly. “Vous ne parlez pas le Français?”

“No,” you answered for him, feeling Lando tense up beside you as he tried to figure out what he was just asked. “No, he doesn’t speak French.”

“Oh that is not a problem,” Pascale brushed the language aside. She wanted to make Lando feel comfortable in her home, which was just another breath of fresh air for you. At least your maman was supportive, she would be inclusive towards Lando tonight.

Your brothers were another story.

The patio door slid open again and this time it was Enzo and Arthur who walked in. They greeted you from across the room, both in French, but their ‘bonjours’ and ‘ca va’s’ were cut off when they recognised Lando.

“C'est nouveau,” This is new. Enzo teased, his finger darting back and forth between you and Lando as he poured himself a glass of wine. 

Arthur glanced out to the patio where Charles remained, “Tu ne lui a pas dit a propos de Lando, pas vrai?” You didn’t tell him about Lando, did you?

Poor Lando, just staring at you waiting for a translation or for you to answer on his behalf. He genuinely couldn’t tell what your brothers were saying, but he hoped it wasn’t anything negative.

“English, boys,” Pascale clapped her hands together as she moved to stand between Arthur and Enzo. She wrapped her arms around both of them, squeezing gently as she smiled back at you and Lando. Both sons had quite a few inches on her but they let her pull them into her sides without any sort of fight. “Lando does not speak French. We will be good hosts, yes?”

“C’est lui qui vit à Monaco,” He’s the one who lives in Monaco. Enzo snorted, earning a smack upside the head from your maman. He held his hand up in defence, palm facing Lando, “Sorry, mate.”

“All good,” Lando chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t want to put anyone out of place, but Pascale was notorious for making sure her guests were comfortable and respected. If that meant she had to learn another language, she probably would without question. 

“Lando, wine?” She offered, grabbing an empty glass from the cupboard. 

“Oh he’s not a wine drinker and-” you spoke up, inhaling a sharp breath through your teeth. You glanced up at Lando, “-and I don’t know why I’m speaking for you. You have a voice.”

Lando gave your hand a squeeze, but he didn’t seem offended that you answered on his behalf. If anything, he was a little surprised that you remembered that little detail about him. 

“Help yourself to anything in the fridge,” Pascale told him, still pouring a glass for you knowing that you sure as hell wouldn’t turn down wine. She had just stepped around the kitchen island to hand it to you when the patio door opened for the third time.

Charles didn’t even look at you. His eyes immediately went to Lando.

Lando waved awkwardly, “Hey, Charles.”

Completely disregarding him, he turned to Pascale, “Ce devait être un dîner de famille." It was supposed to be a family dinner.

Lando leaned towards you and whispered, “What did he say?”

You shook your head, he didn’t need to know that Charles was already choosing to let this evening turn sour. “Tu peux être poli au moins.” You can at least be polite. You told Charles, only to be met with an eye roll in response.

“So the eye rolls run in the family?” Lando asked. 

“Can you just-” you turned to him suddenly, but stopped yourself from being unintentionally rude. Lando was just trying to make a joke, that’s what he did in any given situation. It wasn’t his fault that Charles’ bad attitude was now affecting how you were acting. You placed your hand on his chest, playing with the string of his jumper, “Let’s go outside, yeah?”

Charles turned around as well but Pascale was quick to jab her finger against her son's chest before he could go anywhere, “Behave, Charles.”

It was a warning that held very little merit. Charles would mutter something under his breath in French about how Lando wasn’t actually invited as the group of you all made your way outside. Pascale stayed inside to finish up dinner and you offered to help but one look from her and you both knew you’d be needed outside with the men boys. 

The patio was large. The outdoor couch shaped like an ‘L’ was spacious enough to fit all five of you comfortably. But Charles still opted for one of the chairs, resting his leg over the other as he leaned back and watched as Lando made himself comfortable on the patio furniture, or at least tried to. 

The second that Lando put his hand on your thigh, Charles’ eyebrows twitched and Lando retracted his hand, leaving it in his own lap. 

This was awkward for everyone. 

Well, maybe not so much Arthur and Enzo whose heads were moving back and forth between you like they were watching a tennis match, just waiting to see what sort of moves any of you would make. 

You hadn't spoken to Charles since you left Silverstone. You weren’t there for him when he DNF’d near the end of the race. You weren’t there to tell him that he still had plenty of chances left this season to do work his way up the standings. 

Now was as good a time as any to bring it up, clear the air. 

“I’m sorry about your retirement last weekend,” you said, feeling unusually timid. Charles wasn’t someone who you often felt small around. You looked up to him, sure, but you never felt the need to be careful around him, until now. 

Charles sighed loudly, “Is this you taking responsibility for it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hmm,” Charles scratched the stubble that grew along his jaw. “You don’t think everything you told me minutes before I had to get in the car affected my race at all?”

Nevermind, you weren’t shy to speak what was on your mind. You were annoyed.

“You don’t think leaving your personal life outside the track is something you should probably do?” You retorted, with even more sarcasm than his tone carried. “I mean, you’ve done it before. Weren’t you the one who broke up with Cha literally days before a race weekend and still went on to get a podium?”

“That was different.”

“You’re right,” you scoffed, leaning back against the cushions as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You brought my life onto the track with you in Silverstone. I never asked you to do that.”

To your right, Arthur nudged your side, “Take it easy, Y/N.”

Charles moved on from the topic of the race as his glare narrowed in on Lando. “Vous êtes ensemble, c'est ça?” So, you two are dating?

Lando looked at you, hoping you would, again, either translate or answer for him. 

“You know he doesn’t speak French.”

“Toute la famille parle Français,” This whole family speaks french. Charles leaned forward, “You’re just going to show up at my mother’s house and demand everyone speak English for your convenience?”

Lando rapidly shook his head, “That didn’t-”

You promptly cut him off, “Don’t be an ass for the sake of just being an ass, Charles.”

“Mate I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Lando chimed in. His hand went to your leg again and even when Charles eyed the point of contact with disapproval, Lando didn’t move it. “I just like hanging out with your sister. And for some reason she likes hanging out with me too.”

There was that term again. Hanging out. But this time when he said it, you knew Lando was only trying to downplay everything for Charles’ sake. Charles didn’t need to know any of the details of your relationship, he just needed to get it through his head that you were together.

The patio door opened and Pascale came out, holding the glass of wine you had forgotten to grab. You thanked her kindly and without exchanging a word, the mother-daughter bond you shared spoke volumes when you sent a glance across the patio towards Charles.

Pascale tsk’d, shaking her head at the Formula 1 driver, “I said behave, Charles.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Charles retorted. “He’s the one that shows up invited.”

“I invited him,” you snapped. 

Enzo leaned forward, directing his attention to Lando to try and steer this conversation elsewhere. He started asking the Brit about his family and Arthur gave you an encouraging nod. Maybe tonight just started off wrong, it had potential to get better.

But of course those were high expectations.

Dinner was horrible.

The glares sent across the table towards you and Lando were impossible to ignore. Charles purposely spoke French and even though Pascale reminded him four times that Lando didn’t understand, Charles only responded that it wasn't his problem.

He was being uncharacteristically rude, and Charles’ reputation was that he was one of the nicest drivers on the grid. That was a reputation you agreed with, up until now. 

He was trying to make Lando uncomfortable, trying to find any reason to exclude him, ensuring that Lando knew he didn’t approve of your relationship.

You tried to ignore it, really. You were there to talk to your maman, to catch up with Enzo, to introduce Lando to everyone else in the family.

But eventually you just grew tired of biting your tongue for the sake of keeping the peace.

“You’re insufferable, do you realise that?” You finally blurted out. Arthur and Enzo stifled their laughter and next to you, Lando dropped his hand to your leg. He had been respectful all dinner, keeping his hands on the table where everyone could see, but he knew that you needed the support in the form of a comforting squeeze.

“Big words for the person who pays for all of your trips. There's nothing insufferable about the private jets from Monaco to Spain to London, are there?" Charles barely looked up from his food, shoving his fork into his mouth and letting his words sink in.

“Oh you’ve been waiting to use that line haven’t you?”

Charles ignored you, glancing towards Lando, “You’ve got her trips covered now, yeah?”

“Charles,” Pascale warned. She had stayed quiet for the most part, not wanting to get involved, trying to believe that it was just siblings being siblings. 

But it was so much more than that.

“I don’t know why you think I’m so reliant on you, but I can assure you, I’m not,” you shot back, not giving Lando a chance to share his two cents. “But if I was really struggling, there’s about six other drivers on the grid I can call up to help me out. We all know they love my presence in the paddock more than yours.”

Again, Charles chose to ignore you. His stare remained on Lando, “You’re really going to let her talk about the other drivers right in front of you?”

You slammed your hand on the table, demanding that he give you his attention for once. Charles didn’t flinch, but everyone else did. Charles just leaned back in his chair, arrogance painted his face. 

“Pourquoi ça te dérange tant que je sois avec lui?” Why do you care so much that I’m with him?

“Pourquoi tu es avec lui? C'est ça la question.” Why are you with him? That’s the question.

You and Charles continued to raise your voices at each other across the table in French, saying anything and everything that came to mind, anything and everything that could hurt the other. Your brothers understood everything, your mother was waiting to see if she needed to intervene, and Lando had absolutely no idea what was happening, he didn’t speak French. 

But he understood some phrases.

“Va te faire enculer!” You practically screamed. Go fuck yourself. 

Lando was taken aback and he turned to you with wide eyes. You would have loved to excuse yourself from the table at this point, to take Lando and go back to his place, but your mother wasn’t about to let either of you get away with the bullshit that’s been happening all night.

Pascale snapped her fingers, calling for the attention of everyone in the room, but her gaze darted back and forth between you and Charles only. She pointed at you and then at him and then at the kitchen, “Dinner’s over. Both of you, you’re on clean up.”

It wasn’t uncommon in your youth for Pascale to split the household chores between the kids. She had four of them and like any typical mother, she taught her kids the importance of cleaning and pitching in around the house. 

But you didn’t even live there anymore. 

You would have volunteered to help regardless, but the fact that she was assigning you and Charles to dish duty now that you had finished eating was a telling sign that the two of you needed to work your shit out. 

Pascale pushed her chair away from the table and nodded towards the living room as her glare directed at her kids shifted to a warm gaze at Lando, “Come on, Lando, I’ve always wanted to show off baby pictures of Y/N. It’s a right of passage as her mother.”

“Maman, don’t, please,” you pleaded, but it was too late. Lando had practically jumped out of the chair and followed Pascale to the couch.

Arthur and Enzo stood up as well, they didn’t have any interest in reliving your childhood through the photo albums, but they also didn’t want to hang out in the kitchen and be uninvited witnesses to whatever you and Charles were undoubtedly going to argue about.

You stood up from your chair, collecting a few dishes from the table, “I wash, you dry.”

“You always wash.”

“Because everytime you wash you end up breaking plates in the sink and then it becomes a bigger mess for everyone.”

Charles had no comeback for that, he really couldn’t argue with facts. So reluctantly, he found himself standing elbow to elbow with you as you handed him the clean plates for him to dry and put away. 

Neither of you said a word.

Which was not Pascale’s intention. 

Hearing laughter behind you, you both glanced over your shoulders, catching each other's eyes momentarily before you stepped away from the sink to clear off some more dishes from the table. 

Your back was towards Charles when you looked up and saw Lando making his way towards you, a small wallet sized insert photo of you between his thumb and forefinger. You were maybe seven years old there, missing one of your front teeth just in time for picture day at school.

“This is adorable,” Lando told you, “Your mum said I can keep it.”

“You absolutely will not,” you rolled your eyes, stacking the glasses on top of each other. 

“You were such a cute kid,” Lando cooed, looking at the picture again. You already knew the question that was going to follow when he turned back towards you, “What happened?”

“Ha ha,” you mocked, flipping your middle finger up at him. 

Behind you, Charles cleared his throat. You turned and saw him standing with his back leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with the empty drying rack behind him. 

“We can go after I finish cleaning,” you told Lando, sounding apologetic on behalf of how Charles had been treating him all night. 

Lando felt bad. He didn’t want you to rush out of there because Charles was making this uncomfortable for everyone. He liked getting to know Pascale and your brothers a bit better. Enzo and Arthur didn’t have a problem with Lando’s presence. 

It was just Charles.

“Why?” Lando asked, raising his voice slightly even though this was supposed to be more of a private conversation. He wanted Charles to hear. “I’ve got no plans tonight. We can stay as long as you want. Unless-” Lando looked over your shoulder towards Charles. “Do you want us to leave?”

“I want you to leave,” Charles mumbled and you all but slammed the glasses back on the dining room table as you turned around to face your asshole of a brother. 

“Okay, you know what?” you inhaled a heavy breath, hands clamming up in seconds as you suddenly felt very confined within the kitchen. “I have been nothing but supportive of you for your entire career. Is it possible, that for once, to just take a step back and be supportive of me?”

“Supportive of what?” Charles scoffed, gesturing towards Lando. “That you’re dating him? That’s not something I need to be supportive of. It’s not an achievement or a career, Y/N, you haven’t done anything! You slept with a driver, congratulations! Should I call up Pierre and Carlos and invite them over as well? Make it a whole affair?”

You weren’t sure when Lando stepped around the table to stand at your side but you’re thankful he did. He was there to put a loving hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb over your skin as Charles’ words hit you hard. It felt like someone was pressing all of their weight against your chest and you struggled to find your words as much as you fought to take a breath.

You could have screamed at him. You wanted to. 

Your brother couldn’t separate you, his sister, from you, his biggest fan. To him, those two things were supposed to coincide. 

And for so long, they did. 

But that wasn’t the case anymore.

“Okay,” you finally breathed out, voice trembling along with your hands. You were going to pretend like Charles’ words didn’t hurt you and you were going to remove yourself from this conversation before it could take any more difficult turns, before this got uglier. You looked up at Lando, “We’re leaving.”

This was when Pascale interjected again. She stood up from the couch, the painful look of disappointment plastered all over her features.

“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval, apologise to your sister.”

“All the middle names,” Arthur whispered, but unfortunately for him the room was deafeningly silent and everyone heard his little comment. He cowered back into the couch, hoping that if he just stared at Charles long enough, the attention would go back to him.

And it did. Charles shook his head, “I’m not apologising for anything.”

Charles was a lost cause. It was a battle you didn’t have the energy to fight any more tonight. 

You reached for your maman, squeezing her hand before going in for a hug. She apologised, of course she did. The last thing she wanted was to see her kids fight.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” You told her and she nodded before moving in to give Lando a hug as well. She told him he was always welcome there when Lando thanked her for the dinner and for showing him the photo albums.

Lando said goodbye to Arthur and Enzo and then reached for your hand, tugging you into his side as you walked out of the house. You waved at Pascale as you made your way towards the car and you could see her expression shift into a glare as she turned around to give Charles a stern talking to before the door fully shut.

Like usual, Lando reached for the passenger door to open it for you, but he stopped you before you could get in by pulling you into his chest.

“Hey,” he whispered, his other hand finding your cheek to tilt your face up to meet his. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

A deep exhale passed through your lips, “You are the last person who should be apologising.”

“Yeah, well, the person who should be apologising isn’t going to,” Lando scoffed. “But you still deserve to hear it.”

Lando kissed your forehead, and then the tip of your nose and when you tilted your chin up just a little more, he pressed a final kiss to your lips before stepping back to let you get into the car.

He slid into the drivers side and had just started to reach for his seatbelt before he let it retract above his shoulder. 

“I left my wallet inside, I’ll be right back,” Leando leaned over to give you a kiss on the cheek, opening up the car door again. 

“I can go in and get it,” you offered, not wanting to have to subject Lando to Charles again.

“I’ll be two seconds, it’s fine.” He assured you, not leaving any room for discussion. He made his way up the walkway and you watched from the confinement of his car as he rapped his knuckles against the door.

It was Pascale who answered, obviously. She didn’t seem surprised to see Lando, moreso thankful if anything. 

“Lando, I’m so sorry,” Pascale said to him again, reaching for his arm to give it a squeeze. Pascale was a very touchy person, Lando came to realise, and you were cautious when it came to physical attention. Lando wondered where your closed off tendencies came from. He also wondered when that shift came between you two when you started to lean into his touches and being the one to reach for his hand first.

“You really have nothing to apologise for,” Lando said, his typical grin making another reappearance. He wasn’t going to let Pascale take responsibility for her son’s actions. He also wasn’t going to let it get to him the way Charles intended. 

She invited him inside, asking if he left anything and he told you that he did. But once inside, Charles shook his head and glanced around, “I actually just wanted to get a few more words with Charles quickly.”

Pascale nodded knowingly and pointed towards the balcony. Arthur sent him a smile that could have either read good luck or be careful, but Lando didn’t let himself think too much of it as he crossed the floor and slid the patio door open.

Charles glanced up from his phone and rolled his eyes when he saw who had joined him.

Lando much preferred your eye rolls. They were usually playful and teasing. You were never actually annoyed with him. He didn’t see your eye rolls and think of all of the exit routes like he was doing now as he stepped outside. 

Choosing to sit in the chair as opposed to joining Charles on the couch, Lando leaned forward and clasped his hands together atop of knees. 

This was strange for both of them.

Lando and Charles were friends. They got along well most of the time. They respected each other as people, as drivers. It wasn’t until Lando became more involved with you did Charles start to see the British driver in a different light. 

“You know I would never hurt her, right?” Lando started off by getting right to the point. The line that was drawn between them was you and Lando needed them both to be on the same side of this line, not vying for what they thought was best in their own opinions. 

“She’s not thinking about the consequences, Lando,” Charles took him by surprise, not coming back with attitude or with a bitter rebuttal, but with a voice of reason. “She’s happy, sure, but have either of you thought about the media presence in the paddock? What people might say? How might this affect your performance and mine? Formula 1 is hard enough as it is, mate. Racing aside, there are so many external factors that neither of you are considering.”

Lando nodded, piecing together what Charles was getting at, but he wasn’t someone who was easily persuaded. It took Lando weeks to work his way into your life, he wasn’t about to throw any of it away because Charles was sending him an intimidating glare.

“Charles, she’s spent her whole life considering those things,” Lando spoke calmly.

You made it clear you didn’t want a fight and he had your back, not wanting to start an argument either.

“Her own life takes a backseat to support you, to be your biggest fan. She, for the most part, has stayed out of trouble, stayed out of the spotlight so you could shine, so there would be no tarnishing of the Leclerc name. She’s been there for you during the best and the worst of times. All she’s ever wanted was to see you succeed.” Lando shook his head, as he recalled one of your first conversations. “When I took her out in Montreal, she was the one that told me she doesn’t date drivers. That wasn’t a rule you had set for her, that was something she decided for herself. Her fears controlled her, she didn’t want to have to worry about you and someone else during a race-”

“What, so now she’s just going to worry about you?” Charles cut him off and Lando could sense that he was growing more agitated with each passing second. 

“No, you idiot,” Lando had to tell himself to keep a straight face. “She’s not letting her fears control her anymore. She’s choosing to believe that what happens in the real world doesn’t affect what happens on the track. She doesn’t want to worry about either of us. She wants to cheer both of us on, and you’re selfishly putting her in a position where she has to choose.”

Lando pressed his palms against his legs and stood up from the chair, essentially ending the conversation there before Charles could think of something else to add, another reason as to why they shouldn’t date that would inevitably go in one ear and out the other.

When Lando reached for the handle of the patio door, he paused before sliding it open, “I’m not trying to take her from you, or from her family. I just want her to be happy and you should want that for her too."

“I do,” Charles agreed, but his words didn’t match the tone, like he was fighting with himself. 

Lando wasn’t going to offer any suggestions as to how Charles could stop getting in the way. It wasn’t up to Lando to remind Charles what his place was in your life, that was for him to figure out on his own. Lando simply nodded at the Monegasque driver and walked back inside. 

Pascale walked him to the front door, apologising one last time for her son's words and actions throughout the night, but Lando assured her that he still had a great time. She invited him back, telling Lando that she was happy to see her daughter look so at peace for once. 

All while Lando was inside your mother’s home, you sat in his car, adjusting the air conditioning and the angle of the seat. You flipped the radio on, but at this time of night there were only remixes and horrible cookie-cutter pop songs that you just couldn’t stand. 

You just wanted to distract yourself because Lando was taking a while. He said two seconds but you watched the digital clock on the screen slowly change and it had been at least two minutes since he shut the front door behind him.

You turned the radio off and opened up the glove box, hoping for an instruction manual on how to connect your phone to the bluetooth, but there was nothing in there. So you flipped open the middle compartment next.

There was no manual, but there was a wallet. 

Of course you picked it up to confirm it was in fact Lando’s, but then that just left you with the question, why did he go back inside the house?

The light from the front foyer caught your eye and you glanced up to see your mother giving Lando a hug. Apparently he had made quite the impression on her tonight.

You dropped the wallet back inside the compartment and closed it right before Lando reached the car. He slid into the driver's seat and looked at you with his usual cheeky smile, the one that gave him those faint lines around his lips and caused his eyes to squint. 

“Find it?” You asked.

Lando hesitated before nodding, “Yeah, was stuck in the couch cushions. Must have fallen out of my pocket.”

And you knew he was lying, but you didn’t question any further. Lando reached across the console to connect his hand with yours as he started to take off in the direction of his flat, jumping into a conversation about your baby photos and how sweet Pascale was, choosing to purposely disregard Charles and his behaviour.

Whatever reason Lando had to go back inside, you didn’t care to ask about it. 

You trusted Lando. You knew Lando was someone who would take care of you, even if you didn’t ask for it. His motives, his words, his stupid plan to move up your driver ranking, all of it was pure at heart with nothing but good intentions. 

He just wanted to be with you and in return, he hoped you would want to be with him as well. 

And against all odds, you were going to make this work.

masterlist here (side note - part 12 (the next chapter) will be the final part)

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @tsarinablogs @noescapricho-essentimiento @f1mockingjay @xqueenslytherinx if i missed someone im so sorry

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[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed Me?

Final part for real this time, no cliffhanger I swear!!

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

Warnings: none, fluff and sweetness

Info: obi-wan loves his brother; even if he does occasionally want Anakin to double over from a swift punch to the gut. Satine is a lawyer btw

“Sweetheart.” Anakin speaks low and steady over the phone. “I need you to listen to me.”

“What? What’s wrong Ani?” Your response laced with worry.

“Deadbolt the doors, make sure the garage is padlocked okay?” He said sternly, so you immediately did as you were told, switching the call to speakerphone.

“Anakin what is going on?” You demanded.

“Sweet girl, your mom knows okay? She took the Camaro and left me here with divorce papers.” He said calmly.

“You’re fucking joking.” You gasped. “She stole your car? Well I’ll come get you!” You started to rush to the door when he sternly told you no.

“I called my brother, he’s coming to get me. Satine is doing us a big favor and drafting up some paperwork. The house, my car and your car are under my name anyway. Your mom can’t win any of that in court okay?” He reassured you.

“So then-“

“Baby, I told you I need you to listen alright?” He reminded you. “I’m not pressing charges over the car. She’s headed home to get hers I believe, or at least that’s the way she was headed last time I looked at Life360.”

“Keep the doors dead bolted understand?” His tone was oddly calm, as if your whole world hadn’t just crumbled.

“R-right okay.” You whispered.

“Hey- princess, don’t worry. Everything’s fine okay? We are fine.” His voice now gentler than before. “I promise, this divorce won’t be messy. It’s very clear cut okay?”

“But what about you An-“

“No. Nothing is happening to me.” He said. “Nothing. You’re over 18. Everything is fine, I swear it.”

“Okay.” You sighed. “Satine said so?”

“Yes baby. I already told them-“

“Shhh! Shh, mom just pulled in.” You whispered as if she could hear you from the driveway.

“Don’t you dare hang up.” He said sternly.

“I’m not!” You huffed, going to the window to peek from behind the curtain.

You watched as your mother chucked Anakin’s keys at the front door, flinching when you heard the impact. Your mom walked over to her own vehicle and opened the trunk, lifting a backpack out. The yellow glow of the porch light was just bright enough that you could make out the heap of bags in her trunk. She’d already packed her things.

“Oh shit.” You whispered and backed away from the window as she walked toward the front door.

“What?” Anakin demanded.

“She’s got a bunch of bags in the trunk of her car but she’s coming up the porch steps right now.” You squeaked.

The door handle rattled and you heard keys jangling, the twist of the lock, and the forceful push of the front door. Then came the rapid, loud knocking.

“Hey!” She yelled. “I know you’re home. I want to talk to you!”

“No. Don’t say anything.” Anakin warned. “Obi just pulled in, don’t talk to her. Not even through the door.”

Anakin could be heard shuffling and slamming his brothers car door, instructing him to get him home as quickly as possible.

Your mother kept knocking, even going so far as to rap on the window in hopes that you’d hear her out.

“Please just talk to me. I’m not- listen it’s not your fault!” She yelled. “You were just a teenager!”

“Baby- no.” Anakin sounded pained as he spoke.

“I know Ani.” You whispered back. “I know, okay? I’m not gonna talk to her. Not even if she says stupid shit like that. As much as it angers me, I know I’m better off staying quiet.”

“Good girl.” He sighed. “I’ll be home soon okay? Or actually-“

”Obi can we stop at the hardware store?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care. Whichever is open!”

“Christ, alright.”

“I’m getting new locks before I come home.” Anakin declared.

“That’s probably a good idea.” You said quietly, alittle suspicious of the sudden silence from outside.

You crept back up to the window and saw your mother standing next to her car, sitting on the lip of the open trunk. Her hand flailing as she spoke animatedly over the phone. You could physically see her huff out loud just before she got up and slammed the trunk shut, angrily ending the phone call.

“Has everyone lost their fucking mind?” She yelled, pulling out her car keys and walking to the drivers side door to get in and speed away from the house.

“She left.” You breathed out.

“Good.” Anakin sounded relieved. “I’ll be home as soon as I can okay?”

”why don’t I just take you there? I’ll go get the new locks.”

“Are you sure? Well- if… okay! Okay fine, here at least let me give you some cash.”

“Can you hang up so I can yell at you now?”

“You already yelled at me!”

“I’m not done yet!”

“Well you’ll have to wait. Your wife is calling me.”

“Princess-“ he started.

“I know, I heard.” You let out a slight laugh.

“I love you, see you soon.”

“I love you.” You said, hanging up and immediately collapsing on the couch.

You had let all your emotions out or at least you thought you did, by the time Anakin arrived. You ran to the door with dry eyes but the moment you unlocked it and saw him you were drowning in salty tears. He scooped you up and kicked the door shut, sliding the deadbolt into the locked position before carrying you to the couch.

“Shh it’s okay.” He whispered, his lips kissing the top of your head while you clutched onto his shirt.

“What are we gonna do?” You sniffled.

“What we always planned on doing.” He said.

“Serious?” You asked, leaning back to see that he was letting a few tears fall too despite his calm speaking voice.

“Of course I’m serious.” He said, his eyebrows furrowed. “I love you. I’ve always been serious about that.”

“But we just-“

“Look at me.” He said sternly, wiping his cheek with his shoulder. “I love you. I have always loved you. I don’t care if we just got back together, that doesn’t matter to me. I’m just as serious about you as I was before, it didn’t just go away in our time apart.”

His hands came up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tears. He took a grounding breath and kissed your forehead, the outer corner of each eye, and the tip of your nose.

“I would have left at anytime, you know that? Anytime. I just wanted you to be ready.” He said, a hint of something mournful in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Six years later

A new state, a new town, a new house.

A new life.

The moment the divorce was finalized you sold your old home. Using that money to get the hell out of dodge and move to somewhere warm.

Arizona was warm, always warm. You’d never even visited before you chose to live there, neither had Anakin. You wanted somewhere completely fresh, a clean slate for you to write your own story on and gods did you have a good story.

You found a beautiful two bedroom home, absolutely perfect in every way. It was close enough to town but far enough away that you weren’t surrounded by traffic or neighbors. A nice front yard, an ever nicer fenced in back yard. The big floor to ceiling glass windows in the dining room really sold it for you, the natural lighting and the fucking view was outrageous.

There was even a fire pit in the backyard which you decided to christen on your first night there via much too many s’mores. Now it was in regular use, sometimes by just you and Anakin, he did love an evening under the stars. The sky was so clear, unlike any place you’d ever been before, it was almost surreal.

Though as of late it’s been seeing an influx of visitors.

Anakin had his very own garage now, a *six* bay garage at that. He was the local go-to for multiple reasons, the prices, the high quality work, and people love a family owned store. With him as the lead man and you at the front desk, the pair of you were practically unstoppable.

This also meant that Anakin was in control of his work life in a new way. He was able to separate home and work unlike before where it wasn’t ever guaranteed that you’d be left unbothered. No more waking up at the asscrack of dawn to the obnoxious noises of old, no more at-home phone calls, no more blocked driveway, no more late nights.

It meant that he was able to be present for important moments without the worry of distraction. It meant he could cry along with you today.

You both were able to reel it in and contain the tears until the last second. The twins were so unbelievably excited for their first day of school, you both agreed that sobbing the entire way to their classroom would definitely put a damper on their day. So you smiled and skipped down the hall as requested by Leia and Anakin performed Luke’s very long, very intricate, never the same secret handshake at the door.

You gave hugs and kisses and a final goodbye wave, then booked it back out to the car. You almost made it to the foyer before your sniffles turned into cries, when you looked at Anakin for comfort you saw he was already holding his breath in that ridiculously uncomfortable way that he did to stop himself from sobbing.

Thankfully you made it to your vehicle before he passed out from lack of oxygen. It would be a real shame for him to miss this afternoon’s celebratory cookout you were hosting due to a blacktop issued concussion. The other fathers from your first time parents group would be highly disappointed if you ended up in charge of the grill.

“I can’t believe we have 12 more years of this.” Anakin sniffled.

“Seriously? Did you seriously just say that to me right now?” You cried.

“Yeah I did. I just wanted to prepare you for our suffering for the next decade.” He gave you a crooked, tearful grin.

“You’re lucky that I love you.” You hiccuped out a laugh.

“Yes I am.”

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#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #sw anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #starwars fandom #star wars x reader

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2564

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sorry that this one feels like a bit of a filler - but I’m seriously hoping to get some spicy content out in the next chapter so pls pls stay tuned! Also this is only proof read by myself so pls let me know of any errors!

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Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 4

We spent a few hours researching and looking into the First Blades whereabouts after dinner, Dean and I only making work-related conversations after the pie ordeal. Every now and then when I looked up from the book I was reading I’d catch him looking in my direction, but I was far too tired for any more confrontation - I knew he'd act like an ass if I said anything. I decided to head to bed at around midnight, unable to read more than a few words and actually process said words in my brain. As Sam was still asleep, Dean showed me to my room which was tragically opposite his, and I could only imagine the noises that I’d be hearing coming through that door. Getting ready for bed, I dug out an old boyfriends T-shirt that I was still in possession of and threw it on, making sure to remove all other items of clothing except my panties. I climbed into bed - which was surprisingly more comfortable than I’d anticipated, though the sheets smelt a little musty - and set an alarm on my phone so I could hopefully rise before the boys in the morning. The moment my head hit the pillow, sleep whisked me away, not giving me a chance to think about the wild day I’d had and the total jackass that I’d met.

*

My alarm rang at 5am and I crawled out of bed, dressing in yesterday’s jeans with a clean, low-cut tank top and an open flannel thrown over the top. Pulling on my boots, I ran my fingers through my hair before heading to the en suite bathroom to brush my teeth. As I turned on the tap, the pipes clanged alarmingly as a small stream of water trickled from the faucet, the harsh noise echoing around the small tiled room. “That’s not concerning at all,” I mumbled to myself, the noise finally stopping as I turned the tap off. After I’d finished brushing I headed back into the bedroom to grab my phone before leaving the room to walk wearily to the kitchen. Upon arrival, I instantly made a pot of coffee, the smell alone already helping to blow away the sleepy cobwebs in my mind. I needed food. Something good, like pancakes. So I rummaged around until I found everything I needed, starting to memorise where the brothers kept everything after spending so much time in here yesterday evening. As I whipped up the batter, I threw some bacon in a pan and placed three plates on the table, along with some mugs, the pot of coffee and a big bottle of maple syrup. As soon as I started cooking the batter, it was like I’d used a summoning spell.

“You know when I first woke up I thought that I’d dreamt you up in some sort of weirdly tame nightmare” Dean said in a deep and raspy, fresh-from-sleep tone as he paced into the room and sat at the table, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that your way of saying that I’m your dream girl, Winchester?” I teased as I poured him a mug of coffee. He smirked, not looking up at me.

“You wish darlin’.”

“I really don’t,” I turned back to the stove and flipped the pancake, taking a sip from my own mug.

I’d made a stack of maybe twelve pancakes by the time Sam arrived, greeting me with that warm smile of his as he took a seat opposite Dean.

“Good morning (Y/n), something smells amazing.”

“Good morning Sam,” I smiled back at him before I looked over at Dean, “That’s how you greet someone in the morning Dean, not by telling them they were part of your living nightmare.” Dean shrugged, taking a long drink from his coffee.

Sam gave me an almost apologetic look on his brothers behalf, saying quietly, “as charming as ever then, Dean.” As he sat down I placed the stack of pancakes along with the bacon on the table and both men’s eyes lit up, immediately picking up their cutlery.

“Help yourselves,” I said, taking a seat between them, “just leave a couple for me at least.”

Dean was the first to pile about five onto his plate along with a good portion of the bacon. Without even looking at me he placed two pancakes on my own plate as he reached for the maple syrup. Before I could ask for the bacon, it was Sam who served some up for me before giving himself whatever was left over before handing me the syrup.

“Oh, thanks guys…” I said, a little shocked at how weirdly coordinated they were with that whole task.

“You’re welcome,” they both managed to mumble out through huge mouthfuls of food. We sat in a strangely nice silence for a few minutes, the only noise to be heard was the sounds of breakfast being totally annihilated. Dean was the first to throw his cutlery down with a very satisfied groan. He stretched, his T-shirt rising slightly to show his incredibly toned abdomen.

For fucks sake.

“THAT is what powers a man up in the morning,” he said, his fingers interlaced behind his head.

“Mmm hmm,” was all I managed to get out, finding it annoyingly difficult to look away, let alone to stop my eyes from trailing to where his leather belt hugged his hips and his old denim jeans gripped the thick muscles of his thighs. A few seconds must’ve passed when he cleared his throat and my eyes snapped up to be immediately caught in that moss-green gaze. Shit. I thought maybe for a second that he didn’t notice me looking. But then the corner of his mouth twitched up into that infuriating smirk. Luckily for me, he didn’t say anything, but I watched as he dragged his gaze over my figure, similar to how I did with him. It was Sam who spoke up next and I tore my eyes away, letting out a breath as he saved me from Deans silent interrogation.

“So I read last night about a possible case,” he started to say as he finished chewing the last bit of food on his plate before pushing it away and turning towards us.

“Go on,” Dean said, leaning forwards - finally covering his exposed stomach.

“I think it’s a haunting - some sort of item possession involving a ghost. All of the accidents that have been happening seem to occur either around or directly within an old antique store that’s connected to an old auction house. I think it’s worth a look,” Sam opened his laptop that he’d placed on the seat next to him, showing us all of the research he’d done overnight. Looking at the evidence he’d piled together, I think he was on to something. I nodded.

“Sure, I’m in. I’ll go pack a bag,” I said, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Hang on a second,” Dean spoke up and I immediately knew he was talking to me.

“What?”

“What makes you think you’re coming with us for this?” His brows furrowed slightly.

“Because I never get to work out in the field - Bobby always had me on book duty and I want to see some real hunting in action,” I raised my voice a little starting to get defensive.

“If Bobby never let you do field work then neither are we. You’re staying here,” his tone was stern as he downed the last of the coffee and stood up, towering over me.

“What?!” I almost shouted.

“Dean, I don’t think it’s your place to say what she can and can’t do. I say we let her come along,” Sam intervened, his voice always full of reason and reassurance. I gave him a half smile - a small, ‘thank you for sticking up for me’.

“No way. There’s no way I’m letting Bobby’s girl put herself in danger. The old bastard would find a way to make us pay if anything were to happen to her; even from beyond the grave.”

“I don’t need you taking on his role, Dean. Bobby kept me safe my whole life, just him. I’m sure the pair of you could look out for me no problem on a little ghost trip,” I chided, coming up with a plan to get Dean to agree to me coming.

“(Y/n)s right, this shouldn’t be a hard case for us - if anything this is a small break from the real hard work,” Sam stepped towards Dean, trying to reassure him.

Dean looked from Sam to myself, and when our eyes locked I let a sly smile crawl onto my lips.

“Or maybe Dean Winchester isn’t up to the challenge?” I said, holding my hands up. He frowned, opening his mouth but I spoke again before he could get his words out. “Maybe….,” I stepped towards him, now only a few inches between us, “Dean Winchester is losing his touch, and isn’t the big strong man he used to be and really won’t be able to keep me safe…?” I flashed Dean my best doe eyes and I heard him suck in a breath as I reached forwards and tugged slightly on his T-shirt, making him look down at me with his eyes flicking between mine - dilating a little. I couldn’t help but bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes and pressing my fingertips to his chest, feeling his heart rate increase with every beat from my touch. I liked to think that I was being very ‘persuasive’.

“I think you’re right (Y/n), I don’t think Dean is up to the task. He’s definitely been losing his touch,” Sam spoke up, catching on with my game and joining in with the verbal attack on his older brother. Deans eyes snapped up to look at Sam and the almost trance-like state he was in before was shattered.

“I have NOT lost my touch!” He snapped. Sam and I looked at each other and exploded into laughing very fake laughs, clapping and wiping away a pretend tear.

“Sure thing ‘sweetheart’,” I said, “prove it - keep me safe.”

“Oh I’ll keep you safe,” Dean took the bait and barged past us, “I’ll keep you safe from your own fucking shadow.”

*

After a few hours of packing and travelling, we arrived in a very well manicured town - even the motel was decent. Upon checking in, we got two rooms; one for me and one for the boys.

“Let’s drop our stuff off, freshen up and meet back here in ten?” Sam said, checking his watch. It was just past 11am.

“Sure, sounds good,” I replied, and Dean just nodded in approval. Their room was further down the corridor than mine, so I watched them leave before entering my room. It was the usual layout: one double bed, cheap linens, an old TV and an under-stocked minibar. At least the decor wasn't completely brown. I dumped my bags on the floor and started to unpack some essentials. I laid my clothes out on the bed - some of these outfits may come in handy later on. For now though, I’ll just stick to what I was already wearing. Lastly I grabbed a tin that was down in the bottom of my duffle - inside was a bunch of fake IDs that Bobby insisted on making me a few years ago. I smiled, remembering him always answering the phone to the Winchesters, pretending to be their FBI boss. I was always dying to know what they were hunting when he got those phone calls. I admired them a lot back then. I shook away the memory and pocketed the IDs, marching to the bathroom and splashing some water on my face before leaving, locking the door behind me.

The boys were already waiting for me.

“You boys ready?” I asked, to which they both nodded. “Where to first?” my question was aimed at Sam, but Dean replied.

“The old antique store just down here on the corner,” he grumbled as we started walking, still unimpressed that I was tagging along. I shot him a look as he practically glared at me from the other side of Sam.

“Get over yourself Dean. I’m along for the ride so deal with it,” I snapped at him, hoping he un-rustles his jimmies quickly. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down, not when I’m excited to actually be on a case. My first ‘out in the field’ case of all things. I wanted this to be a good memory. He scrunched his face up at my words, mouthing an angry ‘I hate you’ at me, to which I flipped him off.

“Guys just behave yourselves!” Sam stopped in his tracks right as we were outside our destination. “We are professionals so we need to act like it. We’re here to do our job,” Sam said in an authoritative voice - which undeniably sounded very attractive on him. I walked a few steps ahead of them and stopped with my hand on the front door to the store.

“Sam’s right. I’m happy to be here helping these people,” I smiled a little too sweetly before throwing a dark look at Dean, “so pull your shit together Dean, you’re making us look bad.” I heard him start to protest before I pushed the door open and walked into the shop, hearing the two brothers scurrying to catch up with me. As we walked in we were greeted by an older gentleman, with a kind face, a neatly trimmed pure white beard and round specs.

“Good morning and welcome to the store,” he said, his voice soft, “Can I help you?” He looked between the three of us. The boys reached for the fake badges, but they were lost for words when I beat them to the chase - obviously being unaware that I’d come prepared. Holding my badge up for the older gent to see, I spoke without missing a beat.

“Hi! Yes you certainly can help me - I’m agent Granger and these,” I jabbed my thumb to Sam and Dean who were standing right behind me, “are agents Crabbe and Goyle. We’ve got some questions for you regarding the strange occurrences going on around here recently.”

“Of course, it’s about time these things were investigated,” the older man turned and beckoned for us to follow, which Sam did immediately. Dean and I were left behind, staring each other down. I could tell he wasn’t happy that I had a badge, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. He scowled.

“This isn’t a fucking game.”

“You’re just mad that I got one up on you so early on,” I grinned up at him, his frown not budging.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he huffed.

“I’m safe from doing you then aren’t I?” I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my lips.

“What?” He looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head, obviously not catching on. I chuckled a little, walking past him to catch up with Sam, leaving him standing there confused.

“Don’t think too hard about it Dean, you might hurt yourself,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Fuck y- hang on- oh you BITCH!” He shouted after me as he caught on finally. I laughed, not looking back.

“Only to you Dean.”

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Up Next:

Chapter 5

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn #reader insert

[oceantornadoo]

protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in *gender neutral version*

“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your backpack. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.

“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.

“‘ello?”

“si- simon, it’s me.”

“i know, love. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.

“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.

“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”

9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.

suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.

“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, backpack strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.

twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.

“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.

“you win.”

fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.

“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.

“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”

“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.

“we’re not together anymore, simon.”

“you’re still mine.”

silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.

“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.

“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.

“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.

—

someone requested gender neutral so i hope i did you justice! i consider dove, love, lovie, and baby to be gn so i didn’t change them if you were wondering

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #simon riley smut #fluff #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #gender neutral reader #simon riley x gn reader

[hanggarae]

when you spoke to me..

doctor!joshua x f!reader 4.1k words, readers ex keeps texting her to take him back, fake dating au, honestly doesn’t focus much on joshua being a doctor other than at the beginning but he still is a rich doctor, fluff, angst, one sided love (?) (you’ll get it when u read it), part of waves will take us far away series !

why were hospital layouts so complicated sometimes? now you’re accidentally in the room of a really cute doctor embarrassing yourself while you fumble with your phone trying to find the correct room your friend was in.. but wait is he smiling at you?

“you what?” you screamed to your friend over the phone, “who the hell is stupid enough to go on a hike when they have a broken leg?”

“ankle. it’s a broken ankle. besides it all worked out in the end right? at least everything with cheol got cleared up” she giggled, and you sighed remembering the crush she’d developed on her doctor of all people.

“yeah yeah i guess, look you get some rest i’ll come visit you tomorrow with jeonghan. feel better alright!” you let out another deep sigh when your friend hung up. you loved her but she really did make some terrible decisions sometimes.

the bed sheets were warm beneath you, it’d started getting warmer as spring approached and you knew you were definitely grateful for it. the cold weather always made the skin on your hands rough.

the notification sound on your phone went off. confused you checked your phone again in case it was from your friend. you let out a groan when you read who the text was from. ‘i’m sorry i miss you’ read the text from your ex. you’d blocked him weeks ago but he kept finding ways to contact you through new or his friends’ accounts. annoyed, you put your phone on mute and put your head on your pillow ready to sleep.

balloons tied to your wrist and three gift bags resting on your forearms, you walked through the hospital halls keeping a lookout for any staff that could help you find where the room you were looking for was.

you didn't usually visit this hospital so you weren’t familiar with the setting. room 139. you just passed 122 so surely you can't be far, right? after walking for a few more minutes, you found room 139. something seemed off though.

you were sure jeonghan had told you that he was already here and after peeking your head in, you couldn’t catch sight of him. weird. maybe he just stepped out to grab something. oh well.

pushing the door open you could've cried at the sight in front of you. yeah you were right to be wary. instead of your friends you were met with an elderly man currently getting a cast on his arm.

“i am so so sorry” you said breathlessly as you tried to get out of the room. before you did, your eyes met with the second doctor in the room, was he.. laughing at you? ‘jerk’ you rolled your eyes before walking out of the room.

turning on your heel, you gave one last apology before trying to find the correct room. before you could make it far, you felt someone grab onto your arm to get your attention. ‘what the hell did he want?’

“can i help you?” you told him curtly.

“i can help you if you need actually. i’m guessing you’re here to visit someone and it wasn’t that man back there” he smiled at you. okay now you felt bad. he was just a cute doctor that wanted to help you out.

“oh.. thank you” you smiled at him, “uh this was the room that my friend has told me. i’m visiting her, she had a fractured ankle..”

“oh!” his eyes widened, “do you know who your friend’s doctor is? is it choi seungcheol?”

“oh that’s right!”

“yeah come with me i’ll take you to where it is. you were in the wrong ward”

you frowned. why would the hospital use the same numbering system for every ward? it’s so over complicated. whatever. at least you were getting there now. you continued to follow doctor.. well actually what was his name?

“excuse me doctor? what’s your name if you don’t mind me asking”

“hm? oh i’m doctor hong but you can call me joshua i don’t mind” he smiled again at you, and when you saw it you don’t know how you managed to dislike him at first when he had such a kind smile. “and what’s your name?”

“my name’s yn. sorry for making you go through all this trouble by the way, you must’ve been busy”

“oh no don’t worry about it, i wouldn’t have offered if i didn’t want to”

after about ten minutes of walking joshua showed you to where the room was, and you saw all of your friends. thanking joshua one more time you made your way in before waving back at him.

when visiting hours were done, you and jeonghan we’re making it out of the hospital together before you heard your phone vibrate a few times in your pocket.

you groaned at how it kept going, knowing it meant that it was your ex that found another way to contact you.

“you know, this should be considered borderline harassment at this point. he won’t leave you alone!” jeonghan sounded annoyed when you both confirmed it was your ex texting again, “he’s got no shame too, he’s the one who cheats and now he’s begging to have you back”

“i don’t even care anymore, i planned on getting a new phone and number soon anyway. so he can have fun texting the phone that nobody’s using” you sighed, exasperated at his efforts.

you’d told him weeks ago to stop contacting you, that no matter how much he did this wasn’t going to ‘win you back’. he was a terrible human being and you didn’t want anything to do with him.

“oh? yn?” you heard a familiar voice call out not too far from where you and jeonghan were.

turning to identify where the sound was coming from, you relaxed when you saw it was the doctor that helped you earlier.

“hi joshua, you getting off work now?” you waited for him to catch up to you.

“yeah. hey jeonghan” he waved to the man smiling deviously next to you, “uh yn do you have a ride home?”

“she doesn’t! i had to meet my parents for dinner right after so i couldn’t” before you could answer jeonghan was already doing it for you, faking a pout. “but hey, you could take yn home, couldn’t you shua?”

“if that’s okay with you yn i’d be happy to” joshua smiled at you again, that same too sweet smile.

“if it’s not any trouble to you” you told him sheepishly, “then i’d really appreciate it”

joshua’s car was nice, you could tell he took good care of it, making sure everything in the glove compartments were organised and that the seats were as clean as the carpets. you’d spent the time talking and getting to know each other. falling into conversation with joshua was too easy, almost as if you’d known each other for years. you’d learnt about how much of a kind person he was, but he never bragged about it, just about how incredibly grateful he was to be able to give to others. there was no way someone as nice as him really existed. and he looked that good too? oh it really wasn’t fair.

but you can really never have too much of a good thing because here came the 703rd call from your ex in the last few weeks. groaning you decline it but then came the bombardment of texts saying how he ‘loved you and didn’t mean it’.

“is that your boyfriend?” joshua asked, and if you weren’t so distracted with blocking the new number he was contacting you from, you would’ve caught the masked disappointment in his voice.

“thankfully no. but i don’t want to bother you with the whole story” you turned to look at him, but he was silently telling you to go on, like he doesn’t mind if you vented to him despite only knowing him a few hours. from what jeonghan had told you after being friends with joshua for a few months now, he was definitely a good listener. “he’s my ex. we’d broken up like a year ago or something but a few weeks ago he kept trying to reach out again out of nowhere. i’m guessing he realised that no girl wanted him so he thought i’d take him back”

“and what he’s just been bothering you for the last few weeks? have you tried telling the authorities?”

“i’ve thought about it but he’s harmless. i saw him at the store about a week ago and he didn’t even approach me. he’s all bark and no bite. i think if he sees i’m with someone else he’ll definitely back off” you sighed rubbing at your temples, you could feel yourself getting a headache already.

“are you? with someone else i mean?” he looked nervous. it was so cute.

“no, but why do you ask?” you asked him with a teasing lilt in your voice.

“well, my parents have been annoying me for weeks about finding a partner. so how about we just help each other out and pretend we’re going out with one another?”

it honestly was a good idea but you couldn’t help feel a little disappointed that it would just be fake dating. joshua was fun though so you’d push back your own brief hurt in favour of at least hanging out with him more often.

‘morning !! do u think u can meet me at this cafe at around 3 today ? need to ask u smth’ read the text that joshua had sent you today. it had been a few weeks since he drove you home and you’d both been texting back and forth getting to know each other more, and he mentioned that you both might have to meet soon last night. you texted him back, and agreed to meeting up. after getting ready, you left the apartment at around 2:30 to get to the cafe that joshua had told you about.

you texted joshua again to let him know you were outside and he told you that he was waiting at the table near the window on the left. when you stepped in you found him immediately. he was dressed casually, you’re guessing he didn’t have work today.

“hey, do you want me to grab you something to drink?” he smiled at you, helping you with your things.

you looked over the menu before he recommended something, promising you it would be good as he’d visited the cafe a lot. he went to place the order before joining you again at the table.

“did you have work off today?” you asked him.

“oh yeah, i don’t usually work fridays” he took a sip of his drink, “but anyway. the reason i asked you here was because i was wondering if you could come with me to some dinner my aunt’s hosting this weekend. her daughter graduated and my parents mentioned they wanted to meet you”

this weekend? that’s so sudden. i mean it’s not like you really had any plans anyway but it was still really sudden, “i’m free so i can go just.. well how formal is this dinner? like should i dress up or..” you trailed off, mentally trying to remember everything in your closet and if you had something fit for the occasion.

“it’s pretty formal i guess” he said sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck, “it’s at some fancy restaurant and i’m going wearing a suit. of course if you need me to i can definitely help you find a dress!”

“don’t worry about it” you laughed, pulling out your phone so you could find a picture. “i have a few formal ones but this is one i wore to my friend’s engagement party a couple months back, you think this’ll be alright?”

joshua looked at the picture, lips curving up into a smile before he met your gaze, “you look really pretty in that dress”

you flushed, taking a sip of your drink while thinking of a way to not let him get the upper hand, he can’t make you fall for him it wouldn’t be fair.

“thanks.. i just remembered! i have a high school reunion on the 30th. are you busy that day? i’m pretty sure it’s a friday”

you saw joshua frown thinking over it before opening what you’re guessing is his calendar app on his phone, “nope. i don’t have anything that day so i can go with you”

“great! my ex should be there too so after that he should stop bothering me too”

maybe it was all just in your head but you felt like you saw joshua tense a little at the mention of your ex, “has he texted you since?”

“i think he’s finally getting the hint. he doesn’t text as much anymore thankfully”

you were finishing up the last touches on your makeup when you heard someone ring your doorbell. you checked the camera to see it was joshua, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. you let him in, instantly taking note of his appearance.

you could hardly appreciate it from the cameras but in person you could see in detail how the suit he was wearing hugged his figure so well. the suit itself was black paired with a white button up and a purple tie.

“i remembered your dress was purple and thought i’d match the tie with it” joshua told you sheepishly when he saw how focused you were on it. “these are for you! i saw jeonghan today and asked him to make a bouquet for me”

you took the flowers, grinning at his thoughtfulness and thanking him, “is jeonghan still trying to win over your guys’ surgeon friend?”

joshua laughed at your comment, remembering how jeonghan had once called him at 3am to know what type of flowers his friend likes, “yeah he is. think she’ll say yes any day now”

you hummed, nodding. “how much time until we have to be there by the way?”

“about 45 minutes, it’ll only take us fifteen minutes to get there from here” he told you, checking his watch that you could just tell was expensive. you nodded again, telling him you’ll be right out after putting your dress on and grabbing a few things.

joshua waited on your couch for you to finish getting ready, scrolling through his phone to pass time. after a few minutes, he looked up when he heard you clear your throat nervously.

“you look amazing, yn. really, you do” and joshua wasn’t lying. he always thought you were pretty and right now was no different. but joshua bit back those thoughts though, admitting to himself would mean he’d also have to admit that he can’t ever have you. “so uh, you ready to go?” joshua winced at the lump in his throat and the way his voice cracked ever so slightly, and he was grateful for the fact that you were checking over the things in your purse one last time so you didn’t notice it.

you nodded and the both of you made your way to his car.

joshua was oddly quiet on the car ride, opting to just play music to fill the silence. when you arrived at the restaurant, joshua opened the door for you and helped you out. “the restaurant’s technically part of some five star hotel” he explained when you looked at it a little confused.

“ohh it looks really pretty” you smiled up at him while he held your hand leading you to the entrance.

joshua told the receptionist his name and she led you both over to where joshua and his family were waiting. when you actually saw them, the nerves finally hit you. what if you accidentally let slip that you and joshua weren’t really dating? what if you embarrass joshua?

joshua seemed to take notice of your nerves, squeezing your hand gently and whispering a “you’ll be fine, they’re going to love you”.

and it seems joshua was right. the night did go smoothly and you congratulated joshua’s cousin for her graduation. his family was kind, they didn’t once make you feel awkward or uncomfortable, instead complimenting you and making sure you didn’t feel left out.

by the time the dinner was over you were honestly sad that you’d have to leave his family, they were so fun you wanted to be with them more often. you left for a few minutes to go to the bathroom and when you came back you found joshua looking for you.

“joshua? what’s up?” taking note of how he looked a little annoyed and out of breath.

“yn i’m so sorry. my uncle just told me now that they’d booked rooms for all us to stay at the hotel tonight. if you feel uncomfortable with it i can just say you have a work thing tomorrow and we can’t stay” you really didn’t mind staying, but you were surprised and did feel guilty that they paid for you. he wasn’t saying it for your sake but you knew joshua secretly wanted to stay. his job makes it hard for him to see his family often so he’d appreciate this time with them. at the same time, you knew that staying would only make you more regretful of the fact that joshua didn’t feel the same about you.

“it’s fine, i don’t mind staying”

surprisingly enough, you’d managed to fall asleep pretty quick considering when you fell asleep joshua was still taking a shower.

when joshua got out he saw you on the bed and couldn’t help the soft smile breaking at his features. he saw your phone was still unlocked, a video still playing. ‘you must’ve fallen asleep watching it’.

he was about to turn it off before rolling his eyes at the texts from your ex again. he was about to block it for you until an idea crossed his mind. joshua fought mentally with himself as he debated whether or not he should go through with it. he sent a picture the two of you had taken together earlier to your ex, a ‘can u leave us alone ..?’ text attached to it while he silently prayed you wouldn’t think he was crossing any lines by doing so.

you met up with joshua a lot more after the dinner with his family. but the both of you getting closer was not doing anything to help your own feelings. joshua by no means felt the same about you. when you’d gotten to know joshua and the people close to him, you learnt that he was always the bold one when it came to people he liked. he’d always be the one to ask someone out, the one to go the extra mile for them. so the fact that he hadn’t done that for you, or even implied he wanted to, it wasn’t hard to assume that he just simply didn’t like you in that way. joshua wanted you as a friend and nothing more or less and you just had to live happily with that.

the reunion was soon. you’d texted joshua about it again, reminding him the address and time it was. you noticed your ex stopped texting you and part of you felt a little disappointed at it. you were grateful he finally took the hint but sad because what if this meant joshua wouldn’t have to keep up the act anymore? you were aware you probably seemed crazy and pathetic clinging onto a fake relationship that was only proposed for convenience, but that’s how you felt and you couldn’t help it and were too tired of it all to make an excuse.

dressed in a plain black tee paired with black slacks and a blazer, joshua picked you up for the reunion. as hard as you’d tried to make it seem like nothing was up, you knew joshua could tell. you silently hoped he would just assume it’s nerves because you still hadn’t thought of a way to tell him that you wanted to break off the agreement of fake dating.

why was this so complicated? it’s not like you two were actually dating so it’s not like it’s an actual breakup, but it still felt like you were losing something. what if joshua only talked to you so much was because he needed someone that was willing to pretend to be his girlfriend?

you shook the thoughts out of your head as you both pulled up to the place the reunion was being held. stepping out, you could already see some familiar faces, smiling and hugging them whenever they came to greet you.

the night went by with you catching up with old classmates, introducing them to joshua too. it was scary how well he was able to get along with people instantly. you were honestly surprised that your ex hadn’t bothered you all night, guess he saw joshua and backed off.

when you decided to leave the reunion, joshua suggested you both grab dinner somewhere. the food served at the reunion wasn’t the best so the both of you hadn’t eaten much all night. and that’s how the both of you ended up in the parking lot of some takeout place, laughing while you both told stories of your high schools together.

it was fun, and you hated the part of yourself that always made you overthink. ‘none of this is even real, joshua doesn’t care about you like that. so stop thinking this means the two of you are really dating’.

“yn, what’s wrong?” joshua sounded alarmed, and it was only then you took notice of the tears welling up in your eyes, rubbing aggressively at them immediately.

“think that the contacts are just irritating my eyes, don’t worry” you assured him but he still didn’t look satisfied with your answer.

“here let me help you-”

“it’s fine joshua” you sighed, “look about this whole pretending to be dating thing. i really can’t do it anymore. pretending to be in a relationship with you is killing me-”

“fine. i’m sorry if i did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. it was stupid of me to send that picture to your ex-”

“what picture?” you looked up at him confused, what the hell was he talking about?

“the one i sent to your ex and i told him that we were happy and to leave us alone..”

“is that why he stopped bothering me? oh well i didn’t know about that but thanks because it’s the only thing that managed to shut him up”

“wait what? so then what are you mad at me about?” he pouted.

you stayed silent. you knew exactly where this was headed and if it carried on you knew it’d lead to you spilling your guts to him, and you weren’t sure you could do that. because if you did you’d lose joshua forever.

“nothing, don’t worry about it” you mumbled, going back to swirling the plastic spoon around the ice cream in your cup.

“no no no” you heard joshua say, his fingers holding on to the underside of your jaw gently so that you turned your attention to him. “tell me, yn”

“i can’t” you whispered, tears welling up again, “if i do i’ll lose you forever. i don’t think i can do that, shua” you knew tears were freely spilling past your eyes at this point but you couldn’t care.

“yn, i promise you, you’re not going to lose me. i love you far too much to let you go” you still shook your head at him sniffling and unbelieving of his words. “yn you mean so much to me that i’m willing ignore my feelings for you because i know you don’t feel the same way. you mean so much to me that i’d rather wake up knowing i can’t have you the way i want then to wake up not having you in my life at all. you mean so much to me yn, so please don’t think i’d try leaving you”

you sat, stunned at joshua’s confession. it was like he could read your heart and turned all the feelings and words you wanted to give him into his own. he looked at you warily for a few seconds, scared you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings. if only he knew how much you’d been thinking the same about him for months.

you inched closer to him, closing your eyes as you brushed your lips over his. joshua tensed before melting into the kiss too, and your heart grew warmer and how you could feel him smile into the kiss.

when you both pulled away, you were both smiling, “you know this doesn’t serve as a confession right? i want you to list every single thing that made you like me!”

you laughed at his words, whining “no don’t make me say it, you just want to tease me”

“oh so you’re allowed to hear me pour my heart out to you but if i wanna hear you say it back it’s too much?” he jokingly pouted, bringing you closer for a hug while he fought off his own giggles hearing yours.

🏷️ @smilehui @suzuyamitsuki @minhui896

#seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #joshua fluff #joshua hong x reader #joshua imagines #svt imagines #svt joshua x reader #svt angst #seventeen angst #hong jisoo x reader #joshua x reader

[thehmn]

Just some follow up thoughts/responses on my last post.

When I say I’m a cleaner people on the internet often feel like they have to be nice about it but it’s okay. I know it’s seen as demeaning low-paying work in a lot of countries but here in Denmark it’s considered a proper respectable job that pays pretty well. I’m paid way more than people who answer phones at call centers (like when you buy a ticket over the phone) and only slightly less than my sister’s job as a journalist despite her getting a fancy degree. I’m only balancing on the poverty line because my ADHD is keeping me from working full time, but at the same time cleaning is perfect for me. I get to move around a bunch and I don’t work the same place every day.

And the pandemic really made people understand the value of cleaners. At the start of the pandemic most businesses didn’t feel safe having someone like me visit them because I visit a bunch of places and is around strangers all the time. They thought “Yeah it’s not going to be as nice as usual but surely we can swipe our own floors” That lasted all of one month before they changed their minds. People are messy (especially with coffee) so keeping a workplace clean requires dedicated time. Also, so far I haven’t had Covid once because, you know, even cleaners like to stay clean.

Trust me, if you’ve ever had the thought “Oh well, gives the cleaner something to do. It’s their job anyway” after spilling something you might as well start being rude to waiters and cashiers too. We have plenty to do even if nobody ever spilled anything. Do you think the dust just blows away? Or alternatively, have you been wondering why your workplace is so dusty? Might it have something to do with the coffee stains on the wall that keep disappearing? Cleaners aren’t talked about a lot in conversations about treating essential workers better because we usually show up after you go home but that doesn’t make it any less rude.

And talking about essential workers, remember that list that made the rounds on the internet during the pandemic of what jobs should be considered essential and non-essential and how people got really up in arms about artists being on the non-essential side? As someone who literally got half my pay from cleaning and the other half from working as an artist at the time, my job as a cleaner was a 100% more important during a pandemic. “But people are stuck indoors. They need entertainment for morale and not going stir crazy” I’m sorry but there’s an almost limitless well of entertainment on the internet you haven’t consumed yet. Yeah, I want to see (and make) new art too but trust me, it would mean nothing if we had to walk around in filth. There are a lot of other situations where artists would be more important than cleaners but a pandemic ain’t it.

And finally, I kept saying robot cleaner instead of Roomba in my last post because Roomba is a brand name. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Roomba in the wild despite seeing loads of robot vacuums.

Have a lovey, hopefully clean day ✨

#humontalks #cleaner

[drefear]

Hail to the King

Chapter 2: It All Comes Back to You

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs. 

Tw: masturbating (male) hints of trauma and past abusive relationship, drinking, a lil more of possessive and creepy Miguel. 

AN: I have to say I feel like some of this might be kinda shitty because it was a bit rushed, but I also hate slow paced plots, so I guess I can’t help it. Hope you like it!

You.

The world was blurry as your eyes lost focus for a bit. Nothing seemed real. You thought you might wake up and everything would be normal again. No crazy mob bosses, no blow jobs in the office, no scheduled sex, none of it.

Who the fuck was this guy?

His life was so far from any type of common man’s that you were almost impressed. Fine pressed designer suits, women on their knees during his lunch break, meetings about hard drugs. For a building so beautifully kept and full of charming people, it sure was a mystery. Was everyone just sleeping with different people throughout the day? Were they also snorting lines off of the bathroom counter or cooking meth in the kitchen? What other dirty deeds were done in this place?

Lyla knocked on your door, saying something about setting up your new phone and calendar.

“And the blue events in the calendar are strictly private for Miguel.” She added, to which you saw that- yep. That meeting was blue. You mentally slapped yourself in the face and listened to the rest of what she had to say.

“Ok, that should be it. Your new phone is set up, and it also has the company card connected to it already, so you don’t need a physical card. Miguel set me a message about your shopping spree later, but I raised the budget he gave you to an extra ten thousand. Just in case ya really need something that might cross that line. And whatever you get, I do the paperwork so I’ll just write it up as an investment, like our donations to charity.” She shrugged and turned, blowing you a little kiss as she exited the room.

Your mind assaulted your conscious thoughts once she was gone, remembering how he looked only thirty minutes ago. Head back in ecstasy, eyes never wavering from yours as he orgasmed and slammed up into that girl's throat. You shivered from the memories and stood up abruptly, needing to move around before the warmth in your core spread and created any type of physical arousal.

Your phone buzzed, seeing Miguel’s name light up the screen. Unlocking your phone, only the words ‘Come to my office now.’ showed up and your feet began to move towards your door when you stopped.

A million thoughts danced behind your eyes and you smirked, tired of him already.

‘No.’ is all you answered before exiting your office and shutting the door loudly behind you so he knew you’d be gone. You confidently walked to the elevator and tossed your hair over your shoulder. He wanted your unfiltered thoughts? Well then, he had no idea what he signed up for.

Standing in the elevator, you saw him walk out of his office as well and make eye contact with you, making you flash back to what you’d seen earlier.

In seconds, you realized something as you stood ten feet away now. He knew you wouldn’t know about the color coded schedule. He planned that little power play. He was showing his dominance, like a dog peeing on his territory. A show of who was in charge and what you were to him. A plaything.

This split second of awareness made you even more confident in your defiance, as you saw him begin to close in on the elevator. The doors began to close and you smiled, waving to him right before they shut.

The ride to the lobby was serene, like the calm after the storm. Your day had been intense to say the least. A lot of arguing, thinking, absorbing, and borderline sexual assault on your eyes. But it wasn’t a bad day. In fact, this all gave you a thrill you didn’t know you needed.

Once on the ground floor, you walked outside and waved to a taxi, getting in once one stopped. Scrolling over the list you were given by Lyla, you stopped at one stare in particular.

“Take me to Hermès.” And you were gone.

Standing in the dressing room, the whole world felt like a scene from Pretty Woman. You twirled in tight, business dresses that you thought they only wore in movies about billionaires with red rooms. The color of your favorite so far was a lightweight white dress, but it seemed a bit much for the office, so you tucked it away and decided if you needed a sexy dress for an event, you’d pull it out.

You’d decided to go on a shopping spree on Fifth Avenue, where you’d been fired the previous day, and eat lunch right where this all had begun.

Sitting at a table, you requested Peter kindly and he made his way over in an instant. “I am so sorry, it was completely out of my control! I didn’t-“ he apologized and you just shook your head.

“It’s ok. I understand now. How about you get me a white wine and we call it water under the bridge?” You requested and he nodded, fetching it with hast. It was a great meal and once you were done, you gave Peter and Gwen both a hug.

“You know, since you technically got a huge promotion, we should celebrate! Go out tonight, get some drinks?” Gwen asked and you quickly agreed. A few drinks sounds exactly like what you needed.

Now beyond overstimulated, you made your way home with around thirty thousand dollars worth of clothing.

And when you saw a moving truck outside of your complex, you remembered that you were indeed moving.

Hours of tossing shit in boxes and taping them closed, you were packed and in the moving van on your way to your new apartment. You were still reeling with this whole world and how quickly things had spun into a web of insanity.

Leaning your head back against the side of the van, the adrenaline was starting to wear off and the reality began to sink in.

Arriving at your new place, the large men brought in the big pieces of furniture you decided to keep, which was really just your couch, bed, and coffee table. Everything else was unneeded and ugly anyway. You tried to help as much as possible, but quickly opted for carrying in boxes and garbage bags you’d packed in a rush. It was over just as quickly as it started and soon, you were sitting on your floor cross legged and staring at the boxes, then glanced at the shopping bags that were full of expensive dresses and clothing. That sounded like a lot more fun than unpacking your old sweats and knickknacks.

Pulling everything out and placing it on hangers, your eyes glanced at a specific outfit you’d chosen that’d be perfect to celebrate with Gwen tonight. Pulling on a white halter dress, you enjoyed the little bits of side boob and the way the thigh had a slit that showed more skin. The light fabric made it comfortable and easy to move in, and with a quick pair of strappy heels with sparkling rhinestones all over from Jimmy Choo, you grabbed your new Louis Vuitton purse and smiled. Maybe this job would be so terrible.

Texting Gwen, you also decided to invite Lyla and Jess. Lyla agreed to come out, whereas Jess said she didn’t have a sitter for the boys and would come out once her husband got home from work. A girls night was exactly what you needed, and everything about the feeling of hopping on the train and getting eyes from a few good looking men made you hum with pride. Ignoring all of the bullshit from the past two days, you liked Gwen a lot and she’s become someone you trusted even only knowing her for about a week. She had an authenticity about her that made you feel like she was honest and brave.

Lyla also made you laugh with how she always had something to say back. Her fun loving attitude was one you almost felt jealous of, how she seemed so relaxed. Jessica had a bad ass vibe to her, like everything she did could be documented and made into a comic or story. Like some sort of legend in the making.

You wanted to be like them in so many ways, you’d have to start taking notes and learning how they seemed to be so damn cool.

Stepping off the train and hurrying towards the club Gwen suggested, you couldn’t help but smile. You’re first time clubbing in Nueva York! It was so exciting, seeing people waiting outside of the club in a long line like in movies you’d seen. Waving to Gwen, who was already on line, you caught up with her. Her outfit fit her so well, a black shirt leather jacket over a dark silver mini dress with black tights with rips in them and black platform boots with chains down the sides. She looked like a rockstar, and that wasn’t too far from the truth. She smiled wide and grabbed your hand.

“This is going to be so much fun!” She added and you couldn’t agree more. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab yours from behind and saw a familiar pair of heart shaped glasses.

“Lyla!” Gwen cheered before you even turned around fully, all hugging together. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, how’s Mr. Grumpy pants?” The blonde asked and Lyla just rolled her eyes.

“Cranky as usual, but he comes in handy for some things. Follow me.” She pulled you both out of the line and to the front where many people were giving you all dirty looks. A security guard only took a second to look at Lyla and moved the ropes for her and you to come in, not even bothering to check your ids. You looked at Gwen in surprise and she just nodded, as if telling you to keep your cool.

The club was packed beyond belief, and a girl in a bodysuit and fishnets let you to a large booth-table with velvet black couches and a large bottle of champagne on the table. “Who did this?”

“I may have called ahead and three around Miguel’s name.” Lyla shrugged, grabbing a flute of champagne and filling it with the bubbly alcohol. She handed you each one more and tilted her glass to inspire a toast. “To our new recruit in the Spider society!” She cheersed and you blushed at the attention, Gwen whooping and hollering.  The thrum of the heavy bass and heat from the moving bodies made you almost lightheaded, enjoying the free feeling from the liquid in your cup. Another bottle was brought out once Jess arrived and the four of you swayed a bit to the beat, to which you grabbed Gwen’s hand and attempted to pull her to the dance floor. Lyla followed with Jess and you all moved, swaying your hips to the rap playing in the dim lights. The flash of Lyla’s phone camera made you cover your face a little, still smiling and not stopping your dance, swiveling in a seductive motion and feeling the heat between your legs begin to rise from the feeling of the eyes around you watching. Jess nudged you and pointed to a man at the bar, a bit taller and thin in a dress shirt. You made eye contact with the man and the temperature of your chest rose once more. You made your way over to where he was, raising a hand at the bartender as you ordered a drink. He leaned over and spoke.

“On my tab.” His voice was low, eyes catching yours once more and making you feel very aware of your surroundings. A blush creeped onto your face and you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself and you returned the favor,  shaking his hand gently. Big Sean pumped around you both as you talked for what felt like an hour, light conversation giving you a feeling similar to a high. It had been a while since you’d enjoyed speaking to someone like this, chemistry and familiarity.

“Is that you?” You heard someone speak from behind you and call your name, turning to face the last person you thought would be in front of you.

“Eddie?” You gasped, fear coursing through the previously hot blood in your veins, cold as ice now from this familiar face. “How did you-”

“I heard you moved here a few weeks ago and came to visit. Nothing like a friendly face, right?” You searched around for your female friends in vain, finding no one you even recognized. He slipped his hand into yours, frozen with horror as he squeezed, something you knew was actually a warning. “How about we find somewhere to talk?”

“Actually, I’m with my coworkers, now is a bad time.” You tried to remove your hand from his and felt him unrelenting, his grip tightening. “Please, not here.” You begged, pleading with him and knowing you’d get nowhere.

“There you are!” Jess’s voice rang through as she pushed through the crowd, Lyla and Gwen behind her. “We’re about to get another bottle- who’s this?” She raised a brow questioningly at Eddie, who stepped closer with a small smile.

“I’m Eddie, nice to meet you,” He shook her hand and her eyes glanced to yours, hopefully seeing the feeling of terror you were trying to show her.

“Right,” Jess pulled you closer to her and slipped her arm into yours, “well, sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re having a girls only night, so she’ll have to talk to you another time.” Jess secured her hand around your arm and smiled, knowing exactly what you needed. Behind you, Lyla had signaled security and had them coming closer, but a voice made everyone stop moving instantly.

“Actually, I think it’s time we all go.” A deep voice said from your right and you looked up to see your boss.

“How-“ Gwen asked but was quickly cut off by the glare Miguel sent her.

“I saw the videos Lyla posted and came to celebrate as well.” From his body language, that definitely was not his true intentions, but you were left in the dark as Jess and Lyla looked extremely nervous, like they’d just got caught doing something very bad.

Gwen leg the way out as Jess and Lyla followed, to which you began to walk forward with them, but a hand grabbed your wrist once more and you came face to face with Harry, who’d been caught in the crossfire of your drama.

“When will I see you again?” He begged slightly, a small smile on his lips until Miguel stood in between you two and sneered at him a bit.

“Get your hands off my employee.” His voice was dangerous, a presence only a lion would challenge. Without letting anyone interject, he dragged you out through the crowd and into the street lights. A hoard of men in black clothing stood outside with the girls, seemingly waiting for you and Miguel. You all climbed into a black SUV where all of the seats faced each other and both Jess and Lyla hung their heads, Gwen holding your hand in concern.

“What the hell was that, Lyla?!” His voice was loud, accusatory. “Are you trying to start a fight?”

“Of course not, I just wanted to-“

“I don’t even want to hear it. And you, Jess? You should know better than anyone what that could have led to!” His tone made you coward backwards a bit, Jess unwavering in her confidence.

“Who do you think you’re speaking to like that? Lyla and I were with her and Gwen, we were perfectly safe.” She defended and Lyla nodded, Gwen looking up just as confused as you.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked quietly and as if he just noticed you were there, his eyes were cautious. Everything was silent for a moment before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“That nightclub is owned by another mob in Nueva, a smaller one, but it would still be a problem if anything else had happened. They would think I sent spies to their club.” He added the end as an example. You looked down as Gwen rubbed your shoulder from worry.

“I’m taking you all to a different club, one that won’t cause any unnecessary issues-“

“Actually…” you started and but your lip before continuing. “I think I just want to go home. I’m too tired to stay out.” You didn’t dare look up at anyone else, eyes trained on your shinny shoes that you were so excited about a few hours ago. How did everything keep happening so fast?

The car stopped outside of your building and you got out, followed by Miguel. He tapped the top of the car and the rest of the girls were sent home. You both walked in and onto the elevator.

“I don’t need an escort-“

“This is also my building.” He interrupted you and you finally looked up at him, watching as his eyes stayed focused on the buttons of the elevator. He tapped your floor and then the top floor. Of course he had the penthouse.

You stayed soundless, the exhaustion finally hitting you and making you drag your feet. The doors opened and you glanced at him before just walking out.

“By the way.” He spoke before you could walk too far, turning to look into his eyes for the first time that night. “Next time my office door is shut, remember to knock.” The metal doors closed and the memory of him fucking into that woman’s throat was then fresh on your mind.

Miguel’s head fell back against the metal. Lyla had posted those videos of you dancing on her account and he’d seen them when she started not answering his messages, then watching how you moved your body in that adorable white  dress. And the way it moved up your thighs while you danced-

Miguel opened his eyes as the ding of the elevator sounded that he’d reached his penthouse. Walking into his dining room, he shed himself from the suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt, stretching his shoulders and tossing the shirt into a hamper close to his closet. Unbuckling his belt, Miguel let out a breath of relief as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable. Sitting down on his bed, he reached for his laptop and settled under the covers. Scrolling through a few documents, he pulled up his background search of you. Your photo popped up with some of your social media. Pictures from the beach, a few from birthdays, and some family photos, you seemed completely normal.

But something was off.

Miguel knew he was intimidating, it was part of his stature that made his job a little easier. You weren’t afraid of him, you kept your ground and fought back to him.

But tonight, you had fear in your eyes when you saw that guy. What was his name again? Adam? Who knows, but he saw that slight hesitation and anxiety in you that he didn’t recognize. You were scared of that guy.

He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d saw you as he was getting his normal de-stressing from one of the girls in the lower levels, something many women around him volunteered for. She’s come up and offered sex, but he just needed a mouth to fuck.

And then you walked in with that plain outfit and sensible shoes, holding your tablet like you’d been in a rush. And he couldn’t look away. You should have been the one wrapped around his dick, he wanted to hear you gagging on him as he thrusted upwards and grunted. He wanted to cum inside your mouth, not someone random woman’s from marketing. He wanted you.

Unknowingly, his hand had traveled to his boxers and he’d begun rubbing himself to the thought of you.

All he could imagine was you mouthing off to him, and him bending you over the kitchen counter in his apartment, holding one arm behind your back as the other moved to grasp anything within reach as he took you from behind. Miguel rolled his eyes back at the thought of your warm hole welcoming him as he licked two fingers of his free hand and rubbed circles on your clit until you were practically pushing him away from the intensity of your orgasm. But no, he wouldn’t let you get away that easily, he wanted to feel it around him, so he would angle his hips a little more upward, hitting that soft spot that made you arch your back into him more and let out broken moans.

As if on cue, white ropes of his own mess hit his chest and he looked down in surprise, having forgotten what his hand had been doing. He sighed and got up to rinse himself off with a softening cock and an empty mind. The single thing on his brain when he tossed and turned in his sleep that night?

You.

Gwen’s outfit

Your outfit

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3

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