#seems like richard kissed his cheek | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpsserene · 10 months

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𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫

summary: slightly less innocent, virgin!reader has had her view of pleasure shifted. her libido has increased to insane levels after she finally allowed her boyfriends to fix her…dry spell. charles and max have no issues with helping her ride out her newfound sexual appetite, and figure that she may be ready to take the next step. or, more accurately, take the next hand. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. no penetrative sex. corruption kink. handjobs. thigh riding. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. charles leclerc is a brat. orgasm denial. there's smidge of humor in here somewhere i think. slight humiliation kink. word count: 4.2k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: gun • doja cat

preface: AHHHH OMG I HAD THIS IN MY QUEUE AND THE DATE WAS 9/12 INSTEAD OF 12/9 I WAS IN THE WOODS WITH SPOTTY CONNECTION ALL DAY AND I HAVE TBLR NOTIFICATIONS OFF ON MY PHONE I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT! ALL FUTURE EPISODES WILL BE POSTED AT 12 PM ON THEIR RELEASE DAYS!

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it’s laughable. you can’t believe that you almost bought a vibrator instead of telling your boyfriends that you were ready to start the sexual aspect of your relationship. actually, it kind of makes you mad—you could’ve been experiencing the most mind blowing levels of pleasure years ago, if you had just gotten over your own insecurity.

max and charles had been dating each other for a couple years before they found you. you were a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, and they were enamored with you as soon as they were introduced. you cringe whenever they reminisce over the first time you met them—the men think it’s the cutest first meeting ever.

they met you on a yacht in monaco. an older member of the ferrari team was retiring and decided to have a relaxed celebratory brunch on a chartered yacht. charles, of course, would be attending; he’s sure he’s most likely contractually obligated to go, but he also enjoys going to these sorts of events, he flourishes and thrives in social settings. however, on this particular day, max and charles had already planned for a date.

when charles had been forwarded the invitation from andrea (his trainer), who had texted him threats of bodily harm if he didn’t show up—he whined and groveled to max about having to reschedule their date. max had shushed charles’ dramatics, and simply pulled out his phone to show a text thread between him and brad (his trainer), who sent him the invitation to the yacht party. charles made a noise of surprise; this brunch is more relaxed than he thought. max shrugged and pressed a kiss to charles cheek–all they have to do is make an appearance, greet who needs to be greeted, congratulate who needs to be congratulated, and then they can sneak away and leave early for their date.

that was the plan. and everything seemed to be going according to the plan. they had boarded the vessel (nobody knew the rivals had come together), everyone assumed they had just arrived at the same time. they quickly congratulated the retiree, and charles separated from max to go and charm everybody on the boat, while max had gone to take advantage of the brunch spread.

the dutchman was halfway through his second plate of finger food when charles had returned to his side, bringing their trainers and a few engineers along with him. the monegasque was stealing bites of food off his plate, and max gently tapped on the face of his richard mille watch to remind charles that they needed to start wrapping up.

except, joris had just boarded the yacht—and you were at his side.

charles choked on his bite of stolen food, and max distractedly patted his back to clear his airways. it was like time slowed down, their vision tunneled, and the noise of conversations around them quieted; at the sight of you. you were wearing this light, flowy, orange sundress that complimented your warm brown skin, accessorized with gold jewlery, a pair of heeled tan sandals, and your curly hair was free and blowing in the breeze. you kept your gaze lowered, like you were fearing making eye contact with anybody on board, and you turned to slightly hide behind joris as you frantically whispered to him.

charles and max had decided then and there; they need to know you.

you had parted from joris at the sound of someone calling for you and the sight of you walking away, broke the trance the two drivers had been under.

when charles’ friend made his way over, they were quick to interrogate him about you, and why exactly he’s never introduced you to them before. joris threatened them before he gave them permission to pursue you (not that they needed it), and refused to answer any of their questions about you. he told them to go talk to you, and warned them to be gentle with you—as you have a more shy and introverted personality. it took nearly thirty minutes for charles and max to find where you disappeared too. you were chatting to the retiree, and as soon as you wrapped up the conversation—max inserted himself in your path, and ‘accidentally’ bumped into you.

you stumbled briefly, finding yourself bumping into charles as well. you frantically apologized to the two drivers, eyes wide with embarrassment—and max and charles found themselves vehemently reassuring you that it was their fault, and that you don’t need to apologize.

once you calmed, max started to test the waters.

“it was completely my fault. i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was walking but, i got distracted—because you look too beautiful in this dress.”

your mouth parted in surprise and you giggled awkwardly, not expecting the compliment (charles had to muffle his snort, max is incredibly corny), “oh! thank you—it’s really the dress that’s beautiful.”

the monegasque stepped in, “ah, no that cannot be. the dress only compliments how pretty you are.”

you hummed, eyes flickering between the two of them nervously, and caved to their flattery.

“mmm, thank you…the orange works with my skin tone pretty well.”

“it does,” max agreed with a soft smile, “i must be your favorite driver—since, you’ve dressed in dutch orange.”

your eyes widened, as you giggled at his bold claim, laughing harder when charles’ pretends to be angry at max’s words. the couple watches as your smile shifted from something sweet, to something teasing as you fumbled over what to say in response.

“oh? well, if i did dress for my favorite driver, it would be lando norris. because, this color is more similar to papaya than your dutch orange.”

max scoffed, and charles bursted out laughing—the two of them not expecting the teasing from you, based on how joris led them to believe that you were the shyest thing to walk on earth.

that interaction had completely cemented their urge to date you. they ended up staying at the yacht party, just talking to you the entire time, enjoying making you blush and fluster, flirting around the limits of how much affection you could take from them. they missed their dinner reservation, but found themselves taking you out to dinner somewhere near the waterfront.

at the end of the night, you exchanged phone numbers with them and they sweetly told you that they’d reach out to you for a second date. you had made a noise of surprise, completely disbelieving that you were on a date, or that they’d want to see you again. but, charles and max were quick to make their intentions clear as they realized they may have been moving too quickly for you.

you can’t believe that was over two years ago. the boys had been so kind with working hard for your trust, and with a final conversation about how this relationship would work—you had agreed to be their girlfriend. of course, you had your stipulation of not being ready to have sex, but the boys did take that in stride and didn’t try to coerce you into changing that boundary. matter of fact, they had even offered to stop having sex between the two of them if it made you uncomfortable—which you disagreed with on the spot; they didn’t need to limit their actions with each other just because you needed extra time.

and extra time, ended up being two years. charles and max had waited two years without complaining once, about the fact that you still weren’t ready to have sex with them. apparently, the final aspects that you needed to realize you were ready to have sex were: being unable to get yourself off for a month while they were in the midst of a triple header…and also that, you trust them with your entire soul.

and goddamn, did their patience result in a valuable reward.

ever since max and charles had cured your dry spell by giving you the most life-changing orgasm from riding max’s thigh, you’ve been insatiable.

it’s like your horny-meter was struck by lightning and was overloaded and stuck at the highest setting—it feels like a perpetual ovulation week. it feels like you can’t look at max’s thighs without getting wet, it feels like you can’t hold charles’ hand without your knees buckling. it wasn’t like you were never horny before the thigh-riding incident (max finds the title hilarious), but to be consistently desperate—you’ve never felt like this before. it’s like the monegasque and the dutchman have awoken your sex drive and shifted it into high gear. your libido has been so insanely high that the men have pretty much offered themselves to you as free-use.

you wake up horny? choose your fighter: charles’ thigh or max’s thigh. you get turned on by charles kissing your cheek? ride his thigh. your tummy knots up when max calls you pretty girl? ride his thigh. your panties get wet when charles comes back from getting a haircut? ride his thigh. your clothes fall off when max smiles at you? ride his thigh. your brain turns to mush when charles and max make out? ride their thighs, twice.

you’ve been so pleasure-crazed that you ended up getting a friction burn from how often you were using their thighs.

you whimpered in shame as charles rubbed aloe vera on the irritated skin between your legs.

“vior (see)?” charles said to max, who was sitting on the bed next to you holding your hand, “she has sensitive skin—we should not have let her use our thighs so often.”

“ah,” max dismissed, ignoring your mortified whine, he smirked at charles, “she’s just learned how good we can make her feel—forgive her desperation, schatje?”

charles lightly presses on the inflamed skin, and you slightly hiss in pain. he stares at max with an unimpressed expression,

“and now feeling good too often has her feeling bad, non?”

charles resumed his gentle massage of aloe vera, as he continued to bicker with max about you, like you weren’t lying right there. mortification had the melanated skin of your cheeks flushing with a visible blush, and you muffled your embarrassed whimper into max’s thigh. the humiliation of your boyfriends discussing your barely-sex related injury as if you aren’t present should have been horny-level reduction material—but secretly, you enjoyed it; just a little bit.

with a pained gasp, you slammed your thighs shut around charles’ hand when he passed over a more seriously-raw area of skin. his hand was forced up, and it brushed firmly against your cunt—and that previously pained gasp transformed into a moan of pleasure. the conversation around you silenced abruptly. you kept your eyes tightly shut, refusing to pull away from the safe haven of max’s thigh. you heard charles laugh disbelievingly, and with his free hand he easily pulled your thighs apart with little effort. the casual show of strength only had you getting wet.

he made a show of flexing the hand that was entrapped between your thighs, before he dropped two of his fingers on top of your panties and guided them to circle over your clit through the thin cloth. your eyes flew open, and with a squeal your hips bucked up to chase his hand; but he was too quick, and pulled away, using that same hand to hold your hips down on the bed.

“you’re so horny that you completely forgot about the friction-burn you have on your thighs from your previously extremely horny activities,” max deadpanned, staring down at you with a blank expression.

“i can’t help it,” you murmured shyly, “sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” max stated, releasing his grasp of your hand to brush his thumb across your cheek, “nothing’s touching your cunt for a week.”

“huh? WHAT? why? no—why not?” you blurted out in confusion, ignoring charles’ snort.

“liefje—you could barely handle charles rubbing the gel into your skin; you are too sore and inflamed. no pillows, no hands, no thighs.”

you humphed, knowing max is right, but not wanting to admit it.

“that’s torture! i just started getting to experience real pleasure and now i can’t even cum for a week?!” you whined up at max with pleading eyes.

“you went without using our thighs for two years—you can handle a week, mon coeur,” charles patted your hip with an annoying smile, before he climbed off the bed to put the gel away.

“charles, don’t tease her,” max sighed, “it’s just a week, pretty girl. you’ll be fine.”

you are not fine.

it’s the slowest time has ever passed in your entire life. honestly, the nerve of your boyfriends to have beautifully muscled thighs around you. you’ve been put in horny jail–seriously! the two men seem to have a radar for whenever you start to get turned on. no matter how hard you try to suppress any changes in your body language or facial expression, they sus you out in a few seconds. it’s uncanny; before you even open your mouth to try and persuade them into anything, they squish your cheeks together and say, “not yet,” and then walk away to give you space to calm down. every instance of this in the first couple of days was more mortifying than the aloe-vera gel application situation (which max now applies for you since charles couldn’t refrain from teasing you), but you quickly became desensitized.

max will not budge. he lets you whine, grovel, beg, promise, and plead. he sits through your whole monologue of desperation on day four, and smiles the entire time. when you finish your expertly delivered request to be allowed one orgasm from his thigh, he pats you on the ass and walks away. the amount of rage that filled you was probably unhealthy–how the fuck does he manage to be so unfazed?

charles, on the other hand, you could break. on day five, you trapped him in bed, sneakily convincing him to spend five more minutes with you while max brushed his teeth. you were quick to initiate sweet kisses, humming into the press of his lips, before you pull away and squirm on top of him to straddle his torso.

the love-tinted haze cleared from his eyes as soon a he puzzled out your motive, and the monegasque moved to guide you off his body, but you halted him, pressing a firm hand in the middle of his bare chest.

“c’mon cha–just let me, it’s been so long,” you pout down at him, doe-eyes wide and pleading, “don’t you wanna make me feel good?”

charles wavered–it has been so long. he doesn’t think he’d forget how your face looks as you orgasm, but it would be nice to see it again. you slowly grind your hips down on his, and charles manages to hold back any noises, but his eyes flutter in pleasure. the brunet halts your hips when he sees the brief flicker of discomfort appear in the furrow of your brows.

“ah, regarde toi (look at you)!” charles tuts disapprovingly, “you know you aren’t ready, just wait a little longer!”

you climb off of his lap, and bury your face in the pillow next to him, muffling a dramatic scream to make sure he knows how displeased you are. he rubs your back soothingly, letting you release your anger, before you flip over and huff.

“fine–whatever. two more days. two more days…for me,” you murmur, ignoring charles’ squint at your words, “just because i can’t do anything doesn’t mean you two can’t, right?”

charles shrugs his agreement, “yes, i guess. we haven’t came since you can’t. we were just planning to wait for your skin to recover.”

your heart warms at their abstinence, and the gears of your brain start turning.

“hmm. you know you don’t have to wait for me? i kind of got myself into this situation and it’s not fair for–”

“no. max and i are both responsible too,” charles cut you off, “we should’ve taken more care to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too far.”

“i don’t blame you guys–i was jumping the two of you everytime you so much as breathed in the same room as me. but, that’s not the point! i was going to say: shouldn’t i thank you guys properly?”

“quoi? how?” he tilted his head to the side in question.

“i mean, isn’t it time i learn how to make you feel good too? i’ve kind of taken advantage of you, and never thought about making sure you guys feel good, like me.”

“how can you say that, mon amour? you make us feel good everytime we make you feel good,” charles sees that you don’t quite believe him, “you don’t notice how tight our pants get when you sit on our thighs? after you’ve finished, we sneak away to the bathroom to relieve ourselves! trust me, we feel very good with you.”

“hey! that’s my point–i want to make you guys…cum,” you whispered, “not have you sneak away to go do it yourself. can’t you teach me? isn’t now the best time for me to learn when i can’t be distracted by my own orgasm?”

“as long as you avoid rubbing yourself on anything, i’m actually okay with this,” max’s voice carried from the doorway, causing you and charles to jump in surprise. neither of you heard him open the en-suite door.

the dutchman walked over and sat on the bed next to charles, who eagerly supported your suggestion now that max said it was okay.

“c-can…can we do it now?” you asked quietly, simultaneously afraid of a possible rejection and the idea itself.

the younger man hummed, and sat up next to max. he smirked at the blonde, “i’m sure he can’t say no to the opportunity of having me teach you how to touch him just the way he likes.”

you may have miscalculated, to some degree. does everything about max have to big? big mouth, big hands, big thighs, big…dick. your brain stops functioning at the sight—max sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread open comfortably, uncaring of how exposed he is, his cock half-hard and still growing where it rests on his thigh, and don’t forget his self-satisfied smirk at the sight of your shock. you squirm from your seat in between his legs and charles steadies you from his position behind you, bracketing your body within the two of them.

the monegasque shifts forward, hooking his chin on your shoulder with his chest pressed along your back, and hums softly, “all of that ,” charles pauses and moves his right hand to apply pressure on your navel, “is going to be deep inside of you soon.”

“ ‘s not gonna fit in me.”

“we’ll make it fit,” max states. you whimpered at his confident tone, and you could feel charles muffle his chuckle in the crook of your neck.

the click of the lube bottle opening caused you to flinch back into charles, who soothed you with a pat on the hip. the brunet carefully squeezed out a small amount of lube into your right palm and murmured instructions for you to warm up the liquid. he then guided your hand to grasp max’s dick, who sighed softly at your touch.

“touch him however you want, mon ange,” the monegasque directed, “get used to how he feels and then we can make him feel good.”

swallowing down your apprehension, you lightly trace a finger down his shaft, marveling at how he’s a few of your fingers in girth and decently longer than the size of your hand (that’s definitely not fitting inside of you, they have no idea what they’re talking about). you drag the tip of your pointer finger up along the vein on his underside to the head of his cock. the tip is flushed with an attractive shade of pink complimenting the pale skin of his body, and it’s a beautiful contrast to the brown skin on the back of your hand. you wrap your palm around him gently and brush your thumb over the head, making a noise of surprise at his cock twitching in your grasp. a drop of pre-cum beads in the slit and you curiously drag a finger to collect it; you pause, before you bring your finger to your mouth and flick out your tongue to taste it.

it almost tastes like nothing? slightly bitter, a little salty—but, it’s good. he tastes good.

max groans and the sound of his head falling back and hitting the headboard reminds you that the cock you’re feeling up is attached to him.

a broken rasp of, “fuck,” slips from his lips, and charles kisses your cheek in approval.

“ah-you’re so good at this already, mon amour,” charles cheered, “let’s give him a hand, together.”

he brings his left hand around your body to join yours around max’s, and leads you through the motions. he starts you on half strokes, having you circle your hand around the head, while he focuses on mimicking your motions around the base. you can see the muscles of max’s abdomen and thighs clenching with the effort of not thrusting forward into your hand.

“shit,” max moans, “the two of you will be the death of me.”

charles nips a mark right behind you ear, “move your hand like this—oui, just like that—and press your palm around the head—good girl—just keep doing that for me, mon amor.”

max groans roughly at the focused attention on the sensitive tip of his dick; he’s going to come embarrassingly quickly. the sight of charles teaching you how to give him a proper handjob is going to keep him up at night.

“liefje, you’re doing such a good job,” max pants, “going to make come already, pretty girl—are you going to lick my cum off your fingers too?”

you moan highly at his words, nodding your head quickly in agreement, eager to keep being good for him. max continues to run his mouth as he gets closer to orgasm: ‘you and charles should taste the cum off your hand together,’ ‘he can’t wait to get his hands and mouth on you,’ etc.

with a stuttered breath, max warns you that he’s cumming—and charles yanks your hand off of him; ruining max’s orgasm. the dutchman shouts in frustration, his hips bucking up freely now, trying to chase the delicious friction that was stolen from him.

with flushed cheeks, max yells, “what the fuck, charles!” and you turn to look at charles, who’s sitting behind you with an extra-pleased smirk on his face. the brat shrugs nonchalantly, not offering an explanation. you bring your hand back to grasp max’s cock—and repeat the same motion of twisting your palm around the head, to lead max back to an orgasm. he moans in relief, thankfully the edge of release didn’t slip away from him entirely—and then you bring your other hand up to make up for charles’.

all it takes is a few more synced strokes, and max cums. you feel the warmth of his release coat your fingers, but your eyes are stuck on his expression. his mouth parted slightly, eyes shut, his chest heaving, mouth red and flushed from where he was biting at his bottom lip, and you can see the pleasure washing over his face—goddamn, you wish you were feeling what he is. in the haze of appreciating how he looks when he comes, you fail to stop your hands from continuing your motions and max’s hands fly down to halt you once the pleasure slips into too-much.

when he makes eye-contact with you, you raise your cum-covered hand to your mouth and make a show out of tasting his cum. you moan sweetly and smack your lips—honestly, you don’t particularly like or dislike the taste, but the way max’s eyes widen at your display makes you think you’ll learn to love it. he watches you lick your hands clean, and murmurs out a faint, “what the actual hell, liefje.”

“and, you,” the older man’s expression hardens as he directs his cold gaze on charles, “we’re not touching you for two weeks.”

“por quoi?!,” the monegasque pretends as if he doesn’t know exactly what he did.

you and max both ignore charles’ whining, and you smile extra sweetly at max as you wiggle onto his lap, “may i use your thigh, please?”

he digs his thumb into the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you yelp lightly.

“two more days, liefje,” max orders, “and if you’re patient, you can have more than just my thigh.”

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pucksandpower · 11 months

Note

Hi!! I always see fics of Charles being the one who isn’t believed he’s in a relationship (and i eat it all up cause it’s such a fun trope 😌) but what if it’s the reader’s turn. Like she’s a normal university student who always talks about her boyfriend but her friends and her fellow students just don’t believe her so Charles decides to surprise her and just be the proof. Thanks in advance!!

Daydream

Charles Leclerc x engineering student!Reader

Summary: You are living the dream … except no one actually believes that your boyfriend is really your boyfriend

You walk into class after the winter break with a sun-kissed glow and a new watch on your wrist.

Your friend Matteo notices it immediately and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow, that has to be the most realistic looking fake I’ve ever seen! Where did you get it?” He asks with a grin.

You roll your eyes but smile back. “It’s not a fake. Charles gave it to me for Christmas.”

Your friends barely give you a chance to get the last word out before they burst out laughing. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance.

“Oh sure, I’m certain that your very real boyfriend, Charles Leclerc the Formula 1 driver, just happened to give you a €340,000 Richard Mille for Christmas,” your other friend Livia jokes.

“Come on guys, I’m serious! Charles and I have been dating for months now. We met when I was interning with Ferrari last year,” you insist.

But your friends just keep chuckling and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“If you were really dating an F1 driver, you would be posting cute couple-y pics all over Instagram. There’s no way anyone in that position could resist showing off a little,” Matteo argues.

You let out an exasperated sigh. You and Charles agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye for now to avoid media scrutiny. But your friends just see this as further proof that you’re making it all up.

“Maybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with an engineering student,” Livia quips.

That stings a bit, even though you know she doesn’t mean for it to.

You slump down in your chair, absentmindedly fiddling with the exquisite watch on your wrist. You hadn’t realized it was worth so much when Charles gave it to you. The way his eyes lit up when you unwrapped it on Christmas morning was priceless. He was so excited to spoil you in any way he could. And now your friends think it’s just a cheap fake.

Charles is always doing ridiculously romantic things like flying you out on a private jet just so you can spend any free weekends together and sending you bouquets of roses bigger than you are. But no one believes that he’s really your boyfriend. To them, it’s all just part of an elaborate scheme you’ve concocted.

You met Charles when you were one of ten engineering graduate students selected for a prestigious internship with Scuderia Ferrari. You spent six months working in Maranello, learning from some of motorsport’s brightest minds.

Charles took an interest in you immediately. He would come by your workstation in the aerodynamics lab, peppering you with thoughtful questions about your projects. You would discuss aerodynamic principles and simulations for hours. Even ex-team principal Mattia Binotto said the two of you had a visible “synergy.”

Your internship had since ended but your relationship with Charles continued. You tried to play it cool at first, not wanting to seem overly eager. The day after you went back to study in Milan, he asked you out to dinner. Your first date lasted five hours as you talked endlessly about everything under the sun. You were amazed at how you never ran out of things to discuss.

Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer. Charles would take weekend trips to Milan just to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. He told you that you grounded him and reminded him that there was more to life than racing.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend after inviting you to the Monaco Grand Prix, you were shocked but ecstatic. You knew then that your hectic schedules won’t make it easy but Charles is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He makes your heart race faster than a V12 engine.

You’re shaken from your reminiscing as Matteo waves a hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N! Come on, tell us where you got the watch. I want to get one too! It looks so identical to the real thing that we could probably sell it to some suckers on eBay.”

You shake your head with a huff. “Forget it, I’ll tell you all about my ‘fake’ boyfriend another time.”

For now, you’re just counting down the days until you can see Charles again.

No matter what anyone else may think, the two of you know that your love is real.

***

You’re humming along to your playlist as you drive Charles’ Purosangue on the winding roads leading to Milan. The SUV handles like a dream and you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having 715 horsepower under your feet.

Your own trusty Fiat had broken down while visiting Charles in Monaco over the weekend. He insisted you take the Purosangue for the almost four hour drive back rather than waiting for a rental. You tried to decline at first, anxious about driving such an expensive vehicle. But Charles wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I don’t like the idea of you driving all that way alone in some random rental car,” he argued. “This will be much safer and more comfortable for you, mon amour.”

You finally relented, unable to resist when he turned on the charm. Charles gave you a lengthy tutorial of all the car’s features before sending you off with a lengthy kiss and plans for your next visit.

As you pull into the Politecnico di Milano parking lot, you realize just what a scene you’re about to cause. The other students are used to seeing you in your almost ten-year-old Fiat, not a glittering metallic Ferrari.

Sure enough, jaws drop and whispers follow you as you step out of the driver’s seat. Matteo quickly spots you from across the lot and comes jogging over eagerly.

“No way! Is that ... is that a Purosangue?” He gapes. “What are you doing with that?”

“Funny story actually. My car broke down when I was visiting Charles in Monaco last weekend. So he let me borrow this while mine is in the shop.”

Matteo stares at you blankly. “Visiting Charles ... in Monaco?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Your dedication to this bit is honestly impressive, Y/N. But there’s no way that the Charles Leclerc just gave you his Ferrari to drive back to Milan.”

You sigh but you’re determined not to let Matteo get under your skin this time. “Believe what you want. But I had an amazing weekend with my boyfriend before heading back to reality today.”

You head into class, Matteo trailing behind you, still shaking his head in disbelief. Livia immediately jumps up when she sees you.

“Shut up, is that really a Ferrari outside?” She gasps. You nod nonchalantly and take your seat.

“Y/N here is trying to convince us that her boyfriend let her borrow it over the weekend,” Matteo says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“You do realize those start at €390,000 right?” Livia says. “Why on earth would Charles Leclerc of all people let you drive his brand new ultra luxury SUV around?”

You throw your up hands in indignation. “Maybe because he’s my boyfriend and he wanted to help me out! Why is that so hard for you guys to believe?”

But instead of listening to you, other classmates join the conversation and chime in with their own theories about why you suddenly have a Ferrari.

“Maybe she rented it to play a prank on everyone,” suggests Liam.

“No way,” Eva argues. “Maybe she got a big inheritance? Some distant rich relative died and left their fortune to Y/N?”

You groan internally. But before you can respond, your professor walks in and instructs everyone to take their seats.

Through the lecture, you catch people whispering and pointing discreetly at you. By the time class ends, you just want to go home and video chat with Charles about your frustrating day.

As you pack up your things, Livia comes over. “So have you thought about what you’ll tell people when they see you getting out of that Ferrari for the foreseeable future?” She asks.

You blink at her. “The truth? That Charles loaned it to me while my car is in the shop,” you say slowly.

She pats your shoulder. “Come on Y/N, the joke was funny at first but now it’s just getting sad. No one actually believes that you’re dating Charles Leclerc and driving his cars around. Just tell us where you really got it so we can all move on from this weird fantasy life you’ve constructed.”

You stand up abruptly, shoving your notebook in your bag. “It’s not a fantasy,” you spit sharply. “It’s my real life and I’m sorry you can’t accept that. But I don’t need to convince you or anyone else.”

You storm out of the classroom, blinking back frustrated tears.

Pulling out your phone, you text Charles.

I miss you. My friends still think I’m making this all up. I can’t wait to see you in Spain next race.

Charles texts back immediately.

Not as much as I miss you. Don’t worry about what other people think, we know our love is real.

And you looked so hot driving my car 😉

You smile down at your phone, comforted by his words. You may never get your friends and classmates to believe your relationship, but as long as you and Charles know the truth, that’s all that truly matters.

Sliding back behind the wheel of the shiny Ferrari, you feel your stress melt away. Who cares what anyone thinks? You have an amazing boyfriend who trusts you with his most prized possessions. And someday when you and Charles are ready to share your love with the world, everyone’s jaws will drop in disbelief.

For now, you’ll just enjoy the ride.

***

It’s nearly time for summer break and you’re sitting outside with Matteo, Livia, and some other friends, soaking up the sunshine.

“We should all go backpacking around the Greek islands in August!” Suggests Livia. “We could start in Athens, then ferry to Mykonos, Santorini, and end in Crete. Who’s in?”

Everyone voices their enthusiasm for the idea. Then Matteo turns to you. “How about it, Y/N? Take a break from your ‘boyfriend’ and come adventuring with us common folk.”

You take a deep breath and stir your coffee, debating on how to break the news. “That sounds amazing but I already have plans for the summer.”

“Oh yeah? Going home to see your family?” Matteo asks.

You take a deep breath. “Actually, Charles and I are going on a vacation for a few weeks.”

Your friends erupt into laughter.

“A holiday? With Charles Leclerc?” Livia giggles. “Girl, your fantasies are really taking off lately!”

You frown in annoyance. “I’m serious. Charles chartered a yacht and everything. I wish you could see how excited he is for our first big trip together. He’s been planning it for months.”

Livia pats your hand gently. “Sweetie, we know you’re probably feeling financial pressure with school and all. You don’t have to lie about going off on some glamorous vacation. If you can’t afford to join us in Greece, just say so.”

You stare at her in disbelief. “This isn’t about money. Charles and I have been looking forward to this since the start of the season! I’m sorry that our relationship is still so unbelievable to you.”

Your aggravation must show on your face because Matteo holds up his hands appeasingly. “Look, I’m sure whatever you end up doing this summer will be great. But clearly this whole Charles charade has gone too far. It’s time to come clean.”

You stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. “I don’t need to come clean about anything. My relationship with Charles is real, whether you choose to believe it or not.”

You storm off fuming. Your friends’ outright refusal to even entertain the notion that you could be dating Charles is so patronizing and demeaning. Do they really think so little of you?

That night, you vent to Charles over FaceTime about the conversation.

“I just don’t get why it’s so hard for them to believe me! I know we’re not exactly a super conventional couple but it’s like they think I’m delusional,” you sigh.

Charles gives you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry they’re being like this, mon cœur. But try not to let it upset you too much. We know the truth about our love. That’s what matters.”

You nod, cheered as always by his encouragement. “You’re right. I’m just so excited for our trip! Sailing around the Mediterranean with you all to myself? It’s going to be a dream.”

Charles grins. “Oh I can’t wait either. The yacht has a hot tub on deck under the stars. I want to make sure it’s just as magical as you deserve.”

You spend the rest of the call discussing your vacation itinerary and plans for when your families will join you in Sardinia.

Charles reassures you again not to worry about what others think.

“Soon we’ll share our love with the world. But for now, let’s just focus on us,” he says softly.

By the time you hang up, your frustration has faded. Matteo and Livia may not believe you but in a few short weeks you’ll be cruising the bright blue Mediterranean with the man of your dreams.

The day finally comes for your trip to begin. As Charles helps you aboard the sleek yacht, you forget all about your friends. They don’t know him like you do. And they definitely don’t know how he kisses you goodbye at the airport or the special way his eyes light up when he says “I love you.”

This vacation will be everything you’ve been dreaming of. And you know Charles will do whatever it takes to make it unforgettable.

As the yacht pulls away from the marina, the only thing on your mind is the blissful weeks ahead with your love. Everything else fades blissfully into the background.

***

You walk with the group of engineering students through the halls of Maranello, thrilled to be back at the Ferrari factory. You did your internship here last year but walking around still feels surreal.

As you pass the simulator room, you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N! Hold on a second!”

You turn and see Gianni, one of the simulator engineers you befriended during your internship. He jogs over holding a sleek black ring.

“Charles left this after his session the other day,” he presses the familiar band into your palm. “Can you get it back to him?” Gianni asks.

You grin, turning the ring over in your hands. Charles hates taking off his Oura fitness tracker but has to for simulator runs.

“Of course, I’ll give it back to him when I’m in Monaco.”

You turn back to your friends, expecting this to be the final push they need to believe you.

But Livia just rolls her eyes. “Come on Y/N, he is obviously in on this whole charade. I bet you convinced him to play along!”

The other students nod, chuckling. Your smile disappears.

“What? No, Gianni and I really worked together when I interned here! This isn’t some weird prank,” you insist.

Matteo pats your shoulder condescendingly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to keep pretending with us. We get it, you want people to think you’re dating Charles Leclerc. But it’s getting kind of sad now.”

You clench your fists in frustration as the group moves on. Why are they being so stubborn? You clearly know people here and have a real connection to Charles.

When you pass the aerodynamics lab, your mood lifts a bit. Your favorite team leader, Fabio, is there working on computational fluid dynamics simulations.

“Y/N! So great to see you back here!” He greets you warmly and pulls you into a friendly hug.

You chat with him for a few minutes, explaining about the visit. As you say goodbye, he adds, “Tell Charles I said hi when you see him this weekend!”

But Matteo just scoffs as you walk away. “Let me guess — he’s in on it too?”

You don’t even bother responding this time, too irritated. Why should you have to convince your so-called friends of anything? You don’t owe them proof when they’re clearly set on ignoring it.

As the tour concludes, Livia pulls you aside, her expression serious.

“Look Y/N, we’re a bit worried about you. All these stories ... it just seems unhealthy. We think you should talk to someone,” she says gently.

You gape at her. “Unhealthy? Because I mentioned my boyfriend a few times on a trip to his workplace? You guys are unbelievable.”

Livia frowns. “Come on, it’s more than that and you know it. The jewelry, the car, the traveling ... it’s all an elaborate fantasy life. We just want what’s best for you.”

You feel anger bubbling up inside you. Livia reaches for your arm but you jerk away.

“You want what’s best for me? Then start believing me! I love Charles and he loves me. I don’t need therapy just because you refuse to accept the facts,” you snap.

Livia looks taken aback. You don’t wait for her response, just turn on your heel and stalk away fuming.

You pull out your phone and call Charles, needing to vent. When he picks up, the sound of his voice instantly calms you.

Charles listens patiently as you recount the horrible field trip. “I’m so sorry they’re being like this, ma belle,” he soothes. “But you handled it well. Don’t let them make you question yourself.”

You sigh. “I just wish they could see how happy you make me. I hate that our love seems so unbelievable.”

“It’s their loss for not seeing what we have,” Charles replies. “Soon everyone will realize that I only have eyes for you.”

You chat for a while longer, feeling reassured. Your friends’ doubt used to make you sad but now it mostly just angers you.

You know the truth. This weekend when you fly to Monaco and fall asleep in Charles’ arms, what Matteo and Livia think won’t matter one bit.

The only thing that matters is the love between you and Charles.

And one day, both of you will make sure the whole world knows that it’s as real as it gets.

***

It’s Friday morning and you’re stuck in your Principles of Advanced Aerodynamics lecture, anxiously watching the clock.

The Italian Grand Prix weekend starts today but your professor refused to excuse you from class early. Which means you’re missing out on precious hours with Charles before free practice later today.

You resigned yourself to not seeing him until tonight when the classroom door bursts open.

And there stands Charles, looking unfairly handsome in a Ferrari branded polo and jeans.

“Sorry to interrupt professor,” Charles flashes a charming grin. “But I’m going to need to steal Y/N away for the weekend.”

He shoots you a playful wink and your heart melts.

Your classmates erupt in excited whispers as they realize that the Charles Leclerc is standing in front of them. Your professor’s lips are moving but no discernible sound comes out.

The professor struggles to find words for a moment. “You’re ... you’re Charles Leclerc!” He stammers.

Charles smiles humbly. “Yes sir. And as I’m sure you know, the free practice for the Italian Grand Prix starts today. I’ll need to have my good luck charm there with from the very start.”

He extends his hand to you.

You grab your bag, legs wobbling as you make your way to the front. Charles wraps a supportive arm around your waist.

“You see professor, Y/N is my biggest supporter. My results improve dramatically when she’s present. So surely any Ferrari fan would agree that she must be trackside all weekend?” Charles urges charmingly.

The professor nods mutely before seeming to find his voice again. “Yes, of course! We certainly want the best results for Ferrari here at home. Y/N, you’re excused for the day. If you give me just a moment ...” He rummages through his bag with shaking hands and pulls out a Ferrari phone case.

“Would you mind?” He asks sheepishly.

“Not at all,” Charles smiles, taking the case and scrawling his signature across it with a provided permanent marker.

Your professor looks ready to faint. “Thank you so much. Enjoy the race weekend. Forza Ferrari, sempre!”

Trying not to laugh, you quickly gather up the rest of your things. Your friends watch wide-eyed as Charles takes your hand.

“Ready, mon amour?” He asks.

When you nod, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you passionately in front of the entire class.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You cling to him, dizzy from the kiss. “Not as much as I missed you. I can’t believe you came here just to pick me up.”

Charles caresses your cheek. “I’ll always come for you. Now let’s get going to Monza. I want to show you how much I appreciated your good luck texts before practice.”

He keeps your hand clasped firmly in his as you make your way outside. When you glance back through the windows, your classmates are still staring after you in stunned disbelief.

Once you’re in the familiar 488 Pista, you finally let out the laugh you’ve been suppressing. “Did you see the looks on everyone’s faces? I thought Professor Mancini was actually going to faint.”

Charles grins. “I know dramatic gestures aren’t usually my style but I wanted them to see once and for all that you’re mine.”

He lifts your intertwined hands to his lips. “No more doubting our love after today. And I meant what I said — you’re my good luck charm, Y/N. Having you here this weekend means everything.”

You smile up at him softly. “I’m just happy I can be here to support you.”

He kisses you deeply, still parked outside of the Politecnico, not caring who sees. And you know without a doubt that this amazing man and your once-in-a-lifetime romance are completely real.

The rest of the day flies by in a blur of excitement. In between practice sessions, Charles takes any chance he can to steal moments alone with you in his driver’s room.

His tender kisses and whispered reminders of his love send your heart racing faster than an F1 car.

***

It’s race day in Monza and you’re walking through the paddock hand-in-hand with Charles. His physio and press officer trail behind you both as Charles waves to the cheering Tifosi in the stands.

Suddenly, you hear voices calling your name.

You look over to see Matteo and Livia leaning over the fence, trying to get your attention.

“Y/N! We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you!” Livia shouts.

“Please come talk to us!” Yells Matteo. “We feel awful about everything!”

You stop short, conflicting emotions swirling through you. Charles senses your hesitation and squeezes your hand supportively.

“What do you want to do, mon cœur?” He asks. “I can try to get them paddock passes last minute if you want to talk.”

You bite your lip. Part of you wants them to witness first-hand the depth of your relationship with Charles. To show them just how wrong they were to mock and belittle your love.

But another part of you is still hurt by their stubborn refusal to believe you all this time. Do they really deserve VIP paddock access after the way they treated you?

“I don’t know, Charles ... they were so patronizing about our relationship for so long. I’m not sure they deserve the reward of paddock access after demeaning my feelings,” you reply.

Charles nods thoughtfully. “I understand. It’s completely up to you, of course. But it could be nice for them to see up close just how real our love is. Watching us together will help it finally sink in.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips. Charles does make an appealing case ...

“Alright, I can’t say no to that adorable face,” you laugh and kiss his cheek. “But maybe keep them waiting a bit first as payback!”

Charles grins mischievously. “I think that can be arranged.” He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, dipping you backwards dramatically.

The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles, a wild and beautiful sea of Rosso Corsa.

When you come up for air, you see your friends watching open-mouthed from the stands. Charles winks at them over your shoulder before leading you away, his arm curled firmly around your waist.

Several hours later, Matteo and Livia finally receive their paddock passes. They rush over to you right away, profusely apologizing again.

“Seeing you and Charles together in class was unbelievable, but this ...” Matteo trails off, darting around at the bustling paddock with wide eyes. “You really are dating an F1 driver!”

You exchange an amused look with Charles. “Yes, that is what I’ve been trying to tell you for many months now,” you laugh.

Livia hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. But after today, we’ll never question your relationship again.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I hope after witnessing our love up close, you will see there is nothing Y/N wouldn’t do for me, just as I would do the same for her.” He gazes down at you tenderly and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You and Charles both laugh as your friends turn red. “We’re really happy for you two,” mumbles Matteo. “Hopefully we can all start over now.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Of course! Y/N’s happiness is what matters most to me and I know how important her friends are to her.”

You feel yourself falling even more in love with this man and his endless patience and compassion.

The race keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. When Charles takes the top step on the podium, you and your friends scream loudly enough to be heard in Milan.

That night at the celebration, Charles gives a sweet toast about how your love inspires him.

Matteo and Livia watch with tears in their eyes.

“Wow, when you said your boyfriend was romantic, you really meant it,” Livia whispers.

“I told you, Charles is one-of-a-kind. I’m so lucky to be his and to be loved by him.”

Charles comes over and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling your hair. “I’m the lucky one, mon ange.”

He stops and takes both of your hands, gazing into your eyes intently. “I never want you to doubt what we have, Y/N. You are everything to me. My whole world.”

Matteo shakes his head in wonder as he takes in the pure love clearly shining in both of your eyes. “We’re so sorry we ever doubted that what you have is real. Seeing you together, it’s obvious your love is straight out of a fairytale.”

You grin up at Charles, your heart overflowing. With his kisses still lingering on your lips and surrounded by friends who finally believe, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Now everyone can see your love just as clearly as the two of you always have.

***

Today is the day you’ve been working towards for years — your graduation from the Politecnico di Milano with your Laurea Magistrale in Aeronautical Engineering.

The auditorium is packed with proud families as you line up with your classmates, dressed in formal robes and caps. Charles insisted on coming, despite it being right before the start of a triple header. And having him here means the world to you.

When your name is called, you grin widely as Charles’ cheers rise above the polite applause of the audience. He gives you a standing ovation, not caring that he is blocking everyone’s view.

His pride and support brings happy tears to your eyes. You blow him a discreet kiss and see him pretend to catch it, pressing his hand to his heart.

After the ceremony ends, you rush straight into Charles’ arms. He swings you around then kisses you deeply. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour! All of your hard work has paid off.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed with emotions. “Having you here today, supporting me every step ... it’s the best gift I could ask for.”

Charles strokes your hair tenderly. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. But I do have one more surprise ...”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope with the unmistakable Ferrari seal.

Handing it to you, Charles bounces excitedly on his toes. “Go on, open it!”

With shaking hands, you open the letter and read the words offering you a position as a Junior Aerodynamics Engineer with Scuderia Ferrari.

“Charles, what ... how ...” you stammer in shock.

He smiles widely. “Enrico Cardile was very impressed with the work you did during your internship as well as your thesis.”

You continue staring at the letter. “But I don’t want special treatment just because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn a position at Ferrari on my own merits,” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your hands. “Mon ange, you know I would never influence the team’s decisions. They want you because of your skills, not our relationship. I only asked if I could deliver the news as a graduation gift when I found out.”

You bite your lip. “It’s just ... I don’t want anyone thinking that I didn’t earn this.”

“Listen to me,” Charles quickly gets serious. “You are the most talented, driven, and intelligent person I know. You’ve worked relentlessly for this and Ferrari recognizes that. Please don’t doubt for one second that you deserve this.”

His sincere words dissolve your concerns. He’s right — you interned successfully with the team already. You can do this.

You throw your arms around him again. “Then I accept the offer! I’m going to be a Formula 1 aerodynamicist!”

“You will be incredible, Y/N. I can’t wait to see you thriving there. You’re going to change the world with that beautiful mind of yours.”

You cling to him, overwhelmed with emotions. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your love and support. You gave me the strength to keep pursuing my dreams.”

Charles tips your forehead to his, eyes shining. “And you gave me the gift of true love. My life is so much richer with you in it.”

He kisses you until you’re both smiling too widely to continue. Taking his hand, you turn to look out at the gathered families, classmates, and professors mingling around.

Just months ago, no one believed your relationship with Charles was real. But here you stand, ready to take on the world together.

Your storybook romance has grown into an unshakable partnership.

As Charles squeezes your hand, you know that the next chapter of your lives will be even better. You can’t wait to build your future with this amazing man — both on and off the track.

***

10 years later

You take a deep breath as you walk into the familiar lecture hall at the Politecnico di Milano. Looking out at the eager young students, you remember sitting in their place not so long ago. Back when you were just starting your engineering studies, never dreaming you would one day return as a guest lecturer.

Charles insisted on coming with you today and you scan the room until you spot him sitting inconspicuously in the back row, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. He gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

“Good morning, everyone. For those who don’t know me, I am Y/N Leclerc — Head of Aero Development at Scuderia Ferrari and former student right here at Polimi.”

As you start your lecture on the aerodynamic theory behind Ferrari’s latest championship-winning car, you easily slip back into the familiar rhythms of university life.

Discussing complex simulations and wind tunnel testing with these eager minds reminds you of the days you were in their shoes.

You can hardly believe it’s been 10 years since you sat in this very room, never imagining the incredible journey ahead.

After joining Ferrari, you and Charles found ways to balance your personal and professional lives through compassion and communication.

Winning your first World Championship together was a euphoric blur of champagne and ecstatic team celebrations. Being the first female Director of Aerodynamics in Formula 1 was daunting but Charles never stopped believing in you.

When he got down on one knee after winning in Monza and asked you to be his wife, it was one of the happiest moments of your life. Planning a wedding while chasing championships was no easy feat but your passion for racing and each other kept you going.

Now, five championships later, you’ve settled into a blissful rhythm as partners both on and off the track. There were tough times and painful losses but coming home to each other’s arms helped erase the remnants of any bad day.

As you wrap up the lecture and open the floor to questions, a female student raises her hand. “As a woman working in F1, what’s the best advice you can give aspiring engineers like me?”

You smile, thinking back on your own self-doubts starting out. “Don’t be afraid to take up space and make your voice heard,” you tell her. “Formula 1 needs more brilliant women like you. If you love the science and the cars, pursue this career fiercely no matter what anyone says.”

The student thanks you excitedly and you make a mental note to talk to Charles about establishing an engineering scholarship for female students.

After the lecture finishes, Charles comes up to greet you with a tender kiss. “You were incredible up there. I’m so proud to call you my wife.”

You kiss him back, still just as dizzyingly in love as that first date all those years ago. “I couldn’t have done it without my biggest cheerleader here supporting me.”

As you walk hand-in-hand back to the car, you think about how far you’ve come together.

A storybook romance, successful careers, and most importantly, an unbreakable partnership built on love and trust.

When Charles said your love would overcome any doubt, you never imagined how right he would be.

But now, as the Italian sunlight glints off your matching wedding bands, you know the best is still yet to come.

3K notes · View notes

winterarmyy · 1 year

Text

Behind The Facades | Part II

An unrequited pining over a certain super solider.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 3.3k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. pent up anger. unspoken jealousy. conflicted feelings.

P/S: i heard you. i got you. since lots of you enjoyed the supposedly oneshot, so i decided to do a continuation for this couple. Hope you enjoy~

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Weeks gone by, months flown through and the team was already accustomed Bucky's girlfriend wandering around the tower. Though they thought she would move-in eventually, knowing that Tony allowed them to do so, but she hadn't done it yet.

While Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was constantly walking on thin ice. Being tug in between holding herself together and breaking down.

What's worst about this was, deep down, Y/N wanted to hate her.

Gail Richards.

Bucky's girl.

A gorgeous red-head, sultry champagne-colored eyes, a deep dimple on her right cheek, sculptured body of goddess and heart of gold.

Y/N got to admit that she hated how perfect Gail was for Bucky. She had such a kind soul; it's impossible not to fall for her. In hindsight, she was exactly what Bucky needed in his life.

What he deserve.

And in the end, Gail managed to steal not just Bucky's heart, but also the entire team's.

Including Y/N herself.

The friendship between Gail and Y/N was true and genuine; even if it hurts her everytime when she was forced to see Gail canoodling with the man she had fallen madly in love with.

"So where's the date? Did he tell you or is it a surprise kind of thing?" Gail's questions snapped Y/N from her deep internal thoughts.

Her gaze fell into her own reflection in the mirror; she was fitted with a simple black satin dress, with a quite scandalous slit on one side on her thigh. Standing behind her, was Gail, helping her out with the pearl necklace she was graciously lending it to Y/N.

"I don't remember the name but it's that new michelin star restaurant." Y/N replied as she straighten her dress, suddenly feeling conscious of how tight the dress was hugging her body.

"Oh! I know that fancy new restaurant. It opened last week, right? Bucky and I haven't had the chance to go yet. I heard it's pretty hard to get reservation. I must say, I'm impressed."

While Gail seemed to approve of Y/N's date, she didn't notice the way Y/N's body froze as she mentioned Bucky's name.

Her fingers were itching to dug it's nails somewhere, anywhere; as she try to keep her composure as neutral as possible, "Yeah, I'll definitely give you my review before you guys go on a date there. Who knows if its not up to the standards, right?"

Oh, how desperate she was on wanting to hide her pain away.

"That's great, y/n! But, I'd rather you actually enjoy the date rather than secretly being an undercover food critique. Forget about everything and have fun for once! Who knows this one is a keeper, huh?" Gail rubbed her hands to side of Y/N's arms; her eyes brighten as she encouraged her.

Ignorance is truly a bliss; though it's not that she knows that Y/N had been in love with Bucky this whole time.

On the other hand, Bucky was starting to feel the effects of what Gail had warned him before. He doesn't want to feel like she doesn't love him because she does.

At least she tries to.

Persuing Gail was not necessarily easy; not because he was lacking or she played hard to get. But because of how honest she was; how self aware she was.

"Being with me is a hell of a challenge, Bucky. My emotions are unpredictable. Today, I will love you ever so truly; I will drown you with all the kisses and cuddles you could ever imagine but the next day you might not being able to talk to me or even see me."

"I'll go M.I.A and isolate myself from the world at any time, with no warning. I shut down without any reason."

"I might not be there for you when you needed me the most. I might abandon you when all you wanted for me to stay."

"Worst part about it is I won't feel sorry for what I did because I can barely feel anything during those time."

But he insisted to try.

Maybe it was the sudden surge of passion when he met her but he was determined that they could make it work.

So, try they did.

As his relationship with Gail progresses, his and y/n's started to astray. He noticed y/n has been keeping her distance with him since he got together with Gail.

She had been cooped up in her room more often. There was a gradual changes in their schedule. Lesser trips to the corndog stall that y/n was obsessed with, canceled trips on visiting Alpine, the cute little kitten they have been eyeing at the adoption center, and almost none of the late night coffee trips.

He missed her.

From her annoying laugh to her odd habit of scratching things in her sleep.

Her smile, her voice, her presence.

He missed all of it.

He missed her.

Which was why Bucky thought it was better to talk it out with her. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding that needed to be clear out.

It took just single knock before Bucky intrude himself into Y/N's room, "Hey, y/n I don't want to disturb you but can we..." Bucky's sentence did not managed to end with a period, thus his words was instead left hanging just like his mouth.

"Oh, wow."

For a moment there, Bucky literally forgot how to breath. It was as if the reality around him was deteriorating, leaving just the perfect view of Y/N. For a split second, his gaze seemed to dilated into a trance, slowly getting bewitched by the beauty before him.

Bucky was so captivated by how, almost sinfully, beautiful Y/N looked in that dress, he didn't notice his own girlfriend was standing right next to her.

Gail carefully slide her way towards Bucky as she prompted, "So... what do you think, Buck? Gorgeous isn't she?" A dreamy sigh escaped from Gail's lips as she admire the woman in front of her.

"Yes. Yes, she is."

Those were the words Bucky wanted to say but his mouth wasn't listening to his heart, rather it followed his head, "I didn't know you were coming over, honey." Bucky arms reached towards Gail as he scooped her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

It was subtle but if they paid enough attention, they could see how Y/N's gaze quickly shifted downwards to her feet. Her teeth sunk between the insides of her left cheek as an effort to distract herself from the thunderstorm within her chest. A little bit more force on her teeth would've tore her up and left her bleeding from the inside.

How much longer she must be in this torment? How much suffering her heart needs to endure until it adapt to the pain? She's tired of the ache in her chest but at the same time she can't help it when her heart yearn for a love that's never going to be hers.

"Well? Is she not goddamn beautiful?" Gail playfully slapped Bucky's arm, demanding her question to be answered.

"I mean..." Bucky stuttered to find words. Especially when those round doe eyes of Y/N's spark with anticipation.

All those milliseconds of time Bucky had to think of an appropriate, truthful answer but somehow he only come up with, "...i guess, you could do better."

Idiot.

Straight up dumb.

Bucky immediately regret his words when the gleam in Y/N's eyes suddenly faded; turning into something cold and stoic.

Gail huffed in denial, before taking Y/N's side, "Then you sir, need to check your eyes because she's absolutely stunning". Y/N gave a small smile as Gail pulled her for a side hug.

"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Bucky wanted change the topic before he said something stupid again.

There was a noticeable pause on Y/N's side as he asked, as if she was unwilling to tell him. However, the reluctantcy only arouses his curiosity.

Y/N turned around and faced the mirror. As she fixed the necklace near her collarbone, she made an eye contact with Bucky through his reflection and answered, "I have a date."

Something shifted in the air; as if it was getting heavier, sturdier.

"Who's the guy?" Bucky was clearly not amused with the idea. It barely filtered through his stern tone.

"Daniel. One of the SHIELD agent I worked with before." Y/N noticed how his expression morphed into a frown.

"Why is he making that face? "

Bucky seethed, "That douchebag? Really y/n?" There's a hint of disappointment in his voice; like how a father would scold his daughter of doing something stupid.

And that ticked her off.

She's a grown-ass woman; she can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants. None of it was Bucky's concern.

"What do you mean?" Annoyance flowed through her tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he recognized that name.

Daniel.

That scumbag whose always staring at her. And not in a cute, crush-like way. There's nothing innocent about the way he stare at Y/N's ass and boobs, or always finding excuses to touch her.

However, Y/N has been oblivious to it since Bucky had always been with her.

Since when did that douche got close to Y/N? How did he managed to get Y/N agree to go to a fucking date with him? More importantly, how did Bucky not know all of this?

There was this uncontrollable, unexplainable rage within Bucky that he was unable to contain; like a venomous poison it seeped through his head, "Are you that needy to even consider going out with such scum? Come on, y/n. You're being naive, it's ridiculous." Bucky scoffed as his tone laced with scorn and mockery.

Gail gasped in complete shock, "What is wrong with you, Bucky? That's not--"

"That's not fair. How can you have the luxury to fall in love and lived happily ever after while I have to continue to break and break, again and again?"

"Ridiculous? Am I a fucking joke to you, Bucky?!" Y/N could hold back her own anger as she turned towards him. His face remained the way that it is; red and furious and he was not willing to put his ego down either.

"You know what?" Y/N swerved towards the bed, "I am going to go this date with Daniel, whether you like or not..." She took her purse on the edge of the mattress, "...and I am going to enjoy every second of it!"

"Thanks, Gail. I really appreciate your help today." Y/N smiled as she briefly took Gail's hands into hers. Blinking in confusion, Gail replied, "Y-yeah.. sure--" though her speech was cut short when Y/N interrupted.

"And you!" Y/N shot a glare towards Bucky before marching towards him, "You can go fuck yourself." She clashed her shoulders into Bucky's before walking out her own room.

Bucky gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched in pure vexation as his frown grew deeper.

Looking at her very angry looking boyfriend, Gail let out a tired sigh, "Why would you say such thing to her, Bucky?

Why did he say those things?

He could explain it much better way, knowing that he had plausible reason to why he thinks she should not go to this date.

But, why did he not do that?

Why did he lash out and spat those hurtful things to her?

Even Bucky himself was not sure why.

After that Bucky spent the rest of the night at the gym, and this was the third punching bag that he had completely destroyed. He could see his girlfriend coming in from the corner of his eyes, with an emergency kit in her hand.

She sat at a nearby bench before, "Bucky sweetheart, come here." Gail softly asked him sit with her.

Despite the grunts and gruffs that slipped from his lips, he still obeyed her; though partially was because she had been sternly staring at him.

Gail gently remove his boxing glove of his right hand, then lo and behold his knuckles was crushed and bloodied.

"The wrappings is there for a reason, you know?" She knew he would this; especially when he is guided by rage. Bucky remained silent, knowing that if he did not control his anger first; then he would probably do the same thing he did to Y/N again.

There was a comfortable silence as Gail was tending his wounds. Bucky looked down at her, focusing on cleaning the wounds. She was always careful and tender while handling Bucky; as if she was taking care of a child.

"You love her, don't you?" Gail calmly asked as she started to wrap Bucky's hand.

The question caught him by surprise, "What do you mean?"

She chuckled softly, "y/n. You love her. Am I right?" she reclarify.

It didn't need a genius to figure out how Bucky truly feels about Y/N. Even if he himself if not aware of his own feelings.

But she can see right through him.

She noticed how attentive was Bucky towards y/n. How he looked at her; like she's his whole world. How every single thing he does somehow relates back to Y/N; and he cannot go by a day without mentioning her name in their any conversation. How peaceful looked when y/n is anywhere near him.

She noticed every single one of those detail.

"Of couse, I do. It's y/n we're talking about here." Bucky replied as-matter-of-factly. Though there was some truth in his answer but it was not all.

Gail shook her head lightly as she holds Bucky's wounded hand in hers, "No, Bucky. You love her." Her brows crunched into a pleading curve as her gaze turned gentle.

Bucky frowned in confusion; he looked down at his hand where her thumb caressing his knuckles and he thought back all the moments he spent with y/n.

From the very first day he met her, on those nights she stayed with him, through thick and thin, her eyes on his, her smile on his cheek, her laugh in his arms, her voice in his ears, her skin on left arm, everything flashed through him so fast until a single moment when he realizes.

"I love her."

Gail recognized the glint his eyes, "And she loves you too, Buck." She coaxed.

The frown on his face turned into a shock as she spoke. Even if Y/N does love him, what does that mean?

"What are you saying?"

"Go." Her voice were somehow calmer than she was supposed to speak in such a dire situation.

Bucky knew what she meant; he knew what those eyes were telling him, "Gail, you--"

She cut him before he could say anything, "We did agree to see where will this take us..." her smiled was somehow bitter-sweet, "And I guess this is our end of the line."

A hit of pain struck Bucky's heart, "You don't have to do this." His left hand raised to tenderly cupped her cheeks; it was warm. Unlike his winter cold hand, she was warm. Like the soft heat from the morning sun.

She placed her hand on top of his as she craved a reassuring smile, "I want to."

And that broke Bucky's heart. And it broke for her.

He loved Gail.

All the feelings he felt for her was real. As real as the feelings he felt for Y/N. The only difference was he didn't realized he was in love with Y/N, but he did with Gail.

"And to be honest, I'm not sure I can keep up with the emotional commitments, I'm always M.I.A and lost in my own head..."

As Gail starts to ramble, Bucky wasn't hearing any of it. His eyes stings and his vision blurred.

There was only so much any man can handle.

There was joy in realizing his was in love with Y/N but there was also agony in knowing he had to break Gail's heart. Unable to hold back his emotions anymore, his tears finally broke out.

She was prepared not to cry today but seeing Bucky like this; who wouldn't tear up, right?

"Hey hey hey, I'll be okay. We'll be okay." She placed her palm on Bucky's cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumb as she lead his gaze to her own.

"Bucky, listen to me. I don't want you feeling like you're alone." she cooed, her eyes had gotten glassy as tears filled within them. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer you, do you understand?" Bucky can simply nod as he feels like his voice will betray him.

"Good." Gail closed her eyes and leaned into a kiss. A soft innocent kiss on his forehead, as their tears fall on each other's bare skin, "Now, go get your girl."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback behind! And what do you think of Gail? I thought it'd be nice to have a different characteristics for her instead of the cliche 'bitchy and rude' girlfriend.

There's no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous part. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350

#winterarmyyfics #behind the facades au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #bucky angst

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lemoncrushh · 3 months

Text

Leather and Lace

Summary: The night Harry sang with Stevie at the Troubadour

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1440

A/N: This is a special little one shot written after that night in 2017. For those who don't know me, I've been a massive Stevie Nicks fan for many many years. Though I was not there at the Troubadour, I cried tears of joy when I found out about it. Then I wrote this. It's written in first person because it is so personal to me.

I'd been trying to hold it together for the last twenty minutes. The show was over, the crowd for the most part was dispersing and leaving the Troubadour, with a few clusters of fans here and there chatting. The music was still ringing in my ears, the feedback from the guitar now long gone yet still managing to vibrate and shake throughout my body. I stood frozen in my spot on the balcony where I'd sat next to James to watch Harry. The stage was now empty, the spotlights now making it seem more like a distant memory, or a time capsule from a completely different era - one that I'd seen in old magazines from decades ago.

I couldn't believe what I'd just witnessed. Harry had just sung with Stevie Nicks. Stevie fucking Nicks! To say I was a fan of hers would be an understatement. Stevie was my idol. My queen. The reason I'd wanted to be a musician since I was twelve.

I hadn't known she would be there. Harry hadn't told me. Whether it was because he wanted it to be a surprise, or because he was afraid I would freak out and be nervous for him, therefore making him all the more nervous, I didn't know. But maybe it was a little of both.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my back. I turned to see James who gave me a kind smile and patted my shoulder. He whispered in my ear that he was leaving and he would ring Harry later. I nodded and gave him a quick hug and said goodnight. Then I turned my gaze back to the stage below.

He'd done it. This was it. I couldn't even imagine it getting any better. He could sell out arenas and stadiums all over the world, win all the Grammys and stay at number one on Billboard for over a year and it still wouldn't compare to the emotions I'd felt watching him sing with Stevie.

I felt a tear start to trickle down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away when I heard my name behind me.

"There you are," said Glenne. "Harry's looking for you."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "He is?"

"Yeah, he wants you backstage."

Harry never asked for me to come backstage or to the dressing room, neither before or after a show. I would give him the space he needed to clear his head and get in the zone. Even when he was on Saturday Night Live, I'd just taken a seat like any other audience member and waited until he'd come out to find me, his face all flushed, his bag slung over his shoulder. For him to be asking for me now...after what had just happened...that meant something.

"Okay..." I took a deep breath and swallowed hard.

I descended the staircase slowly, my knees shaking. Glenne hadn't bothered to follow me, which only confirmed that Harry had requested me and me only.

Jeff stood just inside the dressing room door when I entered. He nodded at me silently before walking around me and leaving me alone with Harry. He sat on a small leather loveseat that had seen better days and probably had more stories to tell than Keith Richards. When he saw me, he beamed. I immediately ran to him when he rose, throwing my arms around his middle. It didn't matter that he was sweaty. It didn't matter that the door behind me was wide open. All that mattered was that I couldn't be more proud of him than I was in that moment.

We rocked back and forth for a few minutes until I felt him kiss the top of my head and whisper.

"Sorry I didn't tell you. Kinda wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, you definitely achieved that."

Harry chuckled, his chest shaking against my cheek that pressed to it. "So, what'd you think?"

I licked my lips, trying to gather my thoughts. "I thought it was the most beautiful moment I've ever gotten to see and hear in my life."

"Yeah?"

I lifted my head to look at him. "Of course. My two favorite people. Singing together. What could be better than that?"

Harry smiled wider as he brushed a strand of hair away from my eyes. His eyes danced with glee, like a giddy child who'd just gone to Disneyland.

"How did it feel to you?" I asked him. "To be up there with her, singing her songs, her singing yours? That had to feel incredible."

For the first time since I'd entered the room, Harry's smile faltered a bit and he pressed his lips together.

"To be honest," he replied, "I was having a hard time keeping it together."

I nodded. "I know. I noticed. But I think that made it ever better. I loved seeing you getting choked up. Because I was getting choked up too."

Harry suddenly let go of me and backed away, digging his palms into his eyes. He sat on the couch again, his shoulders trembling as he released his emotions he'd no doubt been holding in up to that point. I silently sat beside him, my hand gently laid on his thigh, unmoving and waiting until he was ready for more contact. I watched him cry, the overwhelmingness finally hitting him. Finally with a shaky breath, he took hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. He tried to catch the tears before they fell unsuccessfully as I rubbed his back with my other hand.

"That was...pretty intense, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah..." he breathed, wiping his eye with the back of his hand.

"She's amazing."

"A legend," Harry added. "I can't believe...I can't believe that actually happened. It's like...a dream."

I smiled. "She seemed to really like you, too. She must think you're something special to do that with you. And she'd be right."

Harry turned to me then, giving me a small grin.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," I murmured, leaning my cheek against his shoulder. "I just...I just don't even have words for how I feel right now. You continue to blow my mind.

He squeezed my hand again before threading his fingers through and bringing it to his lips.

"Now, I'm gonna want a studio recording of Leather and Lace," I quipped.

Harry chuckled, and I was happy I'd lightened the mood.

"You might just have to settle for a live version on youtube, I'm afraid."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. Sometimes live recordings are better anyway. And there's no way you could really recapture that magic in a studio version."

"Harry, darling, I just wanted to say goodbye and wish you the best of luck."

I knew the voice before I even turned my head. There she stood in the doorway, my queen in all her five feet and one inch, minus the platform boots. My eyes widened and I'm pretty sure I gasped as Harry rose from the sofa again, my hand still in his.

"Thank you so much, Stevie," he choked, his voice raspier than usual.

The next few moments were a blur which seemed to happen in fast forward and slow motion simultaneously. Harry introduced me to Stevie, I shook her soft, tiny, hand with its long painted nails, and I think I might have told her I loved her, though I don't remember exactly. I do remember, however, that she hugged me and she smelled intoxicatingly beautiful, like a cross between jasmine, honeysuckle and Nag Champa incense. I also might've held on a little longer than I should have until she pulled away and smiled, then moving to hug Harry. If I had thought about it, I would have taken a photo, but the memory burned in my brain was enough.

I watched her walk away, giving one last wave, then I stared at her boots as she walked down the hall and hugged Sarah and Clare.

"I wonder which of us is the most starstruck," I heard behind me.

I smiled, turning around.

"Definitely you," I commented. "You got to sing with her. That's like...the ultimate."

"I dunno," he smirked. "You should see your face right now."

I slapped my hand to my mouth. "Oh my God!" I muffled my scream. "I just met Stevie Nicks!"

Harry smiled wider, holding out his arm to gesture for me.

"C'mere, love," he said.

I crashed into his chest again, wrapping my arms around him. Just like before, we rocked back and forth. Only this time, I was the one weeping.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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sunshyni · 7 months

Text

big boy energy

Jisung × Fem!reader

notes: this is my first text in English, so I'm feeling nervous 😬 English is not my native language, so forgive me for any errors or mistakes like that!! And that's it!! I hope you enjoy it!!

w.c: 0,7k

tw: none

I don't even know if this is good. I write more to see how my English vocabulary is doing, but anyway!!

Good read, sweeties!! ❤️

Your older brother's getting married in a few months, and dance lessons were scheduled for the couple and the godparents to avoid any embarrassment on the big day. Right now, you have no clue who your dance partner will be because your brother keeps saying, “Her right dance partner will show up any minute”.

You're chilling in a chair, adjusting your high heels for dancing, when you hear a noise from the salon door, and your eyes immediately snap in that direction.

— Hey guys, am I late? Sorry, my flight was delayed — Says the guy standing by the door. Jisung looks taller and stronger than the last time you saw him, but he still has that same sparkle in his eyes from when you were kids. Jisung, just two years older than you, used to mess with your braids all the time.

It was tough when he left town to study and work in Korea, his country of origin. You couldn't help but miss him, even though it seemed like he didn't give a damn about leaving you behind.

You kinda resented him for that because you've always had a thing for him, but he either didn't notice or didn't feel the same. I mean, you used to like him, but now that you see him another time, your heart can't help but race.

— Jisungie! You're not tired, are you? — Your brother asks. Jisung, dressed all black, looks even hotter than usual — I've got a mission for you.

— I'm good, let's do it — Jisung says, meeting your gaze with a nostalgic sweetness. You finally stand up, and thankfully, you don't trip and fall flat on your face.

— You'll be dancing with my sister, okay? — Your brother practically pushes Jisung in your direction. Jisung smiles at you, and all you can do is cross your arms and scowl.

— I hate you both — You mutter to Jisung and your brother as he heads back to his fiancée, sticking his tongue out at you in a teasing way. The dance teacher starts the class, and you even have the chance to complain to Jisung. He holds you tighter, causing you some agitation, but all you can focus on is trying to breathe normally while his face is so close to yours.

— Did you miss me, shawty? — He asks, leading the dance with skill, not like the same boy from years ago who learned to salsa from “Shall We Dance?” while you were sighing over the charmer Richard Gere.

— I'm not giving you the answer you want, Andy Park — You say, and Jisung chuckles softly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, but you brush them off, wrapping your arms around his neck like they were made to be there.

— I prefer when you call me Jisungie, babe.

— I preferred it when you didn't leave me alone, babe — You retort, stepping on his feet. Jisung lets out a low groan but still holds you close, dancing like there's no one else in the room.

— I'm sorry for letting you down all this time. I'm an asshole, it's true — Jisung admits, acknowledging all the times you two didn't talk when you really wanted to, even if it was just to argue, something you did a lot as kids — Can we make peace, pretty please? Go back to the way things used to be?

You hesitate for a moment before letting a small smile slip.

— Like the old times, huh?

— But this time, I really wanna kiss you — Jisung whispers in your ear, and your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest. You feel his cheek against yours, and if you don't answer him soon, you might just pass out.

— Andy...

— Keep calling me like that, and I'll kiss you right here, not giving a fuck about your brother and my best friend — He says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, leaving you dizzy with his scent filling the room, making it hard to breathe. You muster up the courage to speak, looking into his eyes.

— When did you get this big boy energy?

— I don't know, but you better enjoy it, cutie.

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redroomreflections · 4 months

Text

Not Easily Broken Chapter 3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

3/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 6k (whew!)

TW: Mention of miscarriage

Natasha wasn’t your first kiss but she’s the first kiss that mattered. You can remember that moment like it was yesterday. The first time she placed her lips on yours. Eleven years ago if you remember it correctly. You had recently been appointed the Creative Director at Stark Industries. Besides Pepper Potts, you were Tony's, right-hand man. You were the woman in charge of overseeing every single creative process dealing with the multibillion-dollar company. You spent more time traveling and in the office than you liked but it came with its perks. With a great salary and good benefits package you wouldn’t complain at all even if most of your time was spent rolling your eyes at the ideas Tony would come up with.

You would see Natasha briefly during your time at the tower. She would be in the room one second and gone the next. It was only after getting to know her you realized that Natasha purposely distanced herself from everyone and everything. There were only three women in the world who could scare Tony Stark. Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff, and you. You’d giggle at every snide remark Tony would make only after Natasha had left the room. You would agree with her on many of the times she put him in his place. The more you saw Natasha the more you wanted to know the woman behind the moniker Black Widow. Without knowing why you made it a mission to see more of her. So, you dropped in on Tony more. You’d ask for Natasha’s input, always remembering to include her. She tried to hide the look of surprise when you would ask her what she thought. As if her expertise was only in the field of battle.

You made her laugh on every occasion. Your thoughts were consumed by the redheaded woman with the gorgeous smile.

As Tony’s employee, you were invited to his parties. Boy, did he throw a lot of them. Many of them you would skip. No one would miss you there. At least not that you noticed. It wasn’t until the night of Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that things changed for you.

You were dressed in a sparkly black number. The dress was short and backless. It hugged your curves in all of the right places and you looked damn good. You felt sexy and ready for the new year to come. There were a few men and women eyeing you all night. Some had even dared to approach you. You didn’t care about their advances. None of them interested you when the one you truly wanted was in the very same room.

Natasha commanded the room with her presence. Every click of her heels and sway of her hips left all eyes on her. She charmed the room. She chatted, made jokes, and even kissed Rhodey on the cheek under the mistletoe leftover from Christmas. Natasha was breathtaking and yet you could tell she wasn’t having a good time. She seemed stiff and on guard. There was a certain air about her that you weren’t sure if other people picked up on. Natasha was a spy after all so she always had to be alert. You could see the way she tensed when Richard Matthews, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, placed his hand on her forearm as he flirted with her. Her eyes quickly cut to his hand before they flew back up to his face. She seemed to be analyzing his flirting but enjoying herself. She flirted back with him just as hard and for a moment you wondered if she would sleep with him that night. Natasha wasn’t yours. You were barely friends and yet the thought of her and that man being together made you sick. You felt the nausea roll over you and you excused yourself to the kitchen. Only a few of the catering staff remained as they packed up for the night. A cleaning crew would come to clean in the morning.

You waited for them to exit the kitchen before clutching the counter. You leaned your weight against it taking deep breaths as you tried to reel yourself in. You were in love with Natasha. You were in love with the Black Widow. A startling truth that had sent you spiraling. Before you could think any further on what this meant the sound of her honey-smooth voice caressed every inch of your body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” You could picture the smirk on her face as she spoke. You took another deep breath before turning to Natasha. She glanced behind her as the swinging door stood still again. Her eyes never left yours as her brows knit in concern. “Y/n, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You frowned. “I just..” Natasha waited expectantly for you to say something. She waited for you to tell her what was on your mind. You could come up with a lie and say you had too much to drink but nothing came out of your mouth. Before you could stop yourself you closed the distance between the two of you to hold Natasha’s face between your hands. You searched her eyes for any resistance, you waited for her to say no, but nothing came. Her breath caught in her chest as she waited for you to kiss her.

“Do it.” She dared you. You pounced with a fierce press of your lips to her. Your senses were overwhelmed with Natasha. She smelled delicious, tasted divine, and the feel of her pressed against you was heavenly. You were pretty sure you had died and gone to heaven as you lowered your hands to wrap around her waist. You pulled Natasha closer so that you were pressed chest to chest. The stilettos she was wearing worked to her advantage as she wrapped her arms around your neck. The sounds of the party fell on deaf ears as your tongue explore her mouth. Only when a moan left her lips did you pull back. Your eyes widened and you moved with an apology at the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t,” Natasha spoke softly. She tilted her head to kiss you again. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” She whispered.

“Really?” You asked.

“Since the day I met you.” She shrugged.

“Well, why didn’t you say anything? Or do anything?” You asked incredulously.

“I dropped hints but you’re a tough nut to crack.” Natasha reminded you. Suddenly you were pulled back to all of the times Natasha dropped by your office. She was always around whenever you had a meeting with Tony. She even texted you to ask for your coffee order a few times. Now that you think about it, it didn’t seem like she did any of the stuff she did for you for anyone else.

“Oh.” It dawned on you. Natasha’s way of flirting was different from the Black Widow’s. Her display out there with Richard was vastly different from the way she handled you.

“Yeah,” Natasha half-smiled. You could see the slight nervousness in her expression. “I’ve never done this before.” She dropped her arms to her side. You immediately missed the contact. You wanted to have her close all the time if you could. “Dated without the expectation of sex. Most of my relationships were curated for work. I-I don’t know how to be someone’s anything. For you, I’m willing to try.” The vulnerability Natasha was showing at that moment made your heart soar.

“I’m willing to try too.” You told her. You reached out your hand and she took it. You pulled her back into you. You took the lead and wrapped her arms around your neck again. It was that night you knew you were a goner. The next few months you and Natasha were inseparable. You were on cloud nine when it came to Natasha.

Everything was easier with her. The two of you had your own traumas and insecurities to work through but it was easy. Loving Natasha was easy despite how much she insisted she wasn’t made for it. As your love for her grew so did your desire to marry her. Two years into your relationship you tied the knot. You bought the very same home you grew your family in. Five bedrooms, three baths, a nice backyard for your future children to play in. Life with Natasha was everything you ever wanted. You welcomed Ryan into the world two years into your marriage. Then Emma. Life with Natasha was magical until it wasn’t.

You don’t want to dwell on the ugly too much. At least not when you’re in the arrival line of Orlando International Airport. You do focus on how the rental you’re in smells “new car fresh”. You tap your fingers against the steering wheel hoping to stave off some of your boredom. You glance around at the moving cars weaving in and out of the line when you spot them. Your family. They’re a few feet away and it’s clear they don’t notice you. You can see Natasha instruct the children to wait there as she reaches behind her in search of her carry-on. She pulls out her phone to check what you assume is her Imessage app. She checks the phone and tucks it back into her pocket. She thinks you’re not going to show. When it’s your turn you honk the horn and pull in front of them. You unbuckle your seatbelt and park the car all within a few seconds. You make sure it’s safe to open your door before exiting the car.

Natasha’s look of surprise is quickly masked by something else. She thought you would send a car for them instead. There’s a cheer from Emma as she spots you. She jumps up and down in place as she hugs her blanket to her chest.

“Mommy, you’re in Florida too?” Emma asks as you plant a kiss on the top of her head. You give Ryan a kiss on his head before grabbing at their luggage.

“Yes, I am.” You smile down at her.

“You didn’t give Mommy a kiss,” Emma points out as you place their things gently into the trunk of the car.

“Oh, it’s okay, she doesn’t need to.” Natasha dismisses but Emma’s pout grows. You realized that you two should have talked about how you were going to handle things with the kids before now.

“But Mommy always kisses hello?” Emma reminds you. She’s confused. If you both were here in the same place it must mean you were going to be together again. That meant her mommies could kiss each other again. Right?

“Emma, remember what we talked about?” You’re not seriously going to lecture her about consent in the middle of the airport but she might need a reminder.

“It’s fine,” Natasha leans over to you, placing her hand on your forearm, as she moves to kiss your cheek. She leans back with fluttering lashes as she crosses her eyes to the kids. This was not a conversation you needed to have right now. You nod and she turns to them. “Mommy is going to show us around Florida. We’re going to be staying with her on our vacation. I wanted it to be a surprise for you.” She’s lying. If you know Natasha and you do, she didn’t tell the kids to protect their hearts if you changed your mind. You didn’t blame her.

“Yeah, I’m going to show you so many cool places,” You tell them.

“Disney World?” Ryan questions.

“Whatever you want.” You tap his nose. “Now what do you say we get this show on the road before Mommy gets a ticket?” You gesture over your shoulder to the airport police hovering a few feet away. You help Emma into her booster seat while Natasha helps Ryan into his. Soon enough you’re on the road and on your way to your hotel. The car ride is relatively silent. Ryan and Emma seem to be holding their own conversation about who they’re going to see when they go to DisneyWorld. You glance over to Natasha to see that she’s watching you.

“I’m really glad you came,” You inform her. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. Again.”

She shrugs half-heartedly. What is she supposed to say? Everything she wants to say would probably be best told when the children are asleep. When you’re alone. You turn back to the road to drive as you both listen to the kids and their stories.

There’s a bit of a problem when you arrive at the hotel. The rooms you got were connected by one door. No big deal. The first room was the one you’d been sleeping in since you arrived two days ago. It was equipped with a king-sized bed, flat-screen tv, and a very impressive mini-fridge. The second bedroom had two double beds and many of the same amenities. The rooms themselves were impressive. It was the kids who made things a bit more difficult for you.

“I want my own bed.” Ryan declared as he tossed his shoes somewhere in the corner. Natasha sighed from behind him as she grabbed the offending items to place them inside the closet. Emma followed after her brother as she plopped onto the second bed.

“I want my own too.” She smiled sweetly up at you.

“Um, one of these was for your mom,” You scratch the back of your head. Natasha’s eyes fly to yours. “I just didn’t want to assume that you wanted to sleep in bed with me.” You try to mumble but by the mischievous smirk on Emma’s face, she’s heard you. What was with her and this matchmaking thing she has going on? Ryan seems to be in on it too as he looks between the two of you.

“We think the kids should have their own room. No mommies allowed.” Ryan shrugs as though he’s not trying to hurt your feelings.

“I’m being kicked out by my own kids.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “I am fine sleeping there. With you.” Natasha tries to appear nonchalant.

“Okay, well let’s take your bags right in here,” You grab for one of Natasha’s suitcases and she follows you into the next room. The door is still open when you hear Emma’s little voice trail into your room.

“Do you think they’re going to make a baby?”

“You need a penis to do that,” Ryan tells her as if it’s obvious.

Your eyes widen and look to Natasha for answers.

“There was a kid, Connie Clark, in Ryan’s class who apparently had ‘the talk’ with her parents so naturally she came to school and told everyone.” Natasha wheeled her bag to the closet. “Which means Ryan told Emma which also means I had to have a very awkward conversation with them about their bodies, autonomy, and the very, very basic parts of where babies come from.” Right. Another thing you missed. While you did find it a bit funny it was only a reminder that you were missing out on a lot. Natasha and you have always had those conversations with the kids together.

“Seems there still may be a few things we have to discuss.” Natasha shook her head. She looks at the bed and the side you’ve taken.

“I can sleep on the pull-out couch they have,” You tell her, and she holds up a hand to stop you from speaking.

“Is sleeping with me going to upset you?”

“No, no, I just don’t want to move too fast with you and mess things up.”

“Well if all we’re doing is sleeping you can’t mess things up,” Natasha assures you. She moves to pull you to sit on the bed. “I came because I wanted to. I came because I want this to work.”

“Me too,” You confess. You find yourself focusing on her lips.

“You know I never did get a proper hello kiss,” Natasha says. She leans over to caress your cheek just as you turn to her. You don’t hesitate this time. Kissing Natasha was all you ever wanted to do. It’s the first time your lips have been on hers since the day in the kitchen. On Emma’s birthday. It lasts longer than you anticipated as you allowed yourself to get lost in Natasha. It’s the sneaky giggling from behind you that causes you to pull away. You can’t tell which one of them has made those obscene kissing noises but you’re sure you can take a guess. “Our kids are assholes.” Natasha opens her eyes slightly. There’s that glint of happiness in her eyes you haven’t seen in a while. Her guard is down.

“That they are,” You bring your hand up to Natasha’s lip to wipe your gloss from a corner of her mouth. Her eyes darken in lust and for a second you wonder if you’re going to survive the night with her in the same bed. You clear your throat and look over to the open door that connects your room. “Okay, you two, let’s get you fed. Where are we going to eat today?” You stand from the bed. You leave Natasha sitting there with her thoughts as you wrangle the kids.

******************

Lunch with the family is fun. It’s amazing how easily you’re able to slip back into your roles with them. Ryan talks to you about his new leggo set while Emma pretends she’s a queen as she sips her lemonade. Natasha is content to watch you interact with them both. They’ve missed you it’s clear and you’ve missed them just as much. There’s a message on your phone that chimes and you tuck it away for later. Whoever it is can wait. You took your meetings earlier this morning with the sole purpose of spending time with your family. Nothing would ruin this for you.

******************

The next destination on your list is the Sea Life Orlando Aquarium. You want to say you bought the tickets for the kids but you can feel Natasha vibrating with excitement as she grips your hand. Sometime during your entry into the aquarium, her hand slipped into yours and she never let go. The kids walked ahead of you as you entered the first hall. Seeing the kids happy with the sea life was amazing, seeing Natasha excited was an entirely different feeling. She didn’t have much of a childhood to go and do all of this. During the time you dated and throughout your marriage, there were times when you’d take her to experience things for the first time. The aquarium was her favorite. Despite how much she protested the idea of an animal she loved them. Especially sea animals.

The 360 aquarium proved to be the most fun as Natasha crouched down with the kids to point out the different types of fish. She smiled widely turning to see if you were paying attention as Ryan read from the information slate. It looks beautiful on her. Happiness. Her smile stops you in your tracks as you watch the way she interacts with them. The way she loves them. She guides them while reading about the fish whenever she gets a chance. You didn’t doubt that a lot of it she already knew. As you continued through the aquarium you almost expected Natasha to take your hand again and she did. It all felt right.

******************* It’s later that night that you feel the awkwardness of your situation. How even after nine years of marriage you’ve gone through a divorce that has changed the both of you. After helping Natasha put the children to bed you both go through your night routines separately. While Natasha is in the shower you check emails and answer back any that you find pressing. You roll your eyes when you find that Tony wants to put a real shark tank in one of his hotels. Totally not your problem right now. You send him a quick text before plugging your phone up for the night. You didn’t hear the shower shut off or Natasha exit the bathroom until she was sitting on the bed in a silk pajama set. It’s a plain shirt and shorts but it does manage to turn you on with the amount of skin you’re seeing. Natasha dries her hair with a towel and it’s then you notice her arms are more defined than you last remember them.

You move to sit next to her and she stops her towel drying to look at you. You take the towel into your hands to help her. She melts into you as she allows you to take on the task.

“Today was fun,” Her voice is raspy and filled with exhaustion. The activities of today are catching up to her.

“Yeah,” You say. When you’re done you toss the towel onto a nearby chair. You could deal with it later. You lower your arms to rest them at Natasha’s waist as you try to keep your composure. She smells like vanilla and coconuts. It’s only recently that she’s used a soap that has a scent. Being a spy she was always very diligent in not making herself noticeable in any way.

She stiffens in your arms just before she allows you to continue. With your left hand, you sweep her hair to her other shoulder to expose her neck. You press a tentative kiss against the flesh before trailing more down her shoulder. Natasha sighs as your touches become more firm. Your hands rub her sides and move down to the top of her thighs. You massage her skin as she leans further into you. It’s not inherently sexual but you can feel yourself becoming wetter just at the feel of Natasha. You dare to run your fingers up the leg of her shorts. Natasha allows you to. Her skin is smooth and soft under your fingers. At least until you feel the raised skin a little higher on her thigh. It’s at an awkward angle and it would be hidden behind her shorts but probably noticeable in a bikini. It’s higher up on her thigh. You feel around it feeling her once again stiffen as you try to assess the freshness of this wound.

“It was four months ago.” Natasha’s voice is devoid of any emotion. You furrow your brows. “I was in Madripoor with Steve and we took down a few guys interfering with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database. Stabbed me right in the leg before he got away.” How didn’t you know this? Where were the kids at the time? Did she take care of herself while tending to them? “It’s old news. Seriously.”

“I’m sorry, Natasha.” You distance yourself more for her than you. “I’m so sorry.” You say for really no reason at all. You’re not the one that stabbed her or sent her on the mission. Natasha could take care of herself.

“Me too.” She whispers before she climbs into the bed. Your moment of intimacy is over and you know the both of you are too tired to discuss the implications of that. You hate that this even needed to be discussed. You felt like a stranger when it came to Natasha. She’s been through so much these past few years and you have a feeling you’re only scratching the surface. You climb onto your side of the bed, reaching for the string of the lamp to turn it off, as you think about just how much you’ve missed.

******************

The next day proves to be different for all of you. Work has you swamped with meetings that run over more than usual. There are only a few more days you have left here in Florida and you’d rather be spending them with your family. Disney World was supposed to be today. You promised them. Again. Yet you have to shoot a quick text to Natasha informing her to take them on her own as you don’t see yourself getting out of here any time soon. You don’t want to imagine how pissed she would be and how disappointed they would be.

You notice your phone go off throughout the day but you’re too busy to get into it. You know it’s Natasha keeping you updated. She’s probably sent you so many pictures and videos of the kids. Hopefully, you’ll be done with your last meeting in time for dinner. As a creative director, you can’t leave things to the other employees. Not like this. So you hunker down and keep pushing through in hopes of getting back to the hotel with your family.

It’s dark when you enter the hotel room. You cross the room to kick off your shoes before tiptoeing to Emma and Ryan’s bedroom. They’re fast asleep. Emma with her blanket tucked into her and Ryan with a new toy by his side. You kiss both of their heads before returning to your room.

You notice the balcony door is open and the cool breeze from there. Natasha is sitting in one of the chairs peering out at the pool below you. You’re on the third floor so not too high up but it’s still an impressive view. You decide to join her.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would take so long. We had to go over contracts, marketing, things with legal.” You tell her as you move to give her a kiss on her forehead. You sit down in the chair beside her. Natasha glances at you for a second before returning her gaze back to the view. There’s a silence that sits between the two of you before she speaks.

“Did I make a mistake coming here?” Natasha asks. She picks up her glass of red wine to sip from it.

“What, Nat, no.” You tell her.

“Hmm,” She swallows the wine. She sets down her cup and looks over to you. “It shouldn’t hurt. I should be used to it by now. You are too busy for us. We don’t fit into this new life you’ve made and no matter how much you’re trying it’s just not working.” Your heart drops as you realize you really did mess up.

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry.” Natasha finishes for you. “I know. I think we would have been fine if you’d bothered to answer any of the texts I sent you. If you bothered to reply at all. I’m not pushy and I’m not clingy. You know this. I couldn’t help but feel I was back in that same space of being the doting and loving housewife who waits and waits and begs for their spouse to love them.”

“You don’t have to beg with me, Natasha.” You assure her. “I didn’t think it would bother you for me to give this one day. I mean this is a work trip.”

“That you invited us to.” She reminds you.

Right.

“I changed all of my schedules. The rest of the week is open to be with you guys.” You inform her. Natasha tilts her head to see if you’re telling the truth. You are.

“Can I ask you what changed?” Natasha suddenly asks. “What shifted for you? You had been creative director when we started dating. The past few years you’ve been distant. You can’t just say you’re busy. We’ve both always been busy.”

“Nat,” You sigh. You really didn’t want to get into this. At her look you know it’s now or never. “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. “After we had Emma I began to feel lost. I felt like I lost who I was and the only way to salvage that was work. I felt weighed down by something and I couldn’t quite tell what it was. We had opposite schedules and it all was just so easier to be at work and know my role there.”

“You felt like we weighed you down?”

“Nat, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” You shake your head. “I felt the opposite. I felt happy. I felt loved but I was afraid. That eventually I’d become the imposter that I felt since I was a little girl. Eventually, it would all blow up in my face. But it’s not so black and white. We grew apart for a bit. We distanced ourselves in more ways than one.”

“Right,” Natasha says.

“Natasha, you have to understand that while I take the blame for everything I’ve done you’re not as innocent as you think.” You want to take it back before you fully said it. It could have been worded differently. The look in her eyes tells you that much. Too late.

“What did I do? Please tell me.” Natasha sits up a bit straighter.

“Nat, I’m not trying to be combative.” You glance behind you to make sure the children aren’t coming. “I meant that both of us have had times where we were less than nice to each other. I remember that day a few years ago you came home and started arguments for no real reason at all.”

“There was always a reason.” Natasha frowned.

“So tell me what!” You say a bit louder than necessary. “Everything I did to apologize and make better it never happened. As much as you’d like to think that you were being the perfect wife there are moments where I just couldn’t make you happy. We didn’t know how to work through our problems. That much is clear. The entire reason for the divorce was to give us both that breath of air.”

“As if you didn’t have it before,” Natasha mutters.

“Fuck, Nat,” You cry out. “This is exactly what happens. You beat around the bush. You don’t say what you mean until you’re angry and ready to throw it in my face. Do you want me to say I was busy? Yes, I’ll admit that. Do you want me to say how I’ve disappointed our kids? I’ll admit that too. Do you want me to say that I’m the sole reason our marriage went to shit? Not going to happen.”

“That’s not what I want.” Natasha looks down at her hands.

“Then tell me, I’m not Wanda, I don’t. I can’t read minds.” You wave your hand for her to look at you. “If I did it would save me a lot of trouble let me tell you. What is it that you want from me, Nat?”

“I wanted you to be there,” Natasha shouts over you. “I wanted you to be there. Okay.” She’s speaking past tense.

“What, Nat, be there for what?” Your voice is lower and more hushed as you realize how broken she sounds. Her tears are falling quicker this time and it startles you. “Nat?”

She looks down at her hands avoiding your gaze as she speaks. “Do you remember November 5th a few years ago? I kept nagging you about an appointment we had.” You shake your head in the negative. “Well, I do because I programmed it into both of our calendars.” At your look of confusion, she continues. “You had an impromptu work trip and I figured you just forgot about the day and that I could just reschedule. But I had this bright idea and I went to the doctor’s alone.” Natasha rolls her eyes at herself. “So I went. I wanted to know for myself. Whether I could.” Natasha isn’t speaking in complete sentences which still leaves you a bit confused and you’re catching on quickly. Your eyes widen. You’re putting two and two together. You remember it now. The trip had been a month-long and had taken up all of your energy. You remember her calling you and you being excited about finally making progress with work. It takes everything in you to recall the way she sounded. Over the phone, Natasha sounded different but you thought she was just missing you. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“No, no, no,” You shake your head. You don’t know if it’s possible but your brain is thinking before you can stop it. “Please, Natasha.” You move from your chair to sit on your knees in front of her. Had she been pregnant? Did she miscarry? How could you not have noticed? You want to puke with the thought of Natasha clutching her stomach in pain as she lost her baby. Your baby. Alone. She can see the wheels turning in your head.

“It never happened.” She reveals. “Even after the reversal of the tubal ligation that the Red Room gave me, it didn’t happen. The doctor said that with my line of work and how much trauma I’ve taken to my abdomen even with IVF, the chances of it happening were slim to none.” She lowers her eyes to her lap. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen Natasha and you know it’s taking a lot out of her to tell you this. “I just… I wanted to give you a baby.” Natasha blinks back the tears and your heart shatters instantly. “I wanted to feel them inside of me. I wanted my belly to grow too. I wanted that for myself and I know it’s stupid that I ever thought I could.” Natasha’s bottom lip trembles and you know she’s trying to keep herself from crying any further.

“You’re not stupid for wanting that, Tasha.” You reach your hand up to take hers in yours.

“Aren’t I? I mean, before I met you, I knew it could never happen and I was fine with it.” Natasha shakes her head. “I was fine with never having that. I resented you for giving me hope. I resented you for being what I couldn’t. That’s when the fighting continued. You didn’t notice and all I wanted for you was for you to hold me and tell me things were going to be okay.”

“And I just worked and worked and assumed that you weren’t happy because I wasn’t making you happy.” You summarize. Fuck.

“Please don’t blame yourself for what I just told you.” Natasha frowns. “ I didn’t lie. I was still happy with you. I still wanted you. I wanted that depression to go away and I wanted to forget I ever even tried. I wanted us to push forward.”

“Instead we became something entirely different.” You say. Natasha nods in agreement. “We were too many things at once without ever really being together at the time. We grew into something ugly and we never addressed it healthily. I became distant because I thought I couldn’t make you happy and then you thought the same. I just want to make it clear you’re not less of a woman than me because of this. I wanted you and still want you despite all of it. I love you, Natasha. I love you and I always have.”

“How do we fix this?” Natasha peers out over the balcony. “How do we fix us without falling into the same pattern?”

“We take it one day at a time.” You say. “We do the work. We stay honest. And I- I take off of work for a while.”

“What, y/n, you don’t have to do that.” Natasha looks at you again.

“No, I think I do,” You assure her. “At least for now. My family needs me. I want to be there for you.”

Natasha’s green eyes show just how much she’s hurt and heartbroken all at once.

“Okay,” She says finally. You stand to lead her back to the bed. She follows and waits for you to crawl under the covers. You raise the cover for her to climb in and you take her into your arms. She turns so that she’s the small spoon to your big one. She’s pressed so close to you and you never want to let her go. You can feel the sobs rack her body as she silently cries. You can feel your own tears drenching your pillow as you kiss the back of her head.

Marriage was hard. Marriage was tough. But so were you.

You and Natasha would work on things together. You would take it one day at a time just like you said.

---> next part

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you #angst #trigger warning

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beybaldes · 1 year

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love is fast asleep on a dirt road with your head on my shoulder

summer sleepover masterlist

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary : "one having to sit in the other’s lap when space is tight and them both blushing like crazy over it" requested by anon.

an : jamie tartt makes me want to twist my hair around my finger, bite my lip, bat my eyelashes, swing my feet and giggle

The party was long over, but it had taken till 5am for some of you to realise that. You, Jamie, Sam, Isaac and Richard were all waiting outside the club for a taxi to take you back to the hotel you were staying in for the away game.

It didn’t even occur to you, until the taxi had pulled up, that there were five of you and four seats available. Isaac had quickly taken the front seat of the taxi, next to the driver, leaving the other four of you to debate how you were going to squeeze into the back seat.

Richard had immediately offered you his lap with a flirtatious smile, but Jamie had told him no on your behalf. Maybe, if Richard hadn’t been trying to get in your pants from the moment you first met, he would’ve let you, but it didn’t feel right in the moment. Sam offered his lap up next with the sweetest smile, putting his hands in in surrender and promising no funny business, just a ride back to the hotel. Jamie, yet again, had disagreed on your behalf, announcing to the group that you’d be sitting on his lap on the journey so he could guarantee no funny business would occur.

“Seems to me like you want them to be sat with you, Jamie.” Sam had teased, resulting in a scoff from Jamie as the four of you tried to get into the back of the taxi.

“Yeah right.”

Though you wouldn’t have admitted it, you were happy Jamie’s lap had been the one you ended up in. You’d been clinging to his arm since your fourth drink and you weren’t willing to give up on holding him now. When the taxi began to drive off in the direction of the hotel, you took the opportunity to snuggle yourself into the crook of Jamie’s neck; selfishly using the moment knowing that you could blame it on the alcohol later.

Jamies entire face flushed at your actions; the apples of his cheeks burned a furious red that spread all down his neck and all the way up to the tips of his ears. He hoped to anything that non of the others in the cab would notice what the close proximity was doing to him. If they did, then they would’ve known that Sam was right, he’d stolen the opportunity because of the crush he’d been harbouring on you for months now.

“You okay?” Jamie whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Even if he’d talked at a normal volume, you doubted the others would’ve heard, all of them wrapped up in their own conversations.

“Yeah, ‘m good.” You cuddled yourself deeper into Jamie between murmurs, struggling to get the words out properly as your late night started to catch up to you. “Sleepy. And you’re so warm.”

Jamie didn’t think his face could get redder, but it clearly had, Sam nudging him in the side with a teasing smile. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, instead, a smile pulling at his lips.

“You go to sleep then love, I’ll be right here.” One of his hands moved to cup the back of your head, keeping it tucked in the safety and warmth of the crook of his neck. The other remained around your waist, keeping you in his lap with each bump in the road. “I’ll wake you up when we get back to the hotel, yeah?”

“You’re so kind, Jamie.” You hummed, pressing a kiss to his collar bone with the slight tilt of your head, dropping immediately to sleep after.

Jamie had never considered himself nice, but he knew you were. And if you thought he was nice? Then maybe he was becoming the type of man who deserved to hold you like this; maybe he could hold you more often.

#beybaldes summer sleepover !!#jamie tartt oneshot #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader

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turtledovenycx · 11 months

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𝐆𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐔𝐬 (𝐇.𝐇𝐉)

🎧 Glimpse of Us - Joji

"The painting thus shifted into a window, with the glimpse of the two of you, hair white as a canvas sitting on the bench during a Sakura festival"

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

𝐭𝐚𝐠: 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲

𝐖.𝐂 𝟑.𝟐𝐤

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ɴᴏɴᴇ

“An art museum?” you asked straightening the wrinkles on your dress as you got out of the car. “You’ll see,” Hyunjin reassured next to you holding onto your purse. He was wearing a dashing black suit embroidered with small stones and chains not too flashy with black slacks. The buttons of his coat are done with no shirt underneath. The cut was low enough to showcase the smooth plains of his chest. His hair was done neatly to add to his already sexy aura.

“If someone asks me questions I’m just gonna say it's contemporary,” you said as he handed the purse to you his chuckle sending a shiver through you. Your boyfriend had brought you to an extravagant collector’s event. It was lavish the owner spared no expense. It was at the collectors' hall, built like a church with finely detailed architecture. Statues of angels sat atop the high pillars and painted glass in the shape of ovals at the apex of the arches. The hall was decorated in almost heavenly aesthetics, the people dressed and adorned in expensive garments and perfumes and you fit right into the crowd. Wearing a beautiful dress with a jewel corset on you draws attention to your waist and breast. Hair done and pulled up a rich-looking hair clip inserted in your hair.

“No one talks at this kind of function darling.” He reassured as he led you through the entrance, a hand on the small of your waist. You nodded at the well-dressed butler who welcomed you with a courtesy. The hallway led to a big drawing room filled with people talking in hushed whispers. The click of heels and boots rang as people walked and servers holding trays of champagne slithered through the crowd gracefully. Hyunjin grabbed two flutes and gave one to you, you sipped the fizzy sweet liquid and it tickled your throat as it went down.

“Do you know anyone here?” you asked Hyunjin who appeared to be searching for someone in the crowd. “Yeah some people, the person who invited us,” he explained. The guests seemed to know each other, engaging in conversations easily. “So what’s my surprise?” you asked turning to him. The man had promised a surprise for you earlier that night.

“You will see soon. I promise.” He said holding your plam and placing a kiss on it like some prince from the 80’s. He was adoring the soft blush on your cheek when his eyes saw someone approaching the two of you. You turned to see a man in his thirties smile bright and arms open.

“Hyunjin. You made it such a pleasure.” the man said hugging your boyfriend and then holding his hands. “Pleasure is all mine,” Hyunjin said giving his hand a brief shake.

“You’ve brought someone?” the man asked the duo turning towards you.

“Yes, my girlfriend,” Hyunjin said placing an arm on your waist and bringing you close,

“Love, meet Mr.Gyu, he collects and presents art in events like this.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say shaking Mr.Gyu’s hand. “Pleasure is all mine dear. I hope the two of you have a wonderful time,” he said the conversation shifted to the theme of the event and how 40% of the revenue is dedicated to building schools in third-world countries. A charity and arts organization. Being a social worker yourself you slipped easily into the conversation. The feedback of the mic interrupted the three of you.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” a voice that aged well reached the corners of the room. You saw a man his head held high holding onto the mic. “Thank you for joining us this evening.”

“He is Richard Kim the owner of del a casa,” Hyunjin whispered into your ear as the two of you clapped. The man on stage appeared to be in his 50s, dressed well in expensive fabrics from head to toe.

You learned from Hyunjin that he was famous for organizing collector’s events and auctions, his wife Minerva- you noticed a lady dressed in black standing at one side of the stage- beautiful as the goddess of wisdom herself. She came from a reputable family was well-known for holding charity events and ran a law firm. She walked onto the stage waving like a queen and standing beside her husband. The mic was passed on and Minerva explained how the money collected today would be used to provide for people who were still underprivileged. The way she spoke, embedding each word into your mind, she captured the room with her presence. The speech ended with claps and the couple urged the guests to move forward into the presentation room.

The presentation room’s floor was laid with a red carpet. Paintings lined the walls and precious artifacts, sculptures, and jewels were placed neatly in a pattern. You gasped at the ceilings, almost built like a cathedral with big chandeliers hanging at different heights, the room was lit in a dim glow almost like it did not want to disturb the artwork, it felt like stepping into an old book written by Shakespeare

“Beautiful.” You registered Hyunjin’s voice, he looked ethereal in the warm lighting, the light bouncing off the chains on his coat making them almost shimmer. Hyunjin knew about your silent fascination with expensive events. Events that threw money into it like they were mere paper, events for people that were rarely seen in public but held a high position in society. The dresses, the gala, and the taste of the alcohol served there captivated you. You were not high maintenance quite the contrary actually, but functions like this were his way of fulfilling your quiet wishes and he was always grateful to his work and fans for it. And your way of feeling like a princess. His princess.

The evening carried on. Hyunjin introduced you to a few of his friends Cleo, Andres, and Tae-hyung.

Cleo who had one of her sculptures in the front, an angel with his wings torn and resting in his hands, despite the anguish of his wings being ripped, his face portrayed calmness, like the one after a war. It held a lot of meaning and you ranted to Hyunjin on what it meant. Andres was a painter in the early stage of his fame and Tae-hyung was a famous collector’s son. Hyunjin knew them from events like these. The crowd diluted into the night and finally, Hyunjin and you were alone admiring the artwork and talking about hidden meanings and perspectives.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” he whispered into your ear as you were looking at a funny-looking painting of an old man who appears to have lost his shoe. “Wait.. this isn’t it. There’s more?” you ask still letting the feeling of all the luxury seep in.

Hyunjin led you into one of the many rooms with displays, this one on the farthest side. It was less crowded presumably the work of a new artist.

There at the center of the room drawing all the attention was a beautiful painting hung on a big frame. The painting was of a street supposedly in Japan in April. The cherry blossom petals were so delicately painted as though if you touched it you could feel the smoothness. The street was covered in the previous fall almost making the whole of it a light pink. The painting was so real in all of the works you had seen today. It reminded you of the time when you were in Japan…. Wait?

You gasped turning around to find Hyunjin looking almost shy as he stared at your realisation... You had been on this exact street last summer with Hyunjin, it was an important milestone in your relationship. He had confessed his love for you on this very street during the Sakura festival, the moment so bittersweet because you had almost lost him because of his fame.

“What? Who?” you asked stepping closer to the painting, memories of that day rushing to you. You were about to leave Japan and Hyunjin that day. Both of you making hasty decisions because of the lack of quality time. The argument had started over Hyunjin never being there for you nor trying to acknowledge your efforts to be there for him, over time due to the strain of living in two different worlds -him being a famous star and you leading a quieter life- you had become almost invisible in the relationship. Exhausted and sad both of you had thrown hateful comments at each other until you packed your bags and left in the middle of the night.

It was the night before the Sakura festival, the streets crowded in preparation as you walked away from the merriment wiping tears, This was it? The end? You couldn’t imagine not being with Hyunjin, not being able to love him, not seeing him, not waking up to him, Yes, you were deeply hurt at his ignorance of your efforts to be with him but you were at fault too. Hyunjin tried but the pressure he faced sometimes overwhelmed him, his need to be his best overpowered his worries and you in general. It was not his fault, you knew how much he had suffered during the awful hiatus he faced. Hyunjin after that developed an alter ego, a fear if you will of never giving a reason to be blamed again.

But now it was too late, the words that left the two of you cut deep it was too late to turn back, your pride did not allow it no matter how much your soul cried for him. All flights were booked for the night and early morning the only available ones in the afternoon, you sat on a rickety bench and broke down.

Hyunjin was having a tough time accepting himself, he had gone to the hotel bar and was lightly buzzed before Seungmin joined him. The younger boy though appeared uninterested was wise for his age knocking sense into Hyunjin and urging him to run after you to fight for the two of you before it was too late. He loved you and if it came to his work or you, it was an easy choice.

The blossoms covered the footpaths as Hyunjin found you on the bench hunched over sobbing, you looked up to see him, a moment of tension before the two of you sprinted to close the distance, hugging as tight as possible. He lifted you off the ground and twirled before placing you back. Apologies covered in kisses were shared, he kissed every inch of your face trying to ensure that you were real, you had not left! That night Hyunjin professed his love for you, he spoke words that were still branded on your heart, you told him how you could not even imagine a time when Hyunjin was not yours, that you would rather die. The two of you rarely slept that night talking through it, promising to always find each other during any rush, and making love. Pride and ego fell apart as the two of you became vulnerable to each other under the moon. It opened a new page for your relationship. A healthier more fun page.

You had not noticed it at first glance but amidst the stark trees and blossoms painted was an old bench upon closer inspection you found two figures sitting on it, aged and staring away into the infinity.

“That’s us,” Hyunjin whispered into your ear. At the bottom of the painting in calligraphic font was a capital H in white paint.

“You made this?” you asked, the notion overwhelmed, no consumed your soul in the best way. It was a gift for you. Hyunjin painted the most painful yet the happiest night of your life. In front of you was the greatest symbol of his love for you.

“How is it here?” you asked when Hyunjin gestured across the room your eyes followed. Mr.Gyu raised his glass of scotch towards the two of Hyunjin nodding in gratitude.

“He introduced me to Kim who loved this particular and wanted to buy it from me.”

You couldn’t help but feel a little sad at that. As much as you were proud of your insanely talented boyfriend this painting was a part of the two of you, selling it to a stranger who does not understand the inner meaning of it felt empty.

“I can hear the gears shift from here baby.” Hyunjin teased you.

“No, sorry. It’s just… it is so beautiful Hyunnie. It’s so….”

“I know love, that’s why it will always be in our home.”

“What?” you asked. This was a big opportunity for Hyunjin, exhibiting his work could be his breakthrough as an artist, and the fact it was brought by someone famous.

“No but…”

“I declined their offer, I made this for you. For us.”

“But..” you protested, he shushed you holding you closer.

“Don’t worry they liked my work that's why I was allowed to exhibit it tonight, I was offered to sign a contract with Mr.Gyu. I will have to paint 4 pieces in a year and sell it to him. NDA closure of course.”

“Oh my god Hyunjin!” you said hugging him and jumping around like a little girl. “I’m so proud of you!” you screamed but was shushed by others in the room.

‘Sorry,’ you mouthed and bowed to everyone before turning to your beaming boyfriend.

He stared at you with the same emotions from that day. All that was missing was the blossom petals around you but it was there, in the painting.

The two of you turned to the painting again.

“Where will we keep it?” he asked holding you from behind as the two of you stared at the piece. Nothing else in the exhibition excited you anymore not even the classy food or music, you just wanted to stay here in front of his painting in the arms of the man you love.

“The drawing room?” he asked beaming with pride wanting everyone who walked into your home to see the love you two shared.

“We can but how about our bedroom?” you asked

“The bedroom? People won't see it.” His hands held your waist turning you to face him.

“We will see it though. Only us. Before we sleep, as soon as we wake up. When we are watching a movie, when you read your poems and I’m doing something else, when we have sex, when I am mad at you or you are mad at me and we are sulking, and it will just be one more reminder of why I cannot live without you… A reminder that you’re it for me…. I love you so much Hyunjin.” you say tearing up

“I think I like that better, I love you more princess. So so much more,” he said kissing you again just as the event was called to closing, the lights dimmed but the two of you did not move. Standing there kissing for as long as you could.

And in that moment you knew, he will choose you over everything, over his fame, over his wealth, over his self. He will always choose you, and you will too. The two of you stuck together through it all the proof was right in front of you. It’s almost silly how an artwork can hold so much meaning but it did. Hyunjin was a man of many talents, loved by millions around the world. He had worked hard to earn everything he has now including you. You were truly the luckiest person in the whole world. You get to call him yours.

There in front of the symbol of his love for you, you kissed him, kissed him so passionately with fervor because you knew you were gonna marry him someday. You were gonna have a family with him, fight more with him, laugh more, and grow old. Even when both of you become old and wrinkly, barely able to move around you know you will be fine as long as Hyunjin is there to hold your hand. The painting thus shifted into a window, with the glimpse of the two of you, hair white as a canvas sitting on the bench during a Sakura festival. It was a long way to go but you hoped it would be longer.

“Here?”

“A little to the left?” you asked stepping a few steps back to inspect. Hyunjin measures again before drilling a nail into the wall.

“Now?”

“Yes. Perfect. I’ll get it.” you giggled running into the foyer to grab the newly arrived painting.

After coming back home you and Hyunjin did not sleep till the wee hours of the morning. He sealed all his words with kisses on your body and you marked his milky skin in return. The painting had arrived as the two of you were enjoying breakfast.

“Careful,” Hyunjin says holding onto your hip as your small frame attempts to lift the bigger piece.

“Let me help,” he said offering to carry it, Kkami followed the two of you as you reminded Hyunjin you wanted to hang it.

“Okay, up we go angel,” he said helping you onto the small stepping chair and handing you the painting. The nails were at the perfect spot, and you were able to hang it with ease.

Kkami barked in celebration as the two of you clapped like dorks. Still standing on the chair you leaned back Hyunjin wrapping his arms around you.

“It’s beautiful, you’re quite the artist Hwang,” you said yelping when he lifted you off and twirled before falling onto the bed laughing.

“Thank you baby,” he said, shying away as you placed kiss after kiss on his face. The room filled with giggles.

It was almost noon once you guys finished vacuuming the wall dust from the floor and mopped the room for good measure. Kkami was lounging on the bed before running off as his lunch was served. The two of you sat on the bed admiring his work.

“Have you thought about Mr.Gyu's offer?” you asked him,

“I don’t know, I will be on tour soon. I will have to find time I also need to find a studio, It's a pretty big commitment I will have to spend a lot of time and with the new comeb-” he rambled on before quieting down, he was thinking alright just a lot of doubt in him.

“Baby it's okay I was just asking, it's your choice but I know if you accept it you will find a way to make it work. It's a big opportunity we don't have to rush to make a decision. Take some time to think it over. Just don’t regret whatever you choose. And whatever it is just know I'll be here okay?"

“Did I mention that I love you?” he asked kissing you, your lips breaking into a grin as he kissed you before carrying you out of the room. For lunch.

You glanced at the wall over his shoulder. The painting was big, it covered most of the space on the wall, and the shelf next to it seemed smaller than it should have been. Next to Hyunjin’s work sat his poetry books, sketchbooks, and other stuff. Also joining the organised mess was your novels, paperweight, and Jiniret. It was as if the room came in full circle. Words could not express how thankful you were for not leaving that night, for deciding to stay, for loving him. Yup, the blossoms were gonna stay with you for a long time just like this long-haired man you loved.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘤𝘹 ©

A/N: Hope you enjoy it, I tried to incorporate some art into it cause Hyunjin to me is an equal amount of idol and artist. He is just so talented and I hope he gets many opportunities to display his art. I might create an NSFW version not sure. I took my time on this one so please show it some love

_nyx.☽༊˚

#nyx writings.☽༊˚#stray kids #skz x reader #skz smut #kpop #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #kpop fanfic #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin soft hours #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #kpop scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyujin imagines

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neoarchipelago · 2 years

Text

And they were Rommates (part 18)

A/N: Ok so, a bit of a cool, chill chapter. I've been a bit mean to you. So a bit of a nice calm moment. I swear it's because i'm nice. I'm nice, i swear.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ CONTENT.

You blinked open your eyes. It was dark outside. You noticed it immediately. You also noticed that Simon wasn't with you. You stretched your limbs, you were sore. You were still wearing the bunny suit. Blushing, you reviewed in mind the reaction Simon had. You giggled to yourself before deciding you were hungry.

Simon was a master of aftercare. He cleaned you up, brought water, asked if you wanted snacks, and then it was cuddle time. Turns out you fell asleep this time. Getting up slowly, you hopped your way out of the bedroom and into the hallway. You were wearing the bunny headband, that you were sure you had lost when you were railed up.

Simon must have put it back on your head while you slept and that made you melt. The house was quiet. You wondered where the boys were, especially Simon.

Once you reached the end of the stairs you hopped to the living room area twirling around in the pretty dress.

Eyes. Looking at you. Many. You yelped, jumping.

"What the fuck guys! Why are you creeping like that?!" You yelled.

Simon stood, leaning back against the counter arms crossed while the squad, price included, sat at the large table.

"This is why you got us out of the house!" Soap said, offended.

Riley had jumped as soon as he had heard you yelp, you were trying to handle the big boy trying to receive pets from you.

Gaz laughed, Price chuckled under his breath. Konig looked slightly embarrassed.

Simon was eyeing you confidently. You'd thought he'd be somehow jealous or would want to hide you. Instead he looked proud. He was gushing over you, and proudly showing what's his. You felt yourself get warm.

"Just… got down to get a snack. Continue… whatever you guys are doing."

You walked over to the kitchen feeling Simon's stare as you walked.

"Actually… captain. I got places to be." Soap interjected, getting up and smoothing his jacket.

You noticed he was indeed well dressed and pampered.

"Well, where are you going young man?" You teased as you grabbed something from the fridge.

"I'm taking Margo and Tyler out to dinner, and then we're going to the arcade." He said with a big grin.

You gasped and jumped happily to the counter.

"No way!! You asked her out!"

"I asked them out. I have to win them both." He said, a tiny bit of stress in his voice.

"Oh don't worry. I think Tyler loves you already." Gaz added.

You smiled happily at him.

"What made you move sergeant?" Price asked, visibly curious.

"Well." He started, turning his face to you. "Someone told me that we shouldn't waste time. Because things happen, and then we don't get to see our plans happen." He finished with a soft smile.

You blushed, half embarrassed, avoiding Simon's gaze at all cost. Soap ran to you, kissing your cheek before running off. You were captivated by your drink.

"Actually sir… I…I… have to go too…"

You looked up at Konig's voice, eyes wide.

"Don't tell me you have a date too…" Price looked slightly shocked yet arbourded a wide smile on his face.

"I.. I'm going to watch a movie with Grim.. I-I'll be right in front so if you need-"

"No Konig it's alright. Enjoy your movie night." You said in a soft voice.

His eyes wrinkled behind the mask before he waved and started walking away.

"Wait! Comin' with ya. Gonna see if Aquila and Richard are up to some gaming tonight." Gaz said, standing up and running off behind Konig.

Simon seemed to chuckle before turning around facing you. Thank God the counter was separating you two because you just wanted to kiss that man, by the simple way he looked at you.

"Some coffee captain?" You asked, eyes not leaving Simon.

"Gladly but I don't want to hold the candles." He joked.

"You'll be alright Price. Get a coffee with us and then you can run off." Simon added, heading to the coffee machine to prepare said coffee.

Price sighed but accepted. He rose to his feet, walking to the counter taking a seat in front of you. You looked up at him, a small smirk on your lips.

"I know what you want to ask." He said with a smile.

"Do you?" You said in the same tone.

"Yes I do"

"I haven't said a thing."

"I can see it, so go on. Ask."

"Do you want me to ask?" You teased.

"It doesn't matter-" he started.

"Why aren't you with Elizabeth tonight?" Simon rang from behind you, making you choke on your drink.

Price suddenly looked embarrassed. Simon walked back to the counter, putting two cups of coffee down, and a snack for you that you happily accepted.

"Simon. It's…"

"Complicated?" He joked.

Price sighed again.

"What's so complicated?" You asked.

"She's… half my age."

"So?" Simon questioned.

"So. She deserves better. Someone who'll take her on dates, full of energy. Not someone who'll come home and get dinner and sit on the couch watching TV before going to bed."

"I've seen you run faster than Johnny on missions." Simon said, annoyance peaking through his eyes.

You chuckled again.

"You're all but old Price. And you're a gentleman." You tried.

"I think that's not enough." He answered.

"That's not up to you to decide." Simon interupted.

You blinked looking at him.

"Someone, informed me. That it wasn't up to us to decide if they care or not." He finished lifting his mask to take a sip of his coffee.

Price looked at you and you tried to look away.

"You do teach good things to my boys." He teased. It made you smile.

"Perhaps it's time I teach you something and you listen." You finally said. "John. Elizabeth is a sweet girl. She's calm. She's strong. She's head over heels with you." Price looked taken aback. "You need to stop being an idiot and start letting yourself live. It won't kill you to try things with her. I'm asking you to take her out on a date, you clearly both want to. You don't have to ask her to marry you tonight." You teased.

You were almost sure you heard Simon laugh under his breath. Price looked amused.

"Well… maybe you're right… but how do I do that?"

"Be yourself. Chicks dig that as gaz would say." Simon said, taking another sip.

"Do chicks dig that? Yeah. Yeah they do." You teased.

Price seemed to think for a few long seconds before he downed the rest of his coffee and got up.

"I hope she likes grilled meat. There's a pub grill that I've been dying to try…" he said.

He still looked stressed as he put on his coat.

"She'll love it. Just don't overthink this. Enjoy yourselves." You said with a reassuring smile.

"Yeah. I fucked it up by overthinking at the beginning…. Don't do that." Simon said, suddenly very serious.

You felt a ping in your heart. You remembered your first fights. When he had left for missions without a word. You felt sad for a second and he noticed it.

"I'm sorry baby I-.."

He leaned down letting his forehead touch yours as he held you in his arms now.

"It's ok. It's gone. We made it Simon." You answered with a smile before turning your heads to look at Price.

"You two are amazing together. I'm happy for both of you." He said truly, making you smile. "Now start making babies." He finished, making you gasp and then bite your lip as he walked out on that note.

"Such a good idea…"

You snapped your head back to Simon.

"Simon!"

He kissed you in a chuckle.

"How about… a date night for us too?" He proposed.

"Hmmm… what did you have in mind?" You asked excitedly.

"Well… how about, video games, pizza, and then… I'll make love to you until all you can think of is my name." He whispered, looking deeply into your eyes.

You took a second to breath, biting your lip, his eyes following the movement.

"That sounds amazing…"

The next morning the house was buzzing. Everyone was there, Kate included but except Melissa and Amy. It was Sunday and everyone had come over for a barbecue at lunch.

Summer was finally here. The warm sun, the heat. It felt great. Of course, the house had a summer pool in the backyard, covered by wood floors in the colder months. Everyone was stoked. Tyler and Soap ran around playing with water guns, Gaz, Konig, Grim and Richard following the move. Price and Simon were at the grill while you sat at the table with Elizabeth and Margo.

"So how was your date?" You asked, looking at Margo.

"Weeelllll. It was… honestly very nice. It was chill, fun, and I really enjoyed myself." She started.

"And?" 'Liza asked.

"And… I think… I don't know. But the way Tyler and him just get along so well… you know? The arcades were the best moment. I haven't seen Tyler so happy in a very long while." She explained.

"I haven't seen you this happy in a long while." You commented softly.

She smiled.

"I'm so happy for you…" Liza said.

You nodded at her words.

"What about you Liz? How was it?" You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Wait! No way!" Margo interrupted with wide eyes but a playful grin on her face.

"Well…" she started as she blushed, throwing a look at Price.

You noticed, of course, the little look the man shared with her, the little smile.

"Oh. my. god. You have. To tell us." Margo half whispered. You giggled.

"It was amazing. We went to eat, and he was so nice. It was a bit… stressful at the beginning because… he showed up out of nowhere yesterday night. He asked if perhaps I was hungry and I'd like to dine with him… I swear I didn't know where to put myself. I… was blushing so hard!" She told the both of you before hiding her face in her hands.

Margo was hyping her up, jumping in her seat.

"And and and??" She pushed.

"And… I accepted. I wanted to get dressed properly but… he said I looked beautiful, and I shouldn't stress about it."

"I knew it, that old asshole has Rizz." You commented, making her chuckle.

"The diner was… really nice. We talked very comfortably… he didn't try to hide. He was a bit uncomfortable with how young I was but… we talked about it. Turns out… we're seeing each other again tonight we're doing something calm… at his house."

Margo was now a mess, she looked like we had informed her she had won the jackpot at a casino. She was gathering almost everyone's attention, especially Tyler and Soap.

"Hey! What's making you so happy mama?" Soap asked with a wink, Tyler jumping next to him.

"The both of you. You're both making me so happy!" Margo answered with a smile.

Tyler cheered, hugging his mom before giving Soap a high five. You laughed a bit, taking Liz's hand in yours, giving her a reassuring smile. You got up still holding her hand making her follow you. You walked towards the big grill. Simon had a way to watch you every time you moved that made you want to fall on your knees for him.

"Hello ladies." Price greeted.

You could see from the corner of your eye Liz smiled and looked down.

"So. How have you treated my girl John?" You asked, taking a very motherly tone.

"Well… I hope I was a gentleman.." he answered with a little smile.

"Oh you were! Don't pay attention to her! She's always like this…" Liz whined, pushing you a bit with her shoulder, earning another laugh from you.

You let her go, walking towards Simon who immediately wrapped his arms around you. Liz walked to Price, standing next to him. Simon dropped a kiss on top of your head. Today he wore a balaclava. Aquila had found another facemask that would hide the lower part of his face, a skull print on it but he wasn't entirely comfortable with it yet. He was getting a bit more comfortable not wearing a mask at home, though it was still rare. You wouldn't push him, it didn't matter to you, behind closed doors, you had all of him.

It was a beautiful day, yes. But something still bothered you.

"What's wrong baby?" He asked.

"Melissa isn't here yet. She's not usually late…" you said.

"Why don't you call her? Ease your mind." He said.

You nodded before kissing his cheek and separating. You took out your phone, pressing 'call'. The phone rang, again and again, before it hung up. You frowned looking at your phone. You were going to dial again when you received a text.

Hey Darling! So sorry! Amy is sick… she's sleeping right now, can't answer… probably won't make it today.

"Oh…" you let out.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked from behind you.

"Amy's sick… they won't be able to make it…" you let out.

"Well… at least we know why. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah… we should pass by later tonight to check up on them."

"We will."

You smiled up at him again.

"Come on everyone! Let's eat!" Price called everyone.

The afternoon went by smoothly, everyone decided to get down for a monopoly. Though you were too much, teams were therefore created. Soap, Margo and Tyler. Konig and Grim. Gaz, Áquila and Car Keys. Price and Liz. You and Simon.

You hadn't fully grasped the actual warning Simon had given you when you had first moved in. Konig was yelling in German at Gaz in only 30 minutes. Car keys tried to back him up. Soap and his team kept ending up in jail, Tyler found it really funny. You and Simon were just trying to have fun while chaos bloomed. Price and Liz were at the top of the board. Turns out they made a wonderful team together.

It went on for hours until everyone decided to stay for dinner. You had decided to text Melissa then.

Hey! How's Amy doing? Do you need something? I can pass by real quick.

Hey thank you but that won't be necessary. She's really tired and cranky. Just trying to get her to rest.

Alright… please call if you need anything.

Thank you.

You frowned at your phone. You felt like something was off. The way she texted you. Perhaps Amy had really come up with something that worried her.

"Y/N."

You jumped, spinning around.

"Simon!"

"I'm sorry, did I scare you?"

"You are too sneaky sometimes…" you giggled.

"What's wrong. You were frowning…"

"Melissa… refused my help. She said Amy's too tired." You answered with a frown.

"Alright. Tell me why it worries you."

"Usually… She always needs help, or at least accepts it. It feels a bit off."

"Calm down darling, perhaps she's tired herself. Remember when you had to take care of Soap?"

You laughed a bit. Yes you did remember. He nuzzled you, holding you close. You heard the laughs, the yells and the conversations behind you. You felt at peace. Finally.

"Simon…"

He hummed in response.

"I love you. Thank you, for being part of my life." You whispered only for his ears.

"I love you too. Thank you, for building me a home."

You felt yourself fall even more for him. Yes. Home. This is what it felt like.

"Hey, love birds!" Soap called, gaining your attention.

"You got time to cuddle, come spend time with us!"

You chuckled again while Simon sighed. You still decided to join them. Night fell, you improvised dinner and then decided on another board game. You excused yourself to the kitchen after losing and surrendering. You were cleaning a bit around when someone walked in.

Simon stood, phone in hand, eyeing your body up and down. He tilted his head, making you chuckle. You felt warm just feeling his gaze over you. He tapped on his phone, throwing a few glances at you. You frowned but couldn't help but smile.

"What are you doing Simon?" You asked.

He stepped closer, tapping a bit more before turning the phone to you.

There, on a website, was written 'purchase confirmed.' . You looked at the article's eyes opening wide. Maid outfit, cat outfit, angel, devil and a cow one.

"Simon… what is this?" You blushed heavily.

He chuckled, dropping his phone, arms wrapping around you.

"Well. Turns out I found the receipt for the bunny suit. Searched for the name and they have a website."

He nuzzled in your neck. Your hands on his forearms, head falling back to give him access.

"Thought about buying more cute outfits I can fuck you in. Fuck… wear them around the house, cooking, watching TV, sleeping…"

You bit your lip at his words.

"Simon… you liked it that much?"

He had lifted his mask, now biting down on your neck, leaving cute little marks behind.

"I loved it. You look beautiful, adorable. I'd change your entire closet for cute pretty outfits if you'd wear them for me everyday."

"You're addicted sir…" you teased.

"It's my second order…" he whispered against your neck.

You wanted to scold him, say something, but he bit down on your neck, hard, making you whimper. He sucked a bit, making sure to leave a little mark. He chuckled at your little moans the way you turned to a whinny mess in his arms. He dropped a kiss to your lips before stepping back.

He was about to turn and walk away but no. Now you were horny. And you wanted him. You grabbed his t-shirt making him stop. He looked down at your hands, eyes amused. You stepped closer to him, softly pushing him back against the counter. He let you, enjoying your little show of dominance.

You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing him shake his head a bit, stretching his neck. He loved it. Your eyes on him. You let your hands caress his chest up and down. Tip toeing you kissed him softly, teasingly. His hands rose to your hips, pulling you flush against him. You separated, only a few inches from his lips. You let the tip of your tongue lick his lips teasing him.

"Fuck…" he cursed.

You chuckled, stepping back and starting to walk away. He quickly shut that down, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. One hand on your lower back, the other lost in your hair, he kissed, tongues clashing. He groaned against you as you moaned to him.

This time you were the one backed against the counter. You wanted more. You could feel him, hard, against your stomach.

"Simon… please…" you whined.

"I love it when you're whinny like this." He provoked while you whined again against his lips. "Tell me what you want… use your words."

You bit your lip. You knew that if you wanted it, you had to say it. It was hard to understand why you currently felt like this. Like you were on fire. Like needing him right now was vital. You were wet already, from the little interaction.

"Please sir… fuck me.." you pleaded.

"Fuckin hell… bunny." He cursed again.

He kissed you once more before picking you up. He walked to the living room table putting you down next to it. Letting his hands roam your body made you feel like you were going insane. Yes. It really was odd. You had absolutely no patience for games. You reached for his belt unbuckling it. You heard him chuckle mockingly.

"Simon!" You whined, getting frustrated.

"Hey… hey." He frowned. "Look at me bunny."

You obeid, eyes pleading.

"What's wrong love… so impatient right now." He questionned.

"I… I don't know… but I need you so much… I feel like I'm burning…" you explained.

"Don't remember seeing you this needy, but by all means… I'm thrilled to help." He growled.

He spun you around, pushing you down on the table softly. A shiver ran down your spine. Your shorts and panties were quickly pulled down. His belt clicked again, this time as he pulled his cock out. His hand reached your folds, fingers coated in your juices.

"Fuck… baby, you're really wet for me." He groaned again.

He teased you, fingers grazing against your clit, making your hips buckle to meet his fingers. They traveled closer to your folds, slowly passing through, letting a finger slip in. You moaned, trying to push your hips back onto him. You knew he was pumping himself at the sight. You wiggled your hips taunting him.

He pulled his finger out, spanking your ass cheek as a punishment, making you yelp but giggle. He finally positioned himself at your entrance but didn't move.

"Darling. Are you sure? Not scared that someone could walk in?" He teased.

It hadn't even crossed your mind. You two were in the middle of the living room, fucking on the table, while all your friends were outside playing a board game. But your mind was screaming it. Your body ached for it.

"I'm going to let you decide Y/N." Your name made you shiver. His voice had such a power on you. "Whenever you want, you can lean back, and slip my cock inside you. I'll fuck you like you need it bunny. But you can stop too-"

You didn't wait for him to finish, your hazy mind lost. You let yourself fall back onto him, inching his hard cock inside.

"Ah fuck…"

You moaned at his curse. He was right, fuck it was amazing. You felt so full when your ass finally slammed against him. He immediately grabbed your hips, taking control. His pace was slow at first, taking enormous pleasure at torturing you. For your greatest pleasure, he quickly lost his own patience. His pace quickened, making the table shake.

You were trying really hard not to be too loud, but you weren't sure you were making a good job at it. He wrapped his arm over your stomach lifting you up. His palm rested on your lower stomach. Your feet had left the floor, but now it felt deeper, and he would hit that sweet little spot inside you. You felt overwhelmed. You wanted to cry.

Your orgasm built up so fast you couldn't see it coming.

"Simo.. si… gonna.." you tried.

"I know. Baby. Cum." He ordered.

You moaned loudly, trying to muffle it with your hands as you completely shattered around him. He refused to stop, pounding you, his other hand reaching for your sensitive bud.

"Si!" You whined loudly.

You felt your legs shake. You felt overstimulated, but your mind was a mush, and if he wanted to use right now, fuck you'd let him.

"Good girl… gonna give me another one..?" He asked against your ear.

You didn't know if you could, you felt the tears running down your cheeks. You wanted to. It burnt. You heard something, making you freeze.

"Hey. Hey. Focus on me." He ordered.

"But…si-"

"On my voice. Focus on my voice." He whispered against your ear. "Close your eyes. And focus on me."

You obeid, feeling him slow his pace, longer, deeper thrusts as he teased your clit softly.

"Good girl… such a good girl…" he praised, making you clench around him. "Fuck… you take me so well… you were made for me bunny." You cursed under your breath, you were really trying to keep it quiet but right now, it was overwhelming.

He was still lifting you up, but he pushed you higher on the table, letting you go. One arm remained around your waist, making sure to play with your clit, while the other reached for your jaw. His arm nestled between your breasts, his fingers teasing your lips. He was still slowly fucking you, making sure to pump himself almost out and then back in deep. You opened your mouth, two fingers slipping in.

"If you feel like it's too much… fuck… like you want to be loud… want to sing for me… suck on them."

You were slowly losing it. The pace, his hand around your jaws, fingers in your mouth, cock buried deep inside you, his voice… dripping honey to you.

"You feel so good… so tight. Will you cum for me again…?"

You sucked on his fingers, your hands wrapping around his wrist. You moaned, whined, whimpered, hoping he'd understand how much you needed it. You didn't need to say much. He knew it.

"Oh… fuuuck… Bunny. Do you want me to fill you up?"

Those words. It made your eyes roll back. The thought of it. Was it your hormones? What… who cared. You kept sucking and licking his fingers, drool falling down your chin, wetting his hand. You whined repeatedly, little 'please' 'beg you' 'cum inside me' falling like a curse from your lips. His hips slammed into your, meeting your begs and pleads. You felt your orgasm ready to crunch over you.

"Please… lieutenant…" you moaned, making him groan.

You could feel your peak right there, but held it back. Fuck you did everything to hold it back.

"Simon… fill me up…pleaaase…" you begged again, half teasing him, driving him insane and to his own edge.

His hand left your mouth, wrapping around your neck.

"Don't tease me Y/N." He warned.

"mmh yours…"

"Fuck.."

"I wannna be… filled up…"

"SHIIIIT."

"Make.. me… a mommy…"

You gasped as he made sure to fuck you roughly, the table rocking, whatever was on it falling to the ground. You gasped, your orgasm washing over you. His pace faltered as he spilled deep inside you. He remained deep, not moving for a little while.

Your mind was getting clearer and clearer. Your words were now echoing in your mind. You were panting. Simon's hands rested on either side of you, close to your head. You shifted slightly.

"Don't move."

His voice was dark..very. A chill ran down your spine. You could still feel him twitch inside you.

"Simon…"

He didn't answer. Your anxiety was starting to rise.

"Simon.. I'm.. I'm sorry… I don't know why I said that… sorry…" you didn't know exactly what to say. You didn't know what came over you. You had never talked about it. Children.

"Simon.." now you felt like you'd cry.

One of his hands rose, caressing your hair, your cheek. He dropped down kissing your cheek. You turned to him and he captured your lips into a deep kiss. You moaned again to him before he separated.

"It's alright… it's ok. We were lost in the moment. I'm not mad, I promise." He comforted you.

He straightened up, slowly slipping out of you. He grabbed the napkins on the table, just to make sure his cum wouldn't drip on the floor. You sighed, closing your eyes as you scolded yourself.

He made sure to clean you up, softly before dressing you up again. He turned you around, lifting you up to make you sit on the table. You were embarrassed to look at him. You bit your lip.

"Bunny. Look at me."

You closed your eyes, biting harder on your lip.

"Bunny. Eyes on me. Won't say it again."

You opened your eyes slowly, looking up at him. His thumb reached your lips, freeing it from the torture you were inflicting on it.

"I'm not mad… fuck. I reacted to it. You felt it."

You nodded a bit. Yes you did. He had lost it and gave you exactly what you needed.

"Just didn't expect that… I'm not going to pretend I don't… go insane at the thought of it."

You frowned a bit. Trying to understand.

"Breeding you." He let out.

You blinked before blushing heavily. It made him chuckle.

"But I think. We should talk about things beforehand." He finished.

You took a deep breath, steadying your heart and your voice.

"You're right. I don't know what came over me… think… I wanted to tease you, because I know you like it, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing Y/N. That was so fucking hot."

He captured your lips again, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Guys!"

You jumped, Simon's head snapping towards the sound.

"We talked about this! Not on the table!" Gaz scolded while Richard stood next to him, munching on chips and shaking his head.

God… if he knew. It was too late for that. And you felt Simon ready to drop the bomb but you cut him off.

"Sorry. We'll behave." You let out quickly.

"Yeah yeah sure. The girls are leaving, come say bye." He said before walking out with Richard.

You looked at Simon before laughing a bit. He joined you in your laugh, his forehead on yours.

"Come on. Let's say bye." You said pushing him away so you could jump down.

"Yeah. I'll drag you to my bed after. Teach you not to tease me."

It's been two days. Two days. You were sitting at the table, this time in the living room. You had been worried about Amy and Melissa but Kate had told you she received an email from Melissa asking for a few days off to take care of the child. It made you feel a bit better.

Now you sat, with Margo and Kate, the weather outside had turned to a pour down.

"I can't believe I said that…" you repeated, hiding your face, ashamed.

"Listen, it's ok. Sometimes it happens, you get wild during sex and some things slip out." Kate reassured.

"Yeah hormones, us women it happens, and it depends on the kinks." Margo added, munching on snacks.

"Yes… but I don't know. He's been a bit distant since then. It feels weird." You said honestly.

"And obviously, you haven't talked about it with him." Margo guessed.

"No.. I've been feeling embarrassed and… I'm a bit anxious that he's angry at me." You frowned.

Kate laughed a bit while Margo shook her head.

"Well if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see my child and my man." Margo said, standing up.

You decided to go to the kitchen too, letting Kate join the rest of the group. A little competition had started on the switch.

You were looking for something when Tyler came running to you.

"Y/N!"

"Oh, yes honey?" You asked.

"I need help!" He rushed.

You frowned but he grabbed your hand. You followed him, past the group and into the hallway. He walked you closer to a closet and stopped in front. It was the entrance closet where people would hang their coats.

"Can you hide in there please?"

"What?" You frowned.

"Please!" He added, jumping up and down.

"Alright, fine!" You answered with a little smile.

You walked into the closet, closing the door inside. You sighed, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall.

You heard voices and footsteps before the door swung open. You jumped. Simon frowned looking at you. Soap stood behind him, pushing him instead in a shove. Simon fell forward, bracing himself against the wall behind you to avoid crushing you.

The door was slammed before the key was heard.

"Johnny!" You yelled.

"We'll let you out when you're done having a talk!" He answered through the door.

Through the darkness you felt his body close to you, the heat contrasting with the coldness of the wall, making you shiver.

Your hands had found his chest, his face buried in your neck.

"Simon…" you called softly.

"Yes darling ?"

"Are you mad at me…?" You asked.

"What? No. What makes you think that?" His voice sounded slightly alarmed.

"You've been a bit cold…I… I don't know…"

He sighed. So you were right. He had been.

"I'm sorry love. It wasn't my intention. Really. I just been in my head." He started. "The whole thing made me think about my own father…"

"You don't have to say anything Simon. If you're not comfortable."

"It's alright. I will tell you. Maybe not right now but I will. The thing is… I'm scared I won't be a good father. So the whole question is complicated."

"It's alright… I don't even know myself if I want to have kids… we don't have to talk about it now." You tried.

"I'm not mad. I promise baby. I'm sorry I've been cold. It's not your fault."

You felt him wrap his arms around you, kissing your cheeks through the mask. You hugged him back, lifting his mask to kiss him. His tongue tasted so good to you. His body flushed against you, his hands traveling up and down your body. The little groan he'd let out as you bit his lip. You felt warm. Horny. You stepped back a bit.

"What's wrong darling?" He asked.

"I'm… sorry. I just felt this wave of… warm" you tried to explain.

"Warm? You're horny?"

You whined.

"Yes… I'm sorry… I don't know what's gotten into me lately."

He chuckled, pulling you back to him.

"Bunny, you don't have to apologize, you make me horny all the fucking time. You just have to ask. Really. I'll be more than happy to oblige…" he groaned.

His lips met your neck as you let your head fall back. Yes you wanted him again… you needed him.

"Simon… please…" you moaned.

"It's ok baby. Let me take care of you."

596 notes · View notes

xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

Note

baby!dick being a little shit and asking about getting siblings

"Hey B?" Dick asked, putting an almost disgusting amount of grape jelly on his toast.

"Hn?" Bruce was not awake yet. There was not enough coffee in his system for his eyes to even be completely open- not that he regretted the particularly late night.

"When are you gonna have more kids?"

Bruce choked on his coffee and coughed for a second, retreating behind a napkin. Grateful that the coughing would cover the burning he could feel in his cheeks.

"I'm not sure that's appropriate breakfast conversation, Master Richard," Alfred said, trying not to be too amused. He remembered Bruce asking a similar question once and Thomas having an almost identical reaction... he was sure somewhere Martha was enjoying herself immensely. And Thomas probably felt a sense of sympathy and vindication.

"What?" Dick said, "Y/N's not had anyone try to shoot her in like-" he broke off and seemed to be counting in his head, "3 months. And you're not getting any younger and-"

"Two months," you correct, making them all jump as you swoop down to kiss Dick's cheek and push the jelly out of reach before he managed to spill it on himself and need to change again before school.

"That last one didn't count," Dick snorted. "They were just trying to kidnap you for ransom."

"Guns were still involved-"

"Stupid really," Dick said rolling his eyes. "If they'd just knocked you out Bruce probably wouldn't have hit them so hard."

"Still. Not a good time," you say simply. "Also not your business."

"Rude."

"True though," you tell him, brushing unruly hair out of his eyes and handing him a napkin to wipe his hands and face that were now purple and sticky.

"Well said," Alfred said, suppressing a smile at Bruce still being too flustered to speak with difficulty. "Breakfast?" he asked.

"No time," you tell him apologetically. "Trial starts at 9am."

"Don't get shot!" Dick called as you swooped down to kiss Bruce's cheek.

"Please," Bruce added around coughs.

Dick looked at Bruce as your heels clacked down the hall, your travel cup off the sideboard in hand and huffed. "Rude."

"Eat your breakfast," Bruce said, retreating behind his paper.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #doting husband!bruce #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert

343 notes · View notes

fictionallystable · 6 months

Text

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Call of Duty (Video Games)

Relationship: Phillip Graves (Call of Duty)/Reader

Characters: Reader, Phillip Graves (Call of Duty), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: Author Has Played Call of Duty, Childhood Friends, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Civilian!Reader, Pre-Canon, Jealousy, Angst, Kissing, Mild Smut, Time Skips, Brother's Best Friend, Toxic Family Dynamics, Eventual Smut, Drama, Misunderstandings, Getting Together, Minor Age Gap

Words: 9,080| Chapters: 4/5

Authors: @orphancains & @collinnmckinley

Chapter 4: The Engagement Party

Chapter Summary: You're invited to Matty's engagement party and run into a familiar face—only for everything to seemingly fall apart.

A/N: agian we are extremely apologetic for the late update. life got hectic for both of us and hit us like a bus. and we were too exahsted from everything to even think about writing. but here we are!!! with a longer chapter to make it up to yall!! we really hope you enjoy this one c: only one chapter left to go ;) (likes and reblogs are appreciated <3)

the fic can also be found on AO3

tags will be updated!!

You felt nauseous at the thought of returning home for Matty’s engagement party. You’d been living out of town, happy with your job as an architect even if it meant you sometimes went months without seeing family. But you preferred it that way, with less judgment from your parents for choosing to postpone your own engagement yet again.

With your boyfriend Richard’s arm around your waist, you braced yourself for the booming cheers from your mother and father when they saw you. Immediately, they enveloped you in hugs and shook you with delight.

“[Y/N], oh, it’s so good to see you! We’ve missed you so much.”

“The drive must’ve been tiring, huh? How’s work been, Richard?”

“[Y/N], your figure looks great! And that skirt is gorgeous!”

Ah, yes. The skirt Richard picked out for me.

Your mother’s wrinkled, smiling eyes rubbed your back as you made your way to the living room for a drink, while Richard stayed in the hall with your father, enraptured in more dull small talk. The stiff smile you had kept carved on your face all this time suddenly melted into a real one when you saw Bear, your dog, laying on the ground.

You knelt down immediately to pet him, forgetting the drink your mom was getting you. You rubbed your hands through his long, brown fur as he wagged his tail back and forth. He panted excitedly, leaning up trying to lick your cheek. You laughed. “I’m glad you’re looking good, Bear,” you said to the dog. He had been staying comfortably with your mother for the past 6 months, enjoying her leftovers but far away from you. Every night, you wished you could cuddle up with the dog. But Richard insisted that no dogs be allowed in your apartment.

“ I can’t handle all the hair, especially with it sticking to my suits. And I doubt you’ll have the time to clean up after a German Shepherd’s furballs with your workload ,” you remembered he sourly sneered while he unpacked your boxes all those months ago.

“And Matty?” you asked your mom when she handed you a cup of soda and ice in a red plastic solo, while Bear rolled over on his back elatedly.

“He’s outside entertaining the guests with Elaine.” Your mom grinned. “Her parents seem to be very happy with our arrangement.”

You tried to smile, but a grimace cracked through instead. Ever since you graduated high school, your mother and father had insisted you get married quickly. Matty seemed to have no issue finding the right girl to propose to. You, on the other hand, well… you couldn’t see yourself with Richard. He was protective, he remembered your anniversaries, and he always made the time to take you on dates, to remember your favorite flowers, and always paraded you with pride at his own work parties. But the thought of saying “I do” to the man made your chest bubble with anxiety. And maybe even dread. Sometimes he was too protective, interrupted you too much, and sometimes took his sarcastic jokes too far to the point of cruelty. You were sensitive, ever since your adolescence. But… you could get used to it, right?

“Oh, that’s great news,” you muttered in reply to your mother.

Your mother leered at you from the corner of her eye. A mischievous but scrutinizing twinkle in her eyes. “Yes, it’s just a matter of time before you and Richard have your very own—”

“I should go say hi to Matty, yes?” You got up quickly and brushed the wrinkles from your skirt. “And of course, to my future sister-in-law…” you sputtered out as you scurried past your mother.

When you stepped out onto the back garden, you were hit once again with the warm, thick heat of the Texas night. You saw your brother from behind, with his arm around Elaine, whose long, pin-straight hung like a curtain from behind her, and a cold beer in his hand. You saw they were laughing while they chatted to an older man and woman you didn’t recognize, crinkled skin and silvery but pin-straight thin hair that Elaine had. From what you could guess, they must’ve been Elaine’s parents.

It was hard to hide your joy at seeing your brother. You sauntered up to your brother, wanting to catch up with him. Last time you’d seen him, he’d been arguing with your dad about the very idea of proposing to Elaine. He wanted to wait another couple of months, but your father insisted Elaine would start to get impatient and would find another husband, another arrangement. Your brother had stormed off that day, driven away in his car, uttering nothing more than a “Not now!” at you when you had asked if he was okay.

“Matty!” you called out to your brother from where you stood. Your smile couldn’t get any wider. Yes you spoke with your brother every week when work let you, but it's been a long while since you last saw your brother in person.

So when he heard your voice calling his name, he turned to see you standing there, at your parents backyard porch, waving to him excitedly, he couldn’t help but let out an airy laugh and immediately started to make his way to you. You did the same and both met in the middle as you scooped you in a hug lifting your feet off the ground. Oh how he missed his baby sister. Although all grown up.

Seeing how excitedly Matty basically ran towards you, it made Elaine chuckle and shake her head. She knew how strong the sibling bond you and your brother shared, and she found it extremely endearing and adorable in a way she can never experience, as she was the only child.

As Matty let you down on the ground again, Elaine made her way to greet you. When you saw her you couldn’t help but hug her too. You liked Elaine, she was like a sister you never had, and you couldn’t be happier for both of them.

“It’s so good to see you [Y/N]! We missed you so much” Elaine told you, her smile was bright and contagious. You couldn’t help but to mirror her excitement and feeling.

“It’s good to see you both too! I’m so sorry I couldn’t get earlier work got in the way, and we packed at the last minute-” you expressed how regretful you were about how late you arrived. You truly meant to arrive earlier, to help your brother and his wife-to-be with the arrangement of the party, but the universe had other plans for you.

Before you went on a tangent, Matty cut you off with his usual reassuring demeanor.

“Nonsense! You’re here and that's what matters.” Elaine nodded, as Matty’s hand came around her shoulder. They truly looked like a couple made for each other.

“Oh! Before you go or do anything, I gotta show you who’s here!” Matty said, his excitement meant trouble. For some reason you were worried.

“Oh there he is! Just the man I was looking for hah!” Matty was looking over your shoulder when he spoke.

As you turned around like any normal person would do to see who your brother was talking about, the air was knocked out of you immediately as your eyes landed on him.

“Phil…” you sputtered out, quiet enough for it to be a whisper.

Phillip Graves stood a few feet away from you, far enough to reach in a couple of steps. And that's what he did when your brother called him over. The Phillip Graves was standing in front of you now, except now he was older. His hair was still the light brown, almost blonde hair that had as a teen. His tan skin now was littered with a few scars, on accenting his cheek bone. You remembered he was tall, always athletic, as a kid from playing varsity football and soccer. But now, he had filled out muscles under his burgundy t-shirt and light-wash jeans. And he still towered over you just enough that you had to peer up to meet his blue eyes.

With a surprised, almost confused smile, he repeated your name back to you.

“Phillip... Phil…” you breathed out, still in disbelief. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Of course he’s gonna be here, silly! He’s my best friend, I couldn’t have a wedding without him being my best man can I?” you’re brother jokes. Before you could say anything to him, you heard a distant voice calling his name. He answers “coming!”, but not before bidding you both to have a good time and catch up.

He knows how much Phil meant to you, and he knows for sure for the past fifteen years how much you tried to forget him.

You watched as your brother and his fiancee in his arms went to tend to the other guests, before turning to Phillip, who’s smile grew into one of his beaming ones that you’d grown familiar with as a teen. “Hopefully seeing me ain’t a bad surprise.” He winks at you teasingly before smiling softly. He gestured to the plastic, white porch table nearby. “D’ya wanna sit?”

Tentatively, you took a seat across from him at the table. He looked around, almost looking bored, as he took a drink of his own beer bottle. But you knew Phil. He wasn’t disinterested. You could tell from the way he was bouncing his left leg in slight nervousness.

“So, how have you been [Y/N]? I heard you became a big shot architect in Seattle! Not gonna lie, I thought that you’d become a famous artist with her own exhibit all across the country.” Phillip genuinely sounded happy and surprised, leaning back in his chair, hands intertwining on his torso. A habit he picked up during his time away from home in the Marine Corps.

You smiled at him. He recognized that as the one your mother trained you to show new people. It only got sweeter—and prettier—as you grew older, he thought. It suited you even as you were no longer a little girl and now a beautiful, grown woman. Graves’ heart strings tugged, and for a split second, and only for that tiny moment, he was taken off guard.

“Yeah.” You paused but only for a second. “Things turned out differently. But I can't complain.” That sweet smile still plastered on your face. Phil couldn’t believe it, how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve grown. How beautiful you’ve become-

“Things… didn’t end well the last time we saw each other.” He was lost in thought again but your voice brought him back.

“Or rather didn’t see.” You murmured.

He knitted his brows in confusion. “I’m not following.”

Annoyance began to stir inside you. You huffed and looked away.

He nearly stammered his words. “From what I last remember; we had a blast at your birthday party, Matty gave you a puppy, the one that he’d been planning months to get for you. And I—”

“And you left.” Your eyes, returning to him and now darker with hurt, pierced straight into his eyes, and your silky voice cut him like a sharp knife. “Practically the next day.” “Without saying a single word to me about your enlistment that day.” A sad, but bitter, smile adorned your face, eyes cast downward. As the memories of that day continued to unfurl for you, a dormant resentment continued to bubble in the depths of your viscera.

“You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Matty properly let alone me.” Your voice was softer now, but he could still see the hurt behind your eyes. “Much less to my parents who—”

“Listen, [Y/N], I didn’t—” He clenched his jaw and dragged his chair closer, hoping to keep his voice low. He felt embarrassed to be having this conversation with you in the first place in your parents’ backyard. And he especially didn’t want Matty to know you were talking about this with him. Still, he felt he owed you an explanation. “I didn’t want to scare you….” he stops and looks at you, in his eyes an emotion you have never seen before swims, you can't decipher it, but it somehow looks familiar. “Or hurt you for that matter.”

He shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest. He scoffed, just barely audible to you. “But be realistic for a moment. What did you expect me to say to you? ‘Hey, kiddo, I’m off to join the Marine Corps. Might die or get a limb or two blown off. Make sure you do your homework and don’t stay up too late playing video games with Matty! Bye!”

Phil couldn’t help being defensive of his actions that summer, a bit too defensive even to his liking. He sighs and continues with a bit of a calmer voice. Phil knew that his answer wasn’t half-assed, but he still knew they could be biting. Although he didn’t want to reopen old wounds, he also didn’t want to lie to you. Especially not now that you were no longer a child, and not just Matty’s kid sister. “I did what I thought was right, for you… and me. And I wouldn’t change it if I had to do it again. That’s the truth.”

You blinked. You couldn’t help but hear something alien in his voice, a tone so unfamiliar in your memories of him as kids. Was it sorrow? Remorse? Pain? You couldn’t figure it out. But you know it was something not to be pushed any further. As a kid you never understood why he did what he did, but as you grew older, somehow you knew that as a child everyone’s decisions were outside your range of understanding. You had accepted what happened. Or at least you thought you did. But today that young girl returned, took back control your body and mind, and you found yourself spluttering these words to Phil.

Sitting with his own answers, you sat in silence. You watched as he leaned back and eyed you carefully. His eyes were still the same baby blue ones that always gazed at you with brotherly affection all those years, the ones that sparkled when the Texan summer sun’s rays cast on them. But now you felt a hardness radiating from behind them, one that would make anyone else cower and feel smaller. Years in military combat had definitely changed him and his gaze. Indeed, you did feel like he was studying every inch of your face and body, scanning you as if trying to profile you, maybe like he did with the captured combatants in whatever war in which he fought. You tried your hardest to return the intensity of his stare, but it was hard to compete with the icy look in his eyes.

But behind his colder eyes was a burning curiosity that he was successful in concealing from you. It was a curiosity he didn’t expect to experience tonight, because he never expected to see you, Matty’s beloved little sister, again. In all his memories, some more faded and fuzzier than others, you remained a little girl whose clothes were stained with paint and fingers sometimes still smudged from soft pastels or even charcoal from your art. In his mind, you still had baby cheeks and wore Matty’s old hand-me-down clothes and hoodies. But before him, he never expected Matty’s little sister, now a woman, to be sitting before him. He almost wanted to curse himself for immediately noticing when you walked to the table how your curves fit the skirt you wore. And when you sat across from him, he caught himself glancing more than once at your chest when your arms folded just beneath it.

He clenched his jaw. God, if Matty even caught the places his eyes were traveling when he saw you, he was sure he was going to get his ass kicked and his face pounded in by Matty’s notorious fist. Grown up or not, you were still his sister. And this was also still Matty’s engagement party, and he couldn’t ruin it. And you were clearly still torn up about his sudden, unannounced enlistment all those years ago. This was not the place or time to be thinking of… other things.

What disrupted his curious gaze from roaming over you was a sole tear that began to trickle down the corner of your eye. Just one, and one that you quickly wiped away with your hand before it could ruin much of your makeup. But it was enough to know that, once again, Phil had made you upset. He internally wanted to bang a fist against the table. He was hoping you would lash out at him, he would let you burn off some of the steam that you couldn’t when you were both kids, he knew how much you controlled your rage, and he wished you would finally let it out even if it was on him. Let you both make fools of yourselves that night, so he could feel less remorse. But instead, the silence from you that he was me with was damning him more than he could expect.

When you refused to say anything, Phil anxiously whirled the cold glass bottle in his hands. “But, I was also an idiot,” Phil spat out suddenly.

Your furrowed brows softened, noticing how Phil’s eyes melted into what you couldn’t intercept at first. But you soon realized it was a miserable mixture of hurt and regret. “I just wanted to get away from my folks, you know. Even though they were hardly ever home, I still felt like they controlled every aspect of my life. So…” He breathed out. “So, I’m sorry.”

“I get that,” was all you said as you mindlessly twirled the bracelet around your wrist. As you did so, his eyes glanced down at your hand on the table, the same ones that were always covered in stubborn faded blue and yellow hues of paint. He swallowed when he noticed that, unlike Matty whom he’d spoken to earlier, you had no ring on your left hand. Before you could notice, Phil quickly glanced back up at your face, and was relieved to see that your harsh scowl from before had melted away. “I just wish you could’ve told me that then. But I… I get that I was too young. We were both pretty stubborn when it came to talking about anything serious, but we cared—”

Before you could finish, you heard a booming voice call out your name. You turned and saw Richard beckoning you to where he stood, while your parents stood to the side and grinned giddily together. Suddenly the whole party had grown strangely quiet. Beside the ice cooler, you noticed a bluetooth speaker playing a familiar soft rock song. One that you distinctly remember as the one Richard played in the car after your first date together at the theme park, and the same one you two danced to in his old apartment when you both were tipsy one night.

You got up from your seat. Next to you Phil also suddenly wondered why so many eyes were on you and this unfamiliar man. You started walking toward him and your parents, wondering what in the world was happening, and why your boyfriend was standing in the middle of the backyard like he was about to give a speech. Oh no, I've seen this scenario happening in public one too many times. This does not look good…. Your internal monologue was put in a pause when you looked around to find your brother, and when your eyes landed on his and his fiance, you knew with one look they did not seem pleased of what was going on.

“[Y/N],” he started. “We’ve only known each other for a few months…”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Matty muttered from a few feet away from where Phil sat.

Phil blinked a couple of times. His gut was telling him he knew exactly what was going on, but he himself couldn’t believe it. Not after he just reunited with Y/N a few minutes earlier.

Elaine tried to calm Matty down silently, but Matty was furious. “I specifically told them not to pull this shit, not on this occasion. Jesus fucking Christ.” Elaine didn’t need to hear him say it, but she knew who he was referring to when he said ‘they’.

Richard continued. “But you’ve made me a better man, a man with bigger, better ambitions, a man who can see himself becoming a family man. Beyond just a businessman, a partner, a rock to lean on, someone who could build a home with you and raise a family together.”

When he got down on one knee, you felt your heart stop and all the muscles in your body seize. You tightened your jaw, dormant rage igniting all over again. You didn’t know if you wanted to run away and flee the scene or smash Richard’s head with the beer bottle from a nearby table, but you felt as though your shoes were glued to the dry grass. “Y/N,” he said as he took a ring out of his jacket pocket.

You looked up frantically and saw your mother on the verge of happy tears and your father with a proud grin but his hands tucked in his suit jacket’s pockets, much like when he is negotiating a business deal at work. You knew immediately that this was not simply Richard’s doing. No, you had told Richard as recently as last night at bedtime that you would rather wait at least when you hit 30 before even considering marriage. This was your parents handing you off to Richard, hoping and desperately trying to have their wealth merge with Richard’s own family wealth. Just like you feared in every conversation you had with your mom and dad, you feared you represented nothing more than a simple pawn in another one of your dad’s business deals.

You glanced back down at Richard, the sour sneer on your face growing harder and harder for you to conceal. You could feel your hands trembling now by your side, and the cup of soda in your hand threatening to get crushed.

“Will you do me the honor of letting me call you my wife?”

You heard murmurs and all around you from the backyard. The night’s spotlight was now on you, no longer on Matty and Elaine, and that made you grind your teeth even more. You didn’t want extra attention. It was bad enough that suddenly your childhood crush crashed the party and made you relive your teenage hormones and heartbreak. Richard and your parents both knew how uncomfortable you felt coming back home, and suddenly they decided to make you have to answer a marriage proposal in front of all your relatives, friends, and neighbors.

You glared down at Richard, who was oblivious to the storm raging in your mind. “You’re out of your fucking mind,” you spat out, with a low and harsh voice, but still loud enough for everyone to hear. You whipped your head up furiously to glare directly at your mom and dad. “And you two! You two are unbelievable. You should be ashamed of yourselves!” Your throat ached from how harshly you growled at them.

Without another word, not even a “no” to dignify Richard’s proposal, you threw your cup of soda at Richard’s face. The half-melted ice-cubes and cold Sprite made him flinch and get back up to his feet quickly. A chorus of gasps erupted from behind and around you.

“You spoiled brat!” your mother shrieked. The disdain and disappointment on her face was one so familiar, but one that still brought your heart racing anxiously and your lips to quiver. Your father stood frozen in shock beside her. He himself didn’t expect you to react in such a way. He thought tonight would be another business success for him. “Do you know how much we had sacrificed for you? And you decide to act like a child? When will you grow up?l!”

“THIS IS INSANE!”

Your eyes snapped to the source of outburst and landed on Matty standing near where Phil and you had been sitting. Phil remained at his seat watching all of this unfold with amusement, as Matty was walking towards where your parents had been standing, with determination of giving an earful to them most likely, but before he could start what he had to say your voice decided to come out on its own accord.

“Oh mother… How can you still be so stubborn about this? How could you pull this stunt at Matty’s engagement party, your own son's engagement party? Do you have no shame? Either of you?” Your voice determined and harsh. Even your mother was taken aback by your bold retort. Her speechlessness only allowed you to continue your tirade. “I told you at least a hundred times that I don’t have any plans to get married anytime soon. But you didn’t listen! That doesn’t surprise me; you hardly ever listen to me. But at least have some respect for your own goddamn son! Who has been nothing but an obedient child to you! Both of you! And this is how you treat him?! The least that you could have done was ask him and Elaine if this was okay with them!”

Your mother was stunned, the blood having drained from her face and her hand clutching her handbag tightly as she gawked at you. You’ve never been this brave with your words. You never talked back to either of your parents in all your youth. And if your father wasn’t just as speechless, he would’ve given you an earful, and even threatened you to remove you from inheritance. But you didn’t care, your patience ran thinner and thinner each year and this new stunt made all that remained evaporate in a matter of seconds.

You knew you couldn’t come back from this. The realization that there was a chance you’ll probably be shunned and even maybe disowned after this. You had run out of words, so you simply ran from the scene. Your spilled red cup of coke laid on the grass, something the ants in the yard would later indulge in. You bolted into your family’s house, your childhood home, which was mainly empty with everyone mingling in the evening out in the yard. You went into your room on instinct, but noticed your mom and dad had converted it into an office space for their work. Your jaw dropped as you realized they never kept your room the same way they had adoringly preserved Matty’s. You tightened your grip around the door knob. You wanted nothing more than to trash the room, break the desk that sat where your bed once did, and stomp on bookshelves that once held your comics and artbooks but now held folders of boring white paperwork.

But instead you fled to your brother’s room across the hall. You knelt down beside his bed, kicked off your shoes, and buried your face in a pillow. You let out a muffled scream. After a few seconds, your scream morphed into pathetic sobs. You knew you were surely staining Matty’s old pillows with your makeup, but you didn’t care at that moment. At that moment, it felt as though you time-traveled back fifteen years in your old home, crying your eyes out into your beloved brother’s pillow.

‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

Phil watched as Matty slouched on the plastic lounging chair outside. Almost everyone had left. Your mother and father stood near the backyard fence, arguing desperately about what to do next after you had ruined their evening. Richard stood next to them but remained mostly silent and merely listened to them. Elaine, Matty’s fiancée, trudged into the house in search of you. Meanwhile, Phil took a seat across from Matty, who ran his hands through his beard and squeezed his eyes shut momentarily out of frustration.

“Cannot believe they would fucking do that on tonight of all nights,” Matty groaned out.

Phil let out a low whistle. “Yeah definitely didn’t expect to see [Y/N] throw a cup of soda at some random guy.” It would almost be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that he had seen tears once again streaming down your face when you darted inside. “So, that was actually [Y/N]’s boyfriend or—”

“Unfortunately,” Matty spat out. “I can’t stand the guy. But our parents love Richard even though he’s a huge asshole to her half the time.”

“Huh…”

Phil tried to recall the man. He was tall and athletic. He seemed like the type to weight lift, worry about trends in luxury suits, and track his meals’ calories to keep up with his appearance and health everyday. His dark hair was slicked back with some gel, and his jaw was sharp and pronounced. His sharp, aquiline facial features reminded Phil of some of the college guys who would apply for internships to work for his dad’s firm during summers back when he was a kid. But something about him made Phil’s skin crawl. He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that his entire personality seemed like a masquerade of wealth and opulence, or the fact that he was dating you , had the gall to propose to you , while also being an asshole to you, according to Matty at least.

“I can’t say I blame her for throwing the soda at him,” Phil snickered quietly.

Matty almost cracked a smile at this. Suddenly, he remembered why he called Phil his best friend for so many years of his life. “Trust me, if I could’ve thrown one too, I would’ve.”

Your father suddenly bellowed your name. “Come out! We need to have a talk!”

Phil and Matty quickly glanced at each other, worry coating both of their faces. They expected Elaine and you to come out together, Elaine probably holding a box of tissues and your eyes still swollen from crying. But instead, no one came out of the backyard door. They waited several seconds, until your father stormed toward the door to head inside himself. Richard trailed behind him, not nearly as full of energy. It seemed the would-be fiancé was still feeling dejected, even if the soda from early had already dried.

“Unbelievable,” your father growled, the door of the house slamming open violently with a bang.

Phil and Matty both got up quickly, following the man. They found you and Elaine sitting in the kitchen, you nursing a cup of warm tea and Elaine sitting next to you still attempting to console you. Your father rushed toward you, grabbing you by your shoulders, forcing your gaze away from your cup of tea and to his own red-beet face. The force of his grasp made your elbow knock into the mug, tumbling it to the ground with a sharp crash.

Elaine gasped sharply before stepping back in shock. Meanwhile, Bear emerged from the living room, his bushy tail stiff in the air in alert and his pointed ears slicked back against his head. He growled and barked furiously at the sight of your father grabbing you. Agape, you stared back at your father in horror, feeling all the muscles in your body suddenly become paralyzed in fear.

“How can you throw away your future just because of your own stubborn self-righteousness?! Didn’t we raise you better than to act so selfishly?!” your father yelled into your face.

Matty quickly grabbed your father’s arm, grabbing him by his gray blazer’s stiff fabric, and pulled him off of you. “Your dumb plan for the night was botched from the start, dad,” he sneered out. “She clearly doesn’t want to marry Richard and this was supposed to be our engagement party to begin with!” he looked at Elaine for a second saying that.

The graying wisps of hair on your fathers were now disheveled and sticking up, his sagging and wrinkled face now flushed with a furious red. He balled his fists as he spoke back to your brother. “What she did, regardless of what day it was, to Richard was unacceptable. Would you ever imagine Elaine treating you in such a way? No, of course not! Because [Y/N] is acting like a child, and an insolent one at that!”

He turned back to glare at you, taking one step further forward. “Richard, come here,” he said, his glower locked on you not wavering.

The tall, dark-haired man strode beside your father. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. You had wounded your ego and in public in front of your friends and family, something he would seldomly allow without biting back. But he remained quiet ever since his botched proposal. Usually he would yell back, make a scene, demand he stay in a hotel for the night, after arguing with you over nonsense. But his silent, narrow-eyed stare bore down on you and made you feel uneasy. There was nothing calm or passive about it.

“So, why don’t we start over, hm? Why don’t the two of you go to the living room to discuss and… reconsider Richard’s proposal once again, yes?” Your father’s gritted teeth betrayed the false air of diplomacy he was trying to prop up.

“I don’t think—” Your brother was caught off.

“[Y/N],” your father said more sternly this time. “Now.”

Your brother wanted to continue to protest, but he knew your father would not take no for an answer right now. Not with his fists balled up and his face as red as it was. So Matty, Phil, and Elaine watched breathlessly as you and Richard walked to the living room by yourselves. Phil noticed how your hands shook ever so slightly, even while you kept your lips pursed and tried to straighten your blouse, desperately clinging onto any semblance of composure before talking to your boyfriend.

Breathing out an exasperated sigh, your father, the man Phil used to revere so much as a child, began to step outside back to the yard. “There better still be some drinks in the cooler. I need one right now,” he muttered. Your mother followed him, obediently, to avoid the thick air of tension that was suffocating everyone in the kitchen.

Phil couldn’t help but let curiosity get the best of him. While Elaine consoled Matty in hushed voices and picked up the broken glass on the kitchen tile, Phil drifted away from them. He could hear Elaine telling Matty that it was okay, that they could hold a smaller, more intimate engagement party next week with just close friends. He knew that he, too, should be trying to console Phil. But he was worried about you. He just couldn’t believe your family was pressuring you to marry.

Phil stood just outside the living room beside its entrance, leaning on his side against the wall and focusing on the little he could hear. Bear padded up to Phil. Much calmer now, the German Shepherd sat down and looked up at Phil with a panting smile. Phil wanted to smile and pet the dog, but instead brought his finger up to his own lips, hoping the dog wouldn’t alert everyone to what Phil was doing.

“—how embarrassed I was left feeling! In front of everybody!” It sounded to Phil like Richard was still furious, still left with his pride injured. He was on the verge of yelling, but kept his voice somewhat hushed. Maybe to avoid drawing even more humiliation to himself tonight.

Your voice was less hushed, a little bolder. “We’ve barely been dating long enough to begin even thinking about marriage, Richard! I told you I wanted to wait!”

Phil carefully peeked into the room just enough to see that the two of you were standing and you had refused to sit on the couch. Richard towered over you, clearly trying to intimidate you. You were trapped between him and the untouched couch. You nervously ran your hand through your hair as Richard continued roughly gripping one of your shoulders with one of his hands. The sight of his hands on you like that made Phil’s skin crawl and stomach lurch. He tried his best to control himself.

“[Y/N],” Richard began again, clearly still annoyed. “You already made a scene with the first proposal. But I’m not giving up on you . And so is your father—”

You scoffed at this and rolled your eyes.

“So, please. Just stop being so stupid and stubborn for a second, and just say yes so we can both move on ”

You stayed quiet. And Phil’s mind was racing in the midst of your silence. Was it possible you were actually considering it? He remembered you when you were younger, as a kid. You were stubborn, yes, and very outspoken. It’s what stopped any kids from picking on you or your art. But you also never betrayed your own goals, your own ideas and feelings, for the sake of someone else’s preferences. Even if that meant getting into ugly fights with others and giving your mom and dad the silent treatment for weeks. It was one of many qualities in you that Phil remembered admiring, and he hoped that it was a quality that had never diminished during these last fifteen years.

Phil didn’t want to admit it, but he also felt sick to the thought of you getting engaged just when he had finally reunited with you. He felt a nauseating feeling in his gut at the idea of you marrying this, clearly, arrogant guy. Phillip Graves himself was arrogant at times—sassy even, but when it came to the people he cared about, he was never arrogant. When it came to you, he could never be arrogant.

Finally, you did answer. “I already said my thoughts on the subject, Richard,” you said firmly. At that moment, you hoped Richard and your father would respect your wishes more than anything. Once again, you felt like nothing more than a pawn. “I already said no to you once. And now I’m saying it twice. Do I have to say it a third time?”

“Well, neither of us are getting any younger, [Y/N]. If you’re as serious about this relationship as I am, then you should at least be considering marriage with me. If not, then what’s the goddamn point of this? Of any of this with you?” He placed both his hands now on your shoulders, shaking you just a little. “What do you even want out of this?”

Your face seemed almost serene. You didn’t frown, nor did you nervously smile or even produce a grimace. You placed your hands on his that were squeezing your shoulders, gently sliding them off of you and placing them back to his sides. “After tonight, Richard. I can’t give you a straight answer. I don’t know. After this scene you tried to pull despite everything I told you, I can’t say I see a future with you anymore.”

Richard leaned away, almost repulsed by your answer. He scoffed in disbelief, shaking his head furiously. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you breaking up with me? ”

Phil would’ve started laughing if he didn’t give away the fact he was spying on you and Richard. But he also wanted to beam with pride at seeing you stand up for yourself despite Richard and your dad not ceasing in urging you two to get married. He was glad to see that you never lost your fiery side as you’ve grown.

“I guess that’s what it is,” you mustered out. “If you can’t stay in a relationship with me without getting married immediately just to make our parents happy, then maybe we just shouldn’t be in a relationship.”

Any shock was replaced with fury. Richard began seething. “You can’t be so goddamn dumb, [Y/N],” he growled out. “Why are you throwing all of this away? We could’ve had a future together, a built home, a nice family. And you’re throwing it all away just because you wanted to make a point about waiting ?!”

You scoffed. “A nice home where you’re calling me an idiot for sticking to my values. Yeah, sure.” You tried to step beside him to walk away, to finally leave this conversation behind and head back to the family that cares about you.

But instead Richard grabbed you by your forearm, whipping you back toward him and forcing you to face him again. His eyes were now no longer narrow with disdain but wide and dilated with rage. It was a look you only saw on rare occasions, mostly when you had screaming matches after you would “ruin the mood” when he’d try to have sex with you, drunk out of his mind, after one of his work parties.

“Let me go,” you muttered, your annoyance desperately trying to mask any fear that could be detected in your voice.

Suddenly, Richard grabbed your face with a hand, squeezing your jaw and cheeks as he did. He forced you to look at him, even while you desperately tried to pull his hand off you, scratching his forearms and trying to push him away. Phil’s heart began racing and he could feel the blood coursing through his body grow hotter. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but all he could focus on was how the solemn look in your eyes was now replaced with one of terror and shining with wet tears beginning to form.

Richard’s fury continued. “I never thought you could be this stupid. Do you even realize what you’re doing to your—”

Phil had enough. He rushed into the room and in what felt like a flash he pushed Richard away from you. You fell onto the couch, watching in horror as Richard tried to fight back against Phil. Sure, Richard was strong and big. But Phil’s hand-to-hand combat had been refined over the years in the Marine Corps. With little struggle, he managed to subdue him, and within seconds, Richard was pinned to the ground. Phil was successful in knocking the air out of Richard, leaving the man breathless and writhing on the floor.

“What the fuck ! Get off me!! ” Richard growled through gritted teeth.

Phil smirked for a split second before ignoring him. He let Richard crumble to the ground before he went over and tentatively kneeled in front of Y/N. He saw once again furious tears pooling in your eyes threatening to fall . He placed a gentle hand on her knee and gazed up at her. “You okay [Y/N] ? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

You shook your head, your own hand traveling to your jaw where Richard had roughly grabbed you. “No, I’m fine.”

He nodded in understanding, still looking at you carefully. While he watched you, he felt Matty and Elaine rush into the room, confusion written on their faces. They saw your small form still sitting on the couch with Phil crouching in front of you while Richard was still getting up from the ground, catching his breath.

“Th-thanks, Phil,” you said quietly. “I… didn’t know he was gonna lash out like that.”

“ He what ?!” Matty demanded. “Richard, what the hell did you do to my sister?!”

Richard was now back on his feet, he breathed out deeply and glared at Matty. Then he straightened his shirt and painted on his usual smug look of contempt he carried. “I broke up with her. If she’s not taking this relationship seriously, then neither will I.”

“What a load of bullshit,” Matty practically spat the words in Richard's face before grabbing him by his collar. Elaine watched in horror too, scurrying away to the side. Matty dragged him out of the room until both you and Phil lost sight of the two of them. Knowing Matty and his long-lasting hatred for Richard, you were sure he was kicking him out of your parents’ home.

“Dad is going to be furious,” you mumbled to yourself, but Phil could hear you loud and clear.

He took a seat next to you on the couch, deciding not to touch you further. He had to remind himself that you were no longer a 12 year old girl, he had to restrain himself from holding you . Yes, you two were very close when both of you were mere teens . But it had been years since you last spoke. Fifteen years to be exact, he didn’t know if you ever counted the days but he did, for some reason that even he couldn’t explain it to himself. He couldn’t overstep his boundaries. So he just pulled his hands back to his lap and sat there, trying to console you as best as he could.

“He’s not always like that… but when he is it gets too much ” you breathed out. Phil tried to listen but he was also acutely aware of how your hand, albeit sweaty from your nerves, felt on his much rougher, larger one. “Matty never liked him. But mom and dad adored him for some reason.”

Phil sighed out. He wished he could say something comforting, something that would chase all your anxieties and fears away. But all he could do was sit there and listen to nothing and everything all at once . Feeling your heat radiate from your side, and he sits besides you only a hair of a touch away. He could lean in and hold you close, and the thought made his heart flutter with nervousness. From here, he could smell how your hair smelled like roses and coconuts—

Before he could drift further away he had to snap back to reality with you still sitting next to him solemnly. How could he think that about you? You were his best friend’s sister for goodness sake… but was he in the wrong to think of you as the pretty woman that you have become? Yes he considered you as a little sister back in the day, but that was a decade and half ago. But now? His heart told him one thing but his brain said something else.

You always carried your emotions on your sleeves. If you were happy, your face would be brighter than the sun. But then if sad, a cloud would particularly be looming over your head. When you were flustered, your face would be brighter than the fresh tomato that his parents would have the cooks pick up from the farmers market And if you were angry, oh man that was something to witness. That was why he always loved teasing you and making you laugh, to get that reaction and to see those emotions. He admired them. But in your grown-up state, he noticed that trait in you lessened. It was as if you were trained to wear a mask that would hide all your emotions. Even now, watching you sit there waiting for the unknown, you try to mask your emotions, hide them in a box and lock it. And discard the keys somewhere where no one can find it. And it hurt Phill to see you in this state. He couldn’t decide which one was worse; having you go through the trauma of facing your now abusive ex boyfriend, or that you were forced to masquerade your emotions.

“I knew the guy for like half an hour, but… yeah, I can say he seems like a dick.” He pursed his lips, but raised his eyebrows when he heard and felt you start to chuckle. “Pun intended” Phil smirked as he looked at you.

“He reminds me of a guy I met back when I first joined MARSOC,” Phil continued. You tore your teary eyes away from your hands and looked at him, listening intently. “He was big and burly too, but he actually was much more considerate. Hated bullies. Always lending the rest of us a hand if he could see we were struggling.”

You held back a snort. You couldn’t imagine Richard enduring something like Marines training, much less being generous and looking out for others if his skin was on the line. But as a child so many years back, you also couldn’t imagine Phil joining an elite fighting team. Not because he couldn’t work in a team, but because you only saw him as your brother’s best friend who just seemed to play football and video games—not shoot guns and hunt down dangerous men. So, you asked him more. While your mother was off trying to calm your father down, and your brother was getting fresh air to cool down with Elaine, the two of you stayed on the couch. While he did, Bear padded over to both of you, laying down at your feet and surely feeling sleepy already. Phil finally had a chance to reminisce out loud on some of his training days and some missions with the MARSOC Raiders—at least the parts of them he was allowed to tell others about. He even remarked how he had left the Raiders, now working with others to form a new PMC, hence why he was back in Texas.

While you sat listening and while your tears dried, you couldn’t help but feel admiration bloom inside your chest for him. Admiration and… something familiar you still couldn’t put your finger on. Yes, you were thrilled to have him back in your life, someone you might’ve called your best friend as a young girl. You felt some nostalgia, of course. You felt like you were truly back home for the first time, even after visiting home a few times already after moving in with Richard. Still, while he spoke and you listened intently, you couldn’t help but admire how his lips moved when he smirked as he remembered something cheeky he did, or how his brows furrowed tightly and his jaw clenched when a difficult memory flashed for him. Or how he’d sometimes run his hand across the side of his head, his light brown hair getting disheveled for just a few moments without his knowing. It made you smile for a few seconds before returning your focus to his words. But even while you concentrated on him and his stories, you couldn’t ignore the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and the way your palms sweat when you noticed him gazing at you several times.

For a moment, it felt good to disconnect from your world, from the drama and yelling of your parents and Richard. Delving into Phil’s past several years away from your hometown felt like finding an oasis in a harsh, unforgiving desert. Your racing heart that you felt when Richard had glowered down at you in furious disbelief moments ago had diminished, now a comforting lull in your chest as you listened to Phil’s familiar voice. But it was short-lived, and it made you realize, yes, this was just one night, when your parents both walked in.

Your father’s face was less red, but the tired look in his eyes made you know that he was still disappointed. “Your mother and I are heading to bed.” He pursed his lips into a thin line when he looked at you. He had so much he wanted to say to you, so much he wanted to yell too. But your mother next to him nudged him with her elbow and cleared her throat. He shook himself out of his death stare and instead looked at the man beside you. “It was, uh… good to see you, Phillip. Please give your father my regards when you see him. It’s been a while since we’ve emailed each other.”

Phil nodded curtly but said nothing in response. Next to you, he could feel how tense you still were. He didn’t want this conversation to drag on any longer. Without another word, your parents left the living room, finally retiring to their bedroom up upstairs. But replacing your parents’ spot in the living room’s entrance came Matty and Elaine.

Elaine yawned. “How are y’all not tired yet?”

“We’re going to be heading to the guest room in a bit. But by all means, let me know if you need anything. Just knock on our door or give me a call. I’m here.” Matty gave you a reassuring smile.

Phil glanced down at his watch—you remember it as the same rolex that his dad had given him for his sixteenth birthday and that Phil only begrudgingly accepted.

“Jesus, time sure flies. It’s already one in the morning.” He huffed, feigning sleepiness, and looked at you with pursed lips. He placed an earnest hand over his chest. “I’m sorry to have kept you awake so long, [Y/N].”

You shook your head frantically. “No, don’t apologize, Phil. Catching up on what you’ve been up to has meant the world to me.”

Hit with sudden realization, Phil widened his eyes slightly. “[Y/N], do you need a place to sleep tonight?” The thought of you returning to your hotel room with your furious ex-boyfriend made his chest tighten.

You shook your head. “No, I’ll just be sleeping in Matty’s room for the rest of my stay. So I'll be hanging around here for a while.” You honestly weren’t in a rush to return to Seattle immediately, just to have to see Richard glowering at you from every corner of his apartment. He was going to have to find a new roommate quickly.

Your brother wrapped his arm warmly around Elaine, bringing her sleepy body closer to him comfortingly. “See you two around,” he said before turning around and heading up the same stairs your parents had climbed earlier.

Phil got up from the couch, and you followed. You straightened your skirt as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepishly. “Really, I mean it. I hope I didn’t bore the hell out of you, [Y/N].”

The two of you began to walk to the front door, Phil pulling out his car keys from his pockets. “No, Phil. I’m being honest. Just getting to sit and hear you speak for a while has really helped me. I’m—I feel a lot better now. Thanks to you.” You watched as he opened the door but then you realized he also is technically only visiting town. “Wait. Do-do you have a place to stay?”

He paused. He shut the door that he had left slightly ajar before, as he turned to look at you. “Oh, yeah I’m staying back at my parents’ place. They rent out the first floor as an AirBnB sometimes, especially since they mostly spend time with my uncle in St. Augustine in Florida. But they’re letting me stay on the second floor now that I’m back home for a while as I work things out.” He smiled warmly. He couldn’t help but find it endearing how you worried where he was staying as well.

You let out a soft sigh. “Good.” You were relieved to hear not only that he wasn’t staying in some sketchy motel but that it was back in his childhood home, where you and him had spent so much time watching TV and pranking Matty on your weekends off of school.

He leans in slightly. “That’s right,” he said in a low voice. “If you wanna come by tomorrow, we can hang out. I’ll even cook you something.” He smirked.

You felt your heart leap and your face heat up furiously. You prayed that he couldn’t tell how flustered you felt. You tried to play it off smoothly. You tried to suppress the huge grin from growing on your lips and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Phil nodded and turned the doorknob again, getting ready to head out. “You better, or I’ll come by and snatch you myself.”

Your heart did backflips again at this. The image of eating dinner with him flashed in your mind, and you felt like your brain was short-circuiting. But you had to say something back, you had to answer without melting down. You desperately kept your composure but let out an airy laugh, one you hoped didn’t give away your nerves. “Goodnight, Phil. I’ll see you later.”

You followed him, stepping outside to your front porch as you watched him heading back to his black sedan parked by the side of the house. You couldn’t help but watch him as he walked with the same confident strides from when he was your childhood crush, his keys jangling in his hands.

As he pressed his car key’s FOB and and his car beeped, unlocking, he turned and glanced at you. He felt breathless as he saw as your hair blew in the cool nighttime breeze. But he didn’t want to give away how he, too, was gazing at you for too long. “Go inside, [Y/N],” he laughed. “You’re gonna catch a cold like that.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Just making sure you’re gonna head out safely, Phil,” you called back, feigning annoyance. He shook his head and chuckled as he stepped into his car, headlights turning on and engine rumbling.

You turned around and headed back inside, closing the front door but quickly scampering to the window to look through the blinds until you saw his car disappear down the road.

Even after chatting with him all night, you still couldn’t believe Phil Graves had somehow returned to your life.

#cod x reader #phillip graves x reader #cod fanfic #phillip graves fanfic #phillip graves x you #phil graves x you #phil graves x reader #graves x reader #Authors Has Played Call of Duty

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guess-my-next-obsession · 1 year

Text

Peña’s Anatomy: Chapter Eighteen

pairing: surgeon au!javier peña x resident!reader (Lucky)

rating: E (18+ only, talks of pregnancy/not wanting a child, oral (m rec), just so much fluff, brief mention of sex/oral (fem rec), an AAHHHHHHH CUTE ending)

wc: 3.5k

series masterlist | javier peña masterlist

“First shift back at the hospital and I’m scheduled on fucking Christmas Eve,” Mickey sighed as she sat down at the nurses station in the ICU, her stomach now very swollen along with every other part of her normally lithe frame. You stood at the counter in front of her, scribbling notes from your patient who just got set up in their recovery room after an intensive hip replacement.

“Right here with ya,” you said, your attention fixed on the chart. “Is Richard here at least?”

“No,” she groaned, lifting her feet to rest on the empty desk chair beside her as she popped open a bag of chips. “He’s in Michigan with his parents.”

Your eyes lifted to meet hers, a look of disdain on your face at the mention of her consistently shitty fiancé.

“It’s not too late to leave his ass,” you said flatly.

“Honestly,” she sighed, shaking her head. “As we get closer to our due date, I’m starting to wonder if he’s even going to show up for us. He’s been so…selfish lately.”

“Lately?” you chuckled, closing the chart and setting it on the shelf. “He’s always been selfish. He missed your surgery, he missed Thanksgiving, now he’s missing Christmas. It’s not a big leap to assume he’s going to miss your delivery. But you know who won’t?”

“You,” she said, smiling at you.

“Exactly,” you smiled back. “And if he misses out on raising your kid, I’ll be there to take his place.”

“With Javi in tow,” she chuckled.

“Eh, I don’t want him getting any ideas. He’s had a case of baby fever ever since we went to Laredo to visit his family and see his cousin’s new baby.”

“You’re still not into the idea of having a little Javi running around?” she asked, shoveling a few chips into her mouth.

“Not really,” you shrugged. “I just don’t want to be pregnant. The thought of it just…creeps me out. But maybe adoption? Or fostering?”

“Javi seems like the type to want one of his own.”

“Well he can go off and make one if he wants, just not with me. This body will not be carrying any children.”

“Oop, heads up,” she tipped her head towards the elevator down the hall, Javi and Steve emerging with smiles on their faces.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dressed up?” you asked with a smirk as he made his way over to you, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Last week, the Chief approached the attendings asking for a volunteer to dress up as Santa for the kids stuck in the Pediatric Unit for Christmas, Javi being practically forced to take on the job after his colleagues refused.

“I’m not going around until tonight,” he said, leaning his elbow onto the counter beside you. “You gonna be my little helper?”

“I thought that was my job,” Steve joked, earning a laugh from you.

“No thanks,” Javi said, sticking his tongue out in playful disgust.

“Javi, do you think I should leave Rich?” Mickey asked with a mouth full of food.

“Has that not been obvious to you this entire time?” Javi chuckled. “He’s the worst.”

“They’re havin’ a baby,” Steve reasoned, earning a scoff from you.

“Please, this isn’t the 1950’s. A woman is fully capable of raising a child without a man. Especially a man like Dick Mann.”

“Dick Mann,” Javi chuckled to himself. “What a guy.”

“Javi-your Peñ-is,” you countered, a proud smirk on your face as he tilted his head at you and gave you a flattened, unimpressed look. “Fake a laugh, it’s Christmas.”

“Eve,” he corrected. “Tomorrow I’ll laugh at all your bad jokes.”

“Alright, I’m goin’ home to my wife and kid while y’all stay here makin’ dick jokes.” Steve smiled. “Lucky, page me if you need me.”

“Will do,” you said, turning your eyes to Javi who stood impossibly close to your side, his eyes watching with the kind of focus a predator had when stalking his prey, making you chuckle. “What?”

“On call room?” he whispered into your ear.

“Javi,” you giggled, feeling your cheeks heat. “Aren’t we too mature for that now?”

“No,” he replied, sounding almost insulted. “Come on. It’s Christmas.”

“Eve, remember?” You raised an eyebrow at him as you backed away from the counter before turning to head down the hall towards the elevator, Javi following you like a puppy.

“Where are you going?” he asked, catching up to you with ease thanks to his longer legs. “To the on call room hopefully?”

“To the cafeteria,” you smirked. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m hungry too thanks to that fucking red lipstick you have on.”

“I’m being festive,” you laughed.

“You’re being a tease,” he countered as you reached the elevator, his body coming to stand between you and the metal doors, his eyes locked on your lips. “Come on, baby. Let’s celebrate the holiday.”

“The Lord’s day, you mean?”

“You’re an atheist,” he smiled.

“Not today,” you laughed. “Today I’m a saint.”

“I seem to remember you and I doing some sinning just this morning,” he raised an eyebrow, turning around as he heard the elevator ding.

“What’s in it for me?” you asked in a purr as the two of you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.

“Orgasms,” he said dryly. “A couple of them.”

“Fine, but can we please eat first? I really am hungry,” you pouted your lip out to him, enjoying the shake of his head as he stared at you with dark, impatient eyes.

“You’re killing me.” Javi lifted his hand to fit along the line of your jaw and neck as he leaned in to kiss you unhurriedly, taking his time with his lips moving against yours, the tip of his tongue swiping against yours to tease you before he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. “How fast can you eat?”

You and Javi kept a watchful eye out as you made your way from the cafeteria, through the surgical department’s lobby, and into the hallway where the resident on call rooms were. Thankfully, given that it was a holiday, most of the nosier personnel had gone home, leaving the two of you to fulfill your sinful, and admittedly unprofessional, desires in peace.

Javi swung the door open to one of the white, clinical dorms with a giddy smile as he guided you in with his hand on the swell of your ass, locking the door behind him.

“Can you believe how long it’s been since we first—“

Javi silenced your nostalgia with a deep, hungry kiss, backing you towards the bed with one hand on your hip and the other splayed out over your jaw. You moaned into it, returning his passion and need tenfold as your hands slid down his chest to the button of his slacks. Javi panted against your lips as he pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, both sets of eyes trained on your hands as they unzipped him and pulled his stiff, angry length out.

“Fuck,” he moaned in a whisper, bringing his lips to your jaw and nipping you there before moving down to your pulse as you swiped your thumb over the precum dribbling from his tip.

“Can I taste you?” you asked, as if you didn’t already know the answer.

“Never have to ask,” he husked, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone before lifting his head and stepping away from you to shed himself from the confines of his dress shirt and slacks before laying flat on the bottom bunk, his thighs spread slightly to give you room to lay between them.

You could feel yourself salivating at the way his cock laid so heavy and thick across the soft, barely there swell of his stomach, his strong thighs and broad chest only adding fuel to the fire burning inside of you. Stripping out of your scrubs, you let them pool on the floor before crawling between his thighs on the tiny twin-sized mattress, your fist wrapping around the base of him to give him an experimental tug. Javi groaned, just loud enough for you to hear, and bucked his hips up towards your teasing smile, the red on your lips now smudged.

“Come on, baby,” he urged, a smile of his own finding its way onto his face. “Taste me.”

“What if I want to tease you?” you purred, stroking your fist up slowly, swiping your thumb over his frenulum just to feel his cock twitch, and then gliding your hand back down to his base.

“I gotta be Santa in thirty minutes,” he reminded, biting his lip as you repeated your teasing strokes. “Please, baby.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” you smirked, lowering your lips to his thick head, kissing it before wrapping them around his girth. Javi sighed in relief, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he regained his composure and opened them to watch you slowly take just his head in and out.

“Fuck, feels so good,” he praised, one hand gripping the cheap sheets while the other cradled your jaw, gently urging you to go deeper. “Those fucking lips…always teasing me.”

You smiled, pulling off of him to lick a stripe up the underside of his length, relishing in the deep, rumbling groan you pulled from him and the contrasting tenderness in the touch of his thumb as it stroked over your cheek.

Taking him in again, you worked yourself down his impressive length until you were kissing your fist wrapped around him. Your mouth and hand worked together, sucking and squeezing him up and down, over and over, until you could feel him start to swell and throb on your tongue.

“Baby, fuck,” he moaned as he warned, “You gotta stop or else I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth,” you purred, lifting off of him to stroke him with your fist, the slick squelch of your skin against him filling the room. Javi’s eyes closed as you continued to work him, bringing your lips back onto him to help him reach the finish line.

“Shit, fuck,” he swore, keeping his voice to a whisper, though it looked like it was taking everything in him to not shout out his praise. “Baby, fuck. I’m—god. Fuck, I’m cumming.”

You moaned as you swallowed down everything he had to give you, even going as far as licking up whatever spilled out off his cock and thighs before sucking each of your fingers clean. Javi looked wrecked at the sight, his hands resting on both sides of your face to tug you up to meet him for a sloppy kiss, neither of you caring much about the messiness of it.

“Lay down, it’s your turn,” he husked after finally coming back to earth.

“We don’t have enough time,” you said, kissing his cheek before standing up. “You can repay me when we’re home in a few hours.”

“Baby,” he pouted with round, begging eyes.

“I promise you’ll get the chance to repay me later,” you assured, bending down to kiss his lips. “You need to get cleaned up if you’re going to be Santa.”

“We’re fucking at my dad’s house tonight, I don’t care,” he said, grunting as he stood up and walked over to the tiny en-suite. “That was so fucking hot, bebita.”

You grinned, coming up behind him and hugging his back.

“You’re telling me if this whole surgery thing doesn’t work out, I have a fallback plan?” you joked, kissing his shoulder before heading back into the room to grab both of your clothes off the floor.

“No, that’s a talent of yours you’re only allowed to show me,” he smiled, his freshly clean hands taking his clothes from your hands as he stepped out of the way to let you wash up. “You gonna help me out? Be my Mrs. Claus?”

“Yeah, I’ll help you. Are you gonna be carrying a sack of gifts?”

“Yeah, the Chief has the whole fucking costume in his office,” he chuckled. “Even got one you can wear.”

“Do I have to?” you laughed, drying your hands off before tugging your scrubs back on.

“I’d very much enjoy it if you did,” he grinned, his eyes taking over your freshly re-clothed form.

“Well since it’s Christmas,” you grinned back. “Can we take them home with us?”

“Fuck, I hope so.”

After a thorough brushing of your teeth and squeezing yourself into the ridiculous red velvet dress that Javi handed you, you were out of the locker room and pouting your way over to Javi who stood in the hall waiting in his full Santa garb, a white beard and all.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Javi bellowed dramatically, earning a laugh from you as you stood in front of him tugging at the furry white hem of your dress. “Have you been a good girl this year?”

“Shut up,” you laughed again, swatting the pillow he’d stuffed into his red coat to give himself a belly. “You know I haven’t.”

“I’ll make an exception for you,” he winked. “Since I talked you into most of it.”

“Does Santa get to be naughty? Who makes sure you’re being nice, huh?” you purred, fixing his hat.

“You do a good job of keeping me in check,” he said, his eyes traveling down your frame. “But I think you like me better when I’m a little naughty.”

“How many Christmas jokes are we gonna make?” you giggled, reaching for the velvet sack of toys on the ground beside him.

“Don’t grab my sack,” Javi playfully scolded, earning an eye roll. “But seriously, it’s fucking heavy.”

“Well, Santa, you can grab your own sack, then.”

After a handful more of Javi’s sack jokes, the two of you, along with Mickey wearing an elf hat, found yourselves in the children’s surgical unit, slowly making your rounds visiting each room and allowing the kids to pick out a toy of their choice.

You couldn’t deny that the sight of Javi being so playful and sweet with the kids made you imagine him with a child of his own, but it didn’t make you feel any different about not wanting to carry a baby of your own. Javi understood and respected this, though you knew a part of him secretly hoped you’d change your mind down the road, but there was simply no part of pregnancy or birth that appealed to you yet.

“Alright,” Javi sighed, plopping down in one of the chairs at the empty nurses station. “Let’s take these stupid costumes off and head home?”

“I thought we were bringing them home?” you smirked.

“I’m so sweaty in this shit right now, I think this thing should be burned,” he chuckled and stood up, pecking your temple. “I’m gonna go change, meet you in the lobby?”

“I’ll be right down, Mr. Claus.”

After getting home from your shifts at midnight on Christmas, a thorough fucking from Javi, in which he insisted he go down on you for a solid hour, and a good six hours of sleep, the two of you were up and running around the house gathering everything you needed for the night you were going to be spending in Laredo. Javi had just finished packing up the last of the gifts into the trunk of your car when he came in and spotted you posing McCartney by the Christmas tree, a polaroid camera pressed to your eye.

“Smile,” you chimed to the dog, swearing that he actually did it.

“Let me take one of the two of you,” Javi spoke from over your shoulder, his hands resting on your hips.

You smiled and whispered an okay before going over to sit with McCartney in front of the tree, it’s brightly colored lights and ornaments you and Javi bought together for the first year ever making you feel warm and happy in the kind of way that you hadn’t experienced since you were a little girl.

“Alright, on the count of three,” Javi said, holding the camera up to his eye with one hand while the other fumbled around in his pocket for something. “One…two…”

As you went to smile for the camera, Javi pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket and snapped a picture of your smile turning into shock, your jaw dropping.

“Marry me?” Javi asked, dropping to one knee and setting the camera aside to open the box, the glimmer of the lights of the tree behind you shining on the ring.

“Oh my god,” you chuckled through the tears that gathered in your eyes, your hand lifting to your mouth in shock. Javi started to get choked up too as you crawled over to meet him, the two of you kneeling on the floor together.

“I love the shit out of you,” he said your name. “You’ve made me a better man, even when I wasn’t sure it was possible. Just knowing you has changed me to my core for the better. I can’t imagine not waking up to you every morning, not chasing you around the hospital, not going to bed beside you with this ball of fur at our fucking feet every night. You are my best friend and the love of my life. I’m sorry it took so fucking long to do this, but…will you marry me and make me the ‘lucky’ one?”

Your tears were now freely flowing down your cheeks, something between a laugh and a sob ripping from your chest as you nodded at him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him harder than you ever had before.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll marry you,” you giggled as you pulled back to look into his tear-soaked eyes. “How long have you been planning this?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a chuckle, his hand shaking as he lifted the ring out of the box and slipped it onto your finger. “Just seeing you in here telling the dog to smile for the camera…I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“It’s beautiful, Javi,” you cooed, eyes locked on the emerald cut diamond on your finger that looked like it cost more than your car. “The diamond is huge.”

“Well, after Dick Mann stole my idea, I figured I had to go big or go home,” he chuckled, watching you carefully to gauge your reaction. “If I went overboard, we can—“

“No.” You shook your head and lifted your eyes to meet his, a cheesy grin spreading across your face. “It’s so perfect I’m going to cry every time I look at it.”

“Yeah?” he beamed, his nerves seeming to calm at the sight of your wide smile and eager nod.

“Yeah. I love it, and I love you,” you croaked, a new batch of tears filling your eyes. “Can I see the picture you took?”

Javi reached for the now-developed polaroid, holding it up so that both of you could look at it, laughter filling the room at the sight of your look of pure shock.

“This is going with us to your dad’s,” you said, standing up to tuck the picture in your purse.

“He might cry,” Javi laughed, standing up. “I don’t think he ever thought the day would come.”

“You didn’t tell him you were gonna propose?”

“No,” Javi shook his head as he unplugged the lights on the tree before joining you and McCartney in the entryway. “He’s bad with secrets, he would’ve just told you.”

“Well, it’s going to be a very teary Christmas for the three of us, I think,” you smiled, looking down at your ring while Javi placed McCartney’s leash around his neck and did a double check for anything he might’ve forgotten. “I can’t believe we’re getting married. Who would’ve thought?”

“Definitely not us,” Javi laughed. “My dad said he knew from the minute he first met you.”

“Your dad didn’t like me then,” you said.

“No, but he knew I loved you. Even before I did.”

You poked your lip out and slipped your hands around his waist, hugging him close, your head nestling against his chest. McCartney joined in on the love, jumping up to rest his paws on both of your hips as Javi hugged you back, kissing the crown of your head.

“I love you, Lucky. More than anything.”

“I love you, Javi. More than everything.”

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