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astralnymphh · 8 months

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kneeling for her ⋆ | ellie williams headcanons

༺ ellie x fem!reader sucking her strap hcs/scenario! ༻ ☽𖤐☾

(ellie image from kittaeria on pinterest)

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: had the most random scenario blossom in my head yesterday so i wrote it per usual, went a lil more risqué with this one 😜at least to my standards

cw/tags: NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! ellies a lil goofy in the beginning, blunt/straightforward-ish reader, not a fully wrote out fic, small time skips, sitting on lap, cursing, takes place in jackson but not specified to be before seattle (readers choice) soft-dom leaning ellie (except maybe less soft in one instance, nothing rough tho), guiding you verbally and with hands, praises, petnames; (good girl, baby, slut) sucking/choking on strap, clit stim (giving) strap-vag insertion, flatiron position, rewarding, gripping head/hair, deepthroating.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

setting the scene

༻⛧one dusty orange sunset, cooped up in ellie's makeshift 'garage house' relishing a simple meal she whipped up for the both of you, albeit can you really classify her attempts at the art of culinary as five-star cuisine? regardless, the two of you slumped into the gray sofas' sufficient padding and dined like kings; in apocalyptic standards. no conversation had been rustling the space between you until a rather, interesting, unordinary, dare say- scandalous? scenario had implanted its peculiar self into your thoughts.

"hey babe?" you quell the silence, tone arching in curiosity.

"mhm?" ellie garbled through shut lips, chowing down her food.

"you know.. we should- try something new-"

"ooh~ like what?" she instantaneously hunches her back closer to you and tosses her barren plate aside, avid to hear your words go from mind to mouth. she invariably dotes on your ideas.

"uh- it's like.. related to.. bed stuff."

"like sleepin- wait! can we pleaaasee build a display shelf for my comic books above my bed-"

"ellie."

"sorry." ellie, even being an adult, is still crazy about her long-kept hobbies.

"uh- anyways. I'm talking 'bout like.. sex." you impenitently tell.

her eyelids dim, sloping her head to the side in adorned interest, "sex? that's one way to ask."

"no ..seriously, I have an idea.." you stow the plate atop a stubby heap of books, conveying a genuineness in your stare.

ellie sails her tongue briskly through her lips, anchoring her torso back onto the sofas' arm, lengthening her legs out with a faint bend at the knees. her palm drops to her thigh, patting it twice.

"c'm over here." she coaxes sweetly with an alluring gaze, imbued with a pip of power in her vowels.

a suffuse of blush overlies your midface, crawling your body towards her beckon.

her hands steady your hips down on her lap, finding refuge on the back of your thighs thereupon settling.

"what's the idea, then?" the moods' been shifted, emanating one of sensuality.

you nestle near her headspace, whispering, "y'know ur' strap?"

"yeah.." ellie likes where this is leading, clearly by her rapt smirk and tune of chords rising in tempt.

"what if I sucked it?"

⛧ oh boy, that set off a night she wouldn't be forgetting for the inbound days ahead. immediately you found yourself levitating up from the couch by her arms and bouncing on the mattress. a makeout session leads to fated stripping and now, your kneeling in front of her at groin-level and a hunter green mass protruding towards your nose bridge.

her optics glare down at you, the sight of you so keen and willing to do this. sure, it's not the real thing but the sight should and will be fucking exhilarating.

"c'mon, what're you staring at?" ellie's hand gently smacks your cheek and splinters your blurry-minded trance.

you deduct a reply from your mouth, instead, taking a solid grasp of the strap and wrapping your lips round' the tip, all while preserving unwavering eye contact.

"shit.."

her hands ease and twine the locks on each margin of your head, massaging the pads of her fingertips tenderly. her arousals' climbing new peaks every second at this rate. she presses her pelvis further upon your lip, steering you to open up.

your lips part and welcome the rotund tip in, stroking along your front teeth. the weak grasp on your head pushes the strap languidly to a greater extent that bounds it to the back wall of your throat.

"ach-" you jab out a cough.

"good girl, take that shit in.."

⛧she's one to be in control, but it's nothing rough. her hands guiding you back n forth gently as the strap summons spurts of tickles in your throat each time it prods the back of it. it'd be far enough to chafe the hilt against her clit, per usual any time she wears the contraption, so you'd always hear quaint whimpers, curses, groans, etcetera, from above.

"mhh~ fuuhhhhckkkk.." ellie draws out a long euphoric groan, straining her neck back and exposing the mild protrusion of her adam's apple.

catching up with the motion, you begin bobbing your head on your own accord. her hands dull their hold and hover above, letting you work your utter sorcery, mouth wide open and drooling for her.

her head recoils down, "such a slut- oohh~ fuck.."

⛧again, she's not rough without consent and a special occasion, but she'll clutch your hair firmly enough. to you, it's like her non-verbal sign that says 'go faster'.

thrusting your head faster, her own moans begin to burgeon and crowd the room over your sucking and popping noises. she looks so fucking hot from your angle, a clement sweat, fucked out face, leaning slightly back so her pelvis projects closer to you, a solo hand supporting on the back of her thigh, the other latched onto the apex of your head and knotting strands of hair around her fingers. it's all getting to you.

"oh- baby, fuck- keep goin'n.. uhn- shit!" the climax augmenting within her hips jitters the shit out of her knees, begging to just buckle underneath her and collapse on the bed.

"gh- hn.." your words fumble around ellie's cock, still putting your all into pleasing her. adding a grip on the strap and stroking it was endgame for her, the adjoined knocking against her swelling bud ruined her.

⛧ellie's definitely more of a groaner and a huffer when she comes, it's not growling level but it's certainly not fake exaggerated ones.

⛧i think she's also the type who'd want you to come as well, like, there is not a single night where she's the only one getting pleased, she has to see you unravel and lose your shit under her.

"stop, baby- stop.." ellie hastily hushes through heaves of breath, pulling your head from the strap to which it springs off your lips.

"huh..?"

"m'not cummin' without you- fuck.." her fingers take a grapple at your jaw, guiding you up onto your feet.

you give her a blank stare until it's washed away with a surprised one as you're cast onto the bed, stomach down, ass up. she shambles over you and flattens you out till your hips settle in the cloudy mattress.

she mounts your thighs and inclines her crotch to yours, slowly inserting into your cunt from the back. her nails chisel into your plush hips, thumbs notably indenting on your ass.

"oh-my gmm.. ellie.."

"god damn-" she mumbles to herself, cuffing out a quick chuckle, "you earned this.." positively rewarding you for your work.

insert a loooong night spent railing.

⛧random conclusion hc but I feel like in this position where she's behind you she'll litter you with kisses and bites on your shoulder-neck region, especially for being so good and disposed for her.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

MASTERLIST

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strangerstilinski · 9 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; stiles lets it slip that he hasn't had his first kiss yet and, as his friend, you're more than happy to remedy that.

warnings; no use of y/n, fluff, established friendship, some pretty intense kissing, one instance of reader being referred to as a girl

word count; +3.5k

a/n; no smut here, but i am currently planning a couple nsfw pieces to work on between bouts of writing my ongoing (long suffering) stiles fic.

please think about leaving a comment/reblogging if you enjoy! it would actually mean the world to me

“-And it was just.. So wet. Way, way too much spit, y’know? And there was entirely too much tongue on his part considering the fact that his hands, like, never even left his pockets-”

You’re not entirely sure how, nor at what point, the conversation devolved into a mostly one-sided and incredibly detailed analysis of Mark Hagan’s kissing technique, or lack thereof, but by the time your eyes fall to the boy sitting in the driver’s seat, you realize that you’ve been rambling for at least a full minute in the patchy darkness of the parked car.

“-And I’m not saying I wanted to be groped or anything but, I mean, it’s a little awkward when a guy just-”

You falter suddenly, when you notice the awkward slump in Stiles’ posture, and your words taper out without warning. He has one hand white-knuckled on the steering wheel and the other gripped tightly on the back of the seat where he’d turned to face you when he first asked how your date had gone the night before. And- God. That had been minutes ago, now.

“Sorry,” You apologize immediately with a grimace, “Was that, like, way too much information? Sorry.”

“No, I, uh,” He releases the steering wheel and shakes out his hand as if only just realizing how tight his grip had truly been. Your eyes are embarrassingly distracted by the long line of his fingers as he continues, “I guess I just didn’t realize how many things you could do wrong, y’know? I assumed it’d be more straight forward than that. You lean in, press your lips together, kiss, done. Right?”

You laugh softly at his rushed response, “I mean, I guess. I’d like to think there’s a little more skill that goes into it than that.”

“And, uh, Mark..” Stiles has been seemingly overwhelmed with reasons to dislike the other boy since you’d announced your upcoming date the week before, and he nearly spits the name with disdain when he says it now. “No skill, huh? Not quite, uh.. Not up to your standards?” He’s fiddling with the straw from his long-finished milkshake as he speaks, eyes downcast and determinedly focussed on his fingers, “Considering the overabundance of tongue, the lack of groping, and the, uh.. All-around wetness-?”

Another small huff of laugher escapes you as you drop your own empty cup into the greasy paper bag the diner had stuffed your to-go order into a half hour before, your socked feet returning to the Jeep’s dashboard only a moment later.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You fight back a cringe at the mere memory of the drool that coated Mark’s chin when you’d finally decided you’d had enough and pulled away.

“What about you?”

His question catches you off guard and your brows furrow as you meet his gaze, “What about me?”

He twists and folds the straw of his drink with more vigor, nose crinkling before he elaborates, “What would you say your, uh.. Your skill level.. is?”

You pitch forward to grab one of the few remaining curly fries from the container perched by your feet on the dash, falling back into your seat and munching slowly as you genuinely ponder the question.

“I think I’m probably alright,” You shrug after a moment, “I mean, it’s hard to say, right? But I’ve never had any complaints. And considering Lydia is, like, the queen of complaining-”

You’re caught off guard by the entirely inhuman squawk of disbelief and surprise that escapes him. He’s scrambling in his seat with no real purpose before he slowly comes back to a standstill, now sitting just a few inches closer to the passenger side than he was before.

“Lydia? You.. You and Lydia have-?”

You shrug again as you wipe your greasy fingertips on the leg of your jeans, “Yeah, like, twice. Maybe three times?”

“Three-?”

“What about you?” You interrupt.

You tip your head against the backrest to look at him in the dim light of the parking lot as you await his response. The Jeep is barely getting hit with the residual light from the windows of the diner, but the bright neon sign on the roof of the building casts a pretty red hue over Stiles’ face. His mole-dotted skin is flushed with it, the only bits safe from the red-tinted glow are the shadows beneath his brows and the tiny divot in the tip of his nose that extends up from his cupid’s bow. You want to trace the darkness on his skin with the tip of your finger — with your lips.

You find yourself getting lost in just how gorgeous he is, not for the first time.

“Huh?” Stiles asks dumbly.

“Skill level,” You elaborate with a grin, lifting one foot from the dash to poke your toes into his knee, “What about you? Are the girls positively swooning? Melting under your touch? ‘Oh, Stiles. You’re the best kisser on this side of the Rockies-’”

Your teasing is silenced when his hand comes out to cover your mouth, long fingers trapping the words beneath your lips. Your knee is squished awkwardly between you, but he’s so warm you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your own, and the scent of his body wash fills your nose now rather than the lingering smell of grease from your shared dinner. You can hardly focus on his words as the smell of teakwood and pine invades your senses.

“No one in their right mind would ever say something like that after being kissed,” He tells you, face pinched in a cringe, “Like, not even something remotely along those lines. Not even in those weird old-timey romance movies you make me w-”

You grab ahold of his fingers to pull his palm from your lips with a small giggle, “Oh, c’mon, the suspense is killing me! Are you a good kisser or not?” Your mind is reeling a bit as you think about it. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss Stiles, to feel his lips on your own, his hands on you. “I feel like you probably are. Just the right about of enthusiasm but you’re also a total perfectionist so it’d-”

“I don’t know!”

His exclamation is entirely too loud for the confined space of the car, his voice ricocheting sharply off the metal shell of the vehicle and causing you both to flinch a little. Stiles looks as if he wishes he could stuff the words back into his mouth and try again. You’re simply looking him over with a more critical eye, searching for the reason for his recent outburst as if it might be written plainly on his face, like you might find big emboldened letters of explanation etched across his skin.

“What’d’you mean you don’t know?” You scoff in amusement, “Y’know what? Fine-” You shuffle closer as an idea pops into your head — a brilliant, glorious, heaven-sent idea. His fingertips are still trapped within the palm of your hand and your knee slips over the top of his thigh as you slide closer and move into the center seat, “C’mere. I’ll give you review-”

Your face edges closer and closer to his own until your noses bump and the delicate touch seems to zap Stiles into alertness, sending him jolting back as if he’s been electrocuted.

The sourness that erupts in your belly at his reaction isn’t wholly unexpected, but a small flicker of shame joins it and burns like acid in your chest.

“Well, shit..” You murmur with an awkward chuckle.

It’s difficult to bite back the nagging feeling of embarrassment that swirls through your veins in response to being shot down by your best friend — your best friend that you’ve desperately been wanting to kiss since middle school.

You swallow harshly before continuing with a self-deprecating laugh, “I didn’t realize the thought of kissing me was quite so.. Horrifying. My bad.. I.. I’m sorry. You don’t- I didn’t think and I just- Sorry.” The last bit comes out quieter, the sound of it buried beneath the sudden tightness in your throat.

You find yourself avoiding his eyes, but that only means that your gaze is drawn to the smooth expanse of his neck — and there’s that glow from the diner’s neon sign again. His skin is cast in that red hue, smooth expanses of scarlet broken up by the speckles of dark moles and beauty marks scattered here, there, everywhere. You can almost make out his jumping pulse beneath the hollow of his throat, the dark crimson shadow twitching nearly imperceptibly with each too-quick beat of his heart.

They’re all spots that you’ve only dreamt of having your lips touch.

On rainy days when he shakes his hair out like a dog with the sole purpose of hearing the way you squeal in surprise, the drops of water finding their way down his temple and filling you with the urge to kiss it away.

When you slip into daydreams from the desk behind him during class, your eyes stuck on the exposed curve of his shoulder where his shirt collar is stretched just a little too loose, your lips tingling with the all-too vivid phantom feeling of his skin beneath them.

Trapped in his embrace, his height just enough that your face is smushed into his collarbones, nose crushed against him and pulling in the woodsy scent of his cologne, your mouth pressed limply to the soft cotton over his chest but aching with the desire to pucker and leave behind a gentle peck.

“No! No, it’s not that!” Stiles denies immediately. He’s already reaching out to drag you closer again, hands curling into your waist the moment you attempt to slip backwards into a bubble of shame in the passenger seat. “Kissing you would be the opposite of horrifying! It would be, like, a dream come true or- Or-”

Your eyebrows creep up your forehead at that, the barely there curve of a nervous smile pulling at the corners of your lips as his words seem to tumble out faster, growing increasingly difficult to understand as he rambles in a way that you’re all-too familiar with.

“-Because if I was going to kiss anyone, I’d want it to be you, but if I do kiss you and I’m horrible at it and you’re, like, repulsed-”

You’re still trying to piece things together despite the jumbled bits you seem to have missed. Your lips part in astonishment and his fingers tighten where they’ve begun to anxiously dig into your hips as he continues.

“-What if I’m worse than Mark? What if.. What if I’m so bad that you kiss me once and then you never, ever want to kiss me again because I was so unbelievably-”

“Stiles!”

You cut him off, already scooting closer until your left thigh is practically in his lap. His words cut off, a sharp inhale tearing past his lips as your hands find his shoulders, your thumb dragging over the freckled skin of his neck. You can feel his pulse jumping wildly against the pad of your finger as you finally voice your question.

“Are you telling me you’ve never kissed anyone before?” You ask the question as delicately as you can manage, but he still winces as an embarrassed flush colors his cheeks further.

“Not.. Not technically.” He admits quietly, big brown eyes still tinted beneath the crimson glow from outside the Jeep.

“Not technically?” You repeat slowly.

“I don’t know why I thought saying it like that would make it sound better,” He says weakly, “It didn’t. It was still just as mortifying. And so, so lame.”

Your heart flutters, cracks, and then ticks up in quick succession as your flooded with a wide array of conflicting emotions. You can’t quite believe what it is you’re hearing.

“You haven’t had your first kiss?” The words come out a bit more heartbroken than you intended.

Stiles looks horrified at the bluntness of your statement for a moment before he’s swallowing harshly, eyes dropping from your own for a fleeting second.

“No,” He says in a quiet voice, nearly a whisper as his eyes flick back up to yours, “But, um, if- If you’re still offering.. I mean-”

Your heart is positively hammering in your chest, so hard you worry he might be able to hear it, but then your thumb drags up and brushes over his own racing pulse again and his nerves seem to somehow calm yours. Your lean forward until the tip of your nose catches on the bridge of his again, eyes not leaving his as you move achingly slow, giving him time in case he decides to change his mind.

“You’re sure?” You ask softly, the whispered question little more than a breath of warm air against the bow of his upper lip.

“Uh huh.” He just manages the quiet sound of affirmation, a small nod of his head has your lips brushing lightly and the barely-there touch pulls a sharp breath of anticipation from him.

“Okay,” You say quietly, dragging one hand to the back of his neck so you can guide the angle of his head just a touch to one side.

His grip on your hips readjusts and tightens further, one of his clammy palms slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, and the warmth of skin on skin has you breathing out harshly in the sliver of space between your lips again. Your eyes flick slow between his, wide pools of scarlet-tinted whiskey watching you with rapt attention. Your mouth curves up with the hint of a smile, a soft breath of laughter falling into his parted lips as your fingers dig into the thick muscle of his neck.

“Close your eyes, weirdo.” You whisper fondly.

“Shit, fuck. Sorry, yeah. Eyes closed.” He rambles off quickly, eyes pinching shut immediately and hands squeezing your hips as if silently promising that he’s ready.

Endeared. You’re so fucking endeared your organs feel as if they’ve gone warm and syrupy beneath your skin.

Despite your admonishment of his eyes being open, you find yourself unable to pull your own away from watching every small tick in his features. Your hand on his shoulder tightens as you brush your nose across his and when the tight pinch of his eyes slackens and he takes a small nervous breath of anticipation, you finally press your lips to his.

It starts with just a small peck as your brain whites out for just a second. His lips are soft and chapped and plush against your own. You linger for a brief moment before you’re separating just enough to slot your mouths back together a little better.

His lower lip finds itself between yours and he gravitates toward you when you make like you’re about to draw back a second time, his mouth blindly searching for yours. He applies more pressure as he seems to become more sure of himself, one of his hands sliding to the base of your spine to drag you closer.

Impressed, you guide the angle of his head to tip just a hair further, your lips parting to exhale a hot breath into the gap between his own. A small sound rumbles from his chest as he tries to replicate the heat of your kiss on the next meeting. His lips fall open just enough that his breath mingles with your own and your brain goes a little heady with it, thighs tensing as blood rushes in your ears and heat pools in your gut.

You draw back and you’re forced to tangle your fingers in his hair to hold him in place when he tries to chase your mouth again. His eyes crack open to meet your own when he finds himself unable to catch you in another kiss and his pupils are blown a little wide, black overtaking brown until only a small ring of rich chocolate remains. You’re sure you don’t look much better, with the way our chest is threatening to heave with excitement, your fingers trembling where they’re gripping onto the muscle of his shoulder and woven into his hair.

“That was.. That was good.” You tell him after a moment, voice embarrassingly shaky, “What.. What’d you think?”

“Good.” He returns just as weak, “Great. That- Mhm. Awesome.”

His eyes are on your lips again and he looks downright hungry, but then, so are you.

“You’re a natural,” You praise breathlessly, eyes flicking between his rapidly as your fingers unconsciously tighten in his hair, “I’d never guess that was your first kiss – It was.. You learn fast.”

“We- You should probably show me more,” He insists, already leaning back in until his forehead finds your own, “That way I won’t end up like Mark, y’know? With pretty girls complaining to their friends about how wet and gross and bad it-”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He blinks at you as his lips curve up at the corners, the tip of his nose catching against yours to shoot sparks down your spine when he replies, “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Oh.” Is all you manage to get out as a smile tugs at your own lips.

“You want to maybe show me how to use tongue without, being completely repulsive and, like, drowning you or whatever?”

“Mhm,” You agree easily through a breathless laugh. You can’t quite help the quick press of your lips to his and you feel the relieved exhale that falls from his nose and fans out in a warm puff against your face. “Just for the record, though-” You feel the need to elaborate, “There is a time and a place for wet. When things are really hot and heavy and you’re in the throes of passion or whatever — a little too much tongue is great. It can be really, really hot. But- Like I said, time and place.”

The information leaves Stiles looking mildly overwhelmed and severely aroused, but he’s nodding dutifully, “Uh huh. Got it. Noted. I’ll remember that.”

“Okay.”

His mouth is claiming yours again before the word is even fully out, the sound of it lost in your lips and what remains is smothered by your gasp of surprise. You let him control the pace for a moment before remembering that you’re supposed to be the one guiding him.

You bring one hand up to his face, thumb catching his chin so you can guide his jaw to drop open a bit further as your tongue teases against the inside of his lip. His groan meets your ears, the sound of it sending a shockwave through your body that you’re still reeling from as he repeats your action with truly startling ease. The warm wetness of his tongue has you feeling hot all over, and when it catches against the tip of your own before retreating, you nearly whimper in protest at the loss.

He effortlessly settles into the pattern of give and take, hot brushes of tongues broken up by soft pecks against slick lips. His fingertips dig into your skin like he’s afraid you might slip away into nothing if he doesn’t hold you tight enough and you find your own fingers scraping at his scalp in response.

You’re both making soft little noises between the quiet smack of lips, the leather seats creaking every time your weight shifts in an attempt to get closer.

The lack of oxygen has your head a little fuzzy at the edges when you finally pull back and each of your exhales mingle warmly in the small sliver of space between your mouths as you both fight to catch your breath.

“I, um. I don’t think you have to worry about your kissing technique.” You tell him breathlessly just to break the silence, “You’re all good. A, uh, a great kisser. Eleven out of ten.”

“Cool. Cool. That’s great, I, um-” He coughs quietly, nervously, as he leans back to put a bit more space between you, “Would you maybe want to do it again sometime?”

He’s looking at you with pretty brown eyes blown wide and bleeding earnestness. The hand around your back has fallen to your upper thigh, the grip of it tightening as if punctuating certain words as he speaks. It’s entirely possible that your brain sort-circuits, because a moment of silence passes before he’s barreling on.

“-because I, for one, would really like to do that again sometime. Maybe.. Maybe after a date? Or during a date — that part doesn’t really matter. I just really like you and I have pretty much since forever and now that I’ve kissed you-”

“You like me?” Is all you manage past the heavy thumping of your heart in your chest, your ears — Shit, you’re pretty sure you can feel every pump of it in each trembling twitch of your fingers.

“So much that’s borderline embarrassing, yeah.” He admits, throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.

A breath whooshes past your lips, filled with relief and surprise and elation.

“I like you too.” You say after a beat too long, “Holy shit. Stiles, are you kidding me? I’ve liked you since the fifth grade.”

“Really?” He looks mildly shocked.

A giddy laugh escapes you as you drag him forward again to bring your lips back together. The kiss is chaste, but filled with so much emotion it makes your head swim a bit.

“Damn,” Stiles mutters suddenly, the frustrated curse puffing out against your cheek, “Does that mean we could’ve been doing this the whole time? Like, years of kissing-?”

His words cut off when your lips find his once more and he gives in easily, his train of thought thoroughly derailed.

“I guess we’ve got a lot of time to make up for then, Stilinski.. You up for the challenge?”

Stiles nods wildly and he’s pulling you back in before you can say anything else.

#stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles x y/n #stiles x reader #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles fluff #dylan o'brien fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf stiles #*#dylan o'brien imagine

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hunny-bean · 11 months

Text

Too Close For Comfort

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank comforts you after he is forced to kill a man in your shared motel room.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), Gun Violence, Dead Body (Not Frank's. Don't Worry), Explicit Sexual Content, Little Pinch of Angst, Long Ass Flashback, Porn With 3.5k Words of Plot

A/N: This is the first fic I've ever written! I've been wanting to write for the JB fandom for a while and I finally decided to go for it. I'm planning to write for a lot more of his characters in the future, but I figured Frank was a good starting point. Hope you like it! I'm open to feedback if you've got it. XOXO.

Read on AO3

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

After almost three months of living in an old stolen pickup truck and a series of shitty motels, you had learned to count your blessings. An important one, you quickly came to realize, was good water pressure. You were in the middle of your forth shower in the three days you and your new travel partner had been in this town, and you were trying your best to savor the moment. Since the closest companion of long showers is long trains of thought, you allowed your mind to wander back to how your adventure first began.

You took a step back in the cereal aisle in your local grocery store to examine the top shelf and ran directly into someone trying to pass behind you. Startled, you dropped the basket you were carrying full of frozen veggies and canned soups, and watched them roll in all directions. You whipped around so quickly you almost joined your soup on the floor, but luckily a strong hand shot out to steady you before you could.

"Whoa. Sorry 'bout that," the stranger said. And that was how you met Frank Castle. Surprisingly, your first impression of him had nothing to do with his gentle giant aura or his warm, gravelly voice. Your first impression happened before you even laid eyes on him, and that was how backing up into him was like hitting a brick wall with your car. He didn't stumble or falter. He didn't even flinch.

"No, sorry, that was my fault," you replied, your cheeks flushed from creating a loud noise in a public place. The stranger removed his hand from your arm and glanced down at the floor where your bags of peas laid, slowly thawing.

"You, uh... You want some help with those?"

"Oh, I got it, don't worry."

The man mumbled an "alright" and you watched him start to walk away, expecting him to leave the aisle, but he only took a few steps before his foot brushed a stray can, and he bent down to help anyway.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that," you said when all the groceries had been collected.

"No problem," he muttered. You weren't sure why, but there was something off-putting about him. Later you realized it was the stark contrast between his gruff outer appearance and his quiet way of speaking. He was so intimidating but he seemed so trustworthy. "You have a nice day, ma'am."

Before he could walk away, you found yourself calling out to him, too curious to let him leave without asking any questions.

"Hey, I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you. . . new in town?"

He seemed amused by your attempt to start a conversation, but decided to indulge you anyway. "I'm just passin' through. So you, uh, you really know everyone that lives here?"

Although he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, he kept subtly glancing around like he was about to cross the street or something. When he turned his head, you noticed the remnants of a week-old bruise on his jaw.

"Pretty much, yeah," you responded. "So, life on the road, huh? Sounds pretty exhilarating."

He let out a friendly chuckle. "Yeah, I guess it can be. If exhilarating is what you call lukewarm showers and buying all your food from the gas station."

You smiled back, happy the man seemed to be warming up some. He seemed less on edge, and you weren't sure why, but that made you feel accomplished in some way.

"Well, this isn't a gas station," you remarked, playfully contradicting his earlier statement.

"You're right, it's not," he said. "But I had to make an exception because-" You watched as he pulled a round object from his jacket pocket, holding it up and waving it slightly as if to show it off. "-gas stations don't carry mangoes."

You mock gasped, unable to fight back a smile. "Pocket fruit? I hope you were planning to pay for that. Or are you 'just passing through' because you're on the run from the police?"

You expected him to laugh at this, but instead you saw him staring intently over your shoulder at a man who had just entered the aisle. He seemed to identify the new arrival as some sort of threat. You saw that they were looking directly at each other, and you suddenly felt uneasy. Before you could ask what was wrong, several things began happening at once.

The man at the end of the aisle pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the two of you. No, not at you, just at the kind stranger, who immediately pushed you behind him as the first shot rang out, followed by a second one. Thankfully, they both missed the two of you, but the second bullet grazed the basket you were still holding which was sticking out from behind the stranger's leg. Instantly, you dropped the basket and began sprinting for the nearest exit with the stranger close behind you.

You ran through a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY,' which the stranger quickly barricaded with a tall shelf packed with bulk boxes of paper towel rolls. As the shooter banged at the door, the two of you found an exit at the back of the stock room, which you flung open and rushed through into the building's side alley. The stranger pulled you behind the building to where his vehicle was conveniently parked, almost as if he'd been anticipating an emergency escape. Too terrified to argue, you didn't protest when he ordered you to get in the passenger seat and jammed his keys in the ignition. He tore out of the parking lot and onto the main road, carrying you away from your home and the man who had tried to kill you both.

It took you half an hour to work up the courage to ask questions.

"Who was he?" you asked, softly. You're sure he heard you, although he seemed happy to pretend he didn't.

After a few long moments, when he realized you weren't going to stop staring at him until he answered, he begrudgingly responded.

"A bad man."

"Why did he wanna kill you?"

"I, uh, took something from him," the stranger said, studying his rear view mirror to see if you were being followed.

"Are you a bad man?" you asked, tentatively.

At first he just sighed, and for a moment you thought that's all he was going to give you for an answer, but then he spoke.

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're asking."

"Then. . . can you take me home?"

"I can't turn around yet, not 'till I know we're not being followed. Then I might be able to take you back so you can pack a bag or two."

"Pack?! For what?" you exclaimed, dreading the answer. There was another awkward silence while the man planned his answer. "Why do I need to pack? Tell me!"

"That man, the one with the gun? He has a, uh, habit of targeting his enemies' loved ones."

"But we barely know each other, why the hell would he-"

"He doesn't know that."

"Besides," he continued after a while, "I don't really. . . have any loved ones. So he's kinda grasping at straws to find somebody I'd want to protect."

"So, he thinks you would care if I died, and now we're both in danger?" You stared at him in disbelief.

"Pretty much, yeah," he mumbled.

After that, the truck was silent for a long while. The only time you spoke in the next two hours was to give the stranger your address. You watched the trees and road pass by beside you, trying to figure out what you would pack when you finally made it home for possibly the last time. You were lost in thought so long that you were pulled out of your head by the truck's tires bouncing over the dip in your driveway. You didn't even know you had turned around.

"You get ten minutes. We're traveling light, so don't go crazy." You began to hop out of the truck before the stranger's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned around and saw that he was looking at you for the first time since you escaped the grocery store. "For the record," he began, contemplating what to say next, "I would care if he killed you."

You just stared back at him, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I'm gonna keep you safe, alright?" he promised, and you believed him.

You nodded, and went inside to gather your belongings. There was just something about this man that made you want to trust him. You managed to fit everything you needed into a large duffel bag and a back-pack. Looking around you, you realized something. You lived alone and all your friends lived out of state. This town had nothing to offer you except a shitty restaurant job. Most likely, the only person who would even notice you were gone was your boss. You took a deep breath before returning to the truck, putting your life in the hands of someone you just met.

You hopped back in the passenger seat, and the stranger helped you toss your bags in the backseat after checking that they were of a reasonable size. "You ready?" he asked.

"Fuck, no. Lets go."

The two of you took off down the road in a different direction than before, hoping to throw the bad man off your trail. After about an hour on the road, you looked over at the stranger to find him smirking slightly, lost in thought.

"What?" you asked, happy the mood seemed to be lightening despite your situation. He glanced over at you momentarily, and instead of providing a verbal response, he just reached into his pocket and handed you a slightly dented but still perfectly ripe mango. You took it from him with a smile.

"What's your name?" you asked.

He looked at you for a long moment, before seeming to make a decision. "Frank. What yours?"

You were brought back to the present by a torrent of freezing cold water, telling you you had been in there too long. You were thankful that Frank seemed to prefer morning showers. As you stepped out and dried off, you thought about the man chasing you. Eventually, when Frank opened up to you, he revealed that his name was Jordan Carlisle, and that his father was involved in the murder of Frank's family. You also discovered that the thing Frank had taken from him was his father's life. It had been so long since that day at the grocery store, and you wondered if you'd ever see him again. Maybe by this point, he'd given up on his revenge, and decided to leave Frank in peace. But Frank said Carlisle wasn't the type of man to just give up, and that if you ever wanted to stop running, someone would have to die.

During your few months together, you also learned that Frank wasn't the type to run away or avoid confrontation. The only reason he hadn't met Carlisle half way and taken him down was to keep you safe. That and the fact that he had been forced to leave behind some supplies shortly before you met and was left with nothing but a handgun, two bullets, and a pocket knife. (All things you could use to kill a man, but probably not a trained assassin).

You were both anticipating the end of the chase, however, because Frank had recently acquired various new firearms and a respectable pile of ammunition, and he was getting a little tired of running. Also, there's only so much distance you can put between you and your attacker before he realizes he's moving in the wrong direction. You had just pulled your favorite cotton nightgown over your head when-

*BANG*

You heard the unmistakable sound of the motel door being forced open. You heard a gunshot and something hit the floor. The sounds of a physical struggle just behind the bathroom door simultaneously relieved you and caused your heart to slam against your rib cage. At least you knew Frank was still alive. Unfortunately, so was the person who broke in. You couldn't see him, but you were pretty sure you knew who it was.

Two more gunshots shocked you into motion. You slid under the bathroom sink and tried desperately to remember what Frank told you to do on your first night together in case of a break in. He told you to get outside and find a hiding spot or barricade yourself in a closet or bathroom and wait for him to come get you. His voice in your head was commanding you, "Do. Not. Move." You tried to do as you were told but the urge to make sure Frank was alright was growing stronger. The muffled grunts and thuds were scaring you. You couldn't tell who had the upper hand and you didn't know enough about guns to determine which shots came from which man.

A loud cry of pain from Frank was your final straw. There wasn't a single thought in your head, let alone a plan, but you couldn't keep hiding while someone you cared about was potentially getting himself killed. You ran to the bathroom door, unlocked it, and threw it open with as much force as you could manage. The door slammed into the wall beside it with a loud crash. A distraction.

Just a few feet in front of you, Jordan Carlisle was caught off guard by the sound and he twirled around to find the source. Almost instantly, his gun was trained on you. Suddenly, you felt consumed by fear unlike anything you'd ever felt before. You heard the gunshot and flinched violently backward, as if you could somehow escape the bullet, stumbling back onto the bathroom floor. You screamed and squeezed your eyes shut tight, waiting for the impact, but it never came. You hesitantly opened your eyes just in time to watch Carlisle collapse onto the dirty motel carpet, eyes open and unseeing. He was dead. The chase was over.

Almost immediately you burst into tears, unable to get the image of his lifeless body out of your head. You knew you should be relieved, but there was something about almost dying that made you prone to emotional outbursts. You gazed up at Frank across the room, who still had his gun pointed at the spot where Carlisle had been standing moments before. He slowly lowered it and looked over at you where you were sitting on the floor, sobbing. He seemed angry, like every cell in his body was infused with a furious energy, and he had just shot the thing he was taking it out on.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" Guess now it was your turn. "I TOLD YOU IF SOMEONE BREAKS IN, YOU FIND A PLACE TO HIDE AND YOU STAY THERE."

"I was j-just wo-horried about you," you hiccuped.

"I HAD IT COVERED."

"I'm sorr-"

"YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED. THEN ALL OF THIS RUNNING BULLSHIT WOULD HAVE BEEN FOR NOTHING."

You turned your head away from the shouting and found yourself looking directly at Carlisle again. This time, you were unable to turn away. It was like you were completely frozen, tension locking all your muscles in place, rendering you incapable of even the slightest movement. Your tears began falling harder but you were barely making a sound. Your lungs were tight and burning. You couldn't even draw in a full breath. Frank's reprimanding faded into background noise. You found yourself wishing desperately that you were anywhere but in that room.

"Oh, fuck," Frank muttered when he saw you damn near hyperventilating. He calmed down considerably when he realized yelling at you was only making things worse. "Shit, I didn't want you to see this."

He made his way over to your side of the room and knelt down to be at eye level with you. You barely acknowledged his presence.

"Hey, look at me," he asked gently. You didn't move your head. Softly, Frank cupped your cheek, the one farther away from him, and used it to turn you in his direction.

"You're gonna be okay," he promised. "Can you stand, sweetheart?"

Seeing Frank alive and calm helped you come back to yourself. Slowly, you nodded. Frank stood and held out his hand to you, which you used to pull yourself up with a little effort. You managed to get upright, but your legs were shaking so hard you weren't sure if you'd be able to walk. It was pathetic, and you were quite sure Frank would agree, but he didn't say anything about it. He just took one look at you and scooped you up into his arms. You were embarrassed by your incompetence, but you had finally stopped crying, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.

Frank carried you over to your bed on the far side of the room and laid you down carefully. On your way over, you passed his bed which was closer to the bathroom, and saw two bullet holes in the pillow Frank had been laying on when you left to take a shower. That was when the relief hit you. You felt no more grief or fear or regret, only solaced by the fact that you were both alive and safe at last.

"Stay here, alright? Don't move," Frank murmured. He turned to walk over to the body again but you grabbed onto his arm before he could leave. He looked back at you questioningly.

"I heard you get hurt," you mentioned shyly. "What happened?"

Frank's eyes revealed that he was happy you were talking again. He seemed touched that your first concern when the shock wore off was for him.

"Ran into the nightstand," he admitted, rubbing his side. "It's just bruised, nothing to worry about."

You had a feeling he wasn't telling you the full story, but you decided to accept his answer. As far as you could tell, he wasn't bleeding anywhere and he didn't seem to be in much pain. Satisfied, you let go of his arm and turned to face the wall. You had a feeling you wouldn't want to see what was about to happen.

You laid there for a while, listening to Frank working behind you. You heard something being dragged across the floor, several grunts of effort and a sickening thud. You heard the faucet running in the sink and the sound of the bathroom door closing. There were footsteps moving around the room. . . the sound of someone changing clothes. You smelled the air freshener left in the bathroom cabinet masking the scent of blood.

Finally, after God knows how long, you felt the bed dip slightly as Frank sat down on the edge. You sat up and moved next to him, resting your head on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. He put his arm around your shoulder and held you closer to him. The two of you weren't usually this affectionate, but you had certainly grown closer during your time together, and you figured the situation called for it.

"Do you think the police are on their way down here?" you asked.

Frank shrugged. "Probably not if they haven't shown up by now." Frank tried and failed to fight back a small smile. "Either that guy behind the front desk is a really heavy sleeper, or he did something to piss off the jackass in our bathtub. The only other people in this dump checked out yesterday," he said. You couldn't help but smile at that along with him. You were just so happy to be alive.

The more you let that thought run through your head, the more you wanted to be close to him. You needed more than an arm around your shoulder after you almost got shot in the head. You wanted to be held. 'Oh, sue me,' you thought. 'Who wouldn't?'

But you tried to let it be enough. You weren't sure how Frank would react to more than what you were already doing and you were too nervous to find out. You felt Frank shift next to you and realized that overthinking had caused you to become tense. The silence between you grew slowly thicker and you were worried he was about to pull away from you. In that moment, Frank standing up seemed like the absolute worst thing in the world that could happen to anyone, and you weren't about to let it.

'Fuck it', you thought, and with one quick movement, you were straddling his lap with your arms thrown over his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He was caught off guard for a brief moment, but a second later his arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you just as tightly. You buried your face in his neck, breathing him in and savoring the feeling of his pulse against your cheek.

"We're okay, Frankie," you breathed. "It's over."

"I told you I was gonna keep you safe, sweetheart. I don't make promises I can't keep."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, content to just hold each other until the sun shone through the curtains. Well, you thought you were content, but it wasn't long before the closeness started to affect you. He was just so warm and solid, and suddenly you felt like he was wearing too many clothes. You wanted to feel him. Feel his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin on yours.

Your stomach was tight with desperation and you felt tears forming behind your eyes. You needed to be closer. Your thighs tightened around Frank's hips and he felt your breathing get heavier against his neck. You shifted your position slightly to ease some of the wanting in your veins but you froze when you heard Frank's breath hitch.

As you settled your weight on his lap again, your new position provided a new sensation. There was something warm pressing against your inner thigh. Even through Frank's impenetrable denim jeans, you could feel it heating up.

Frank was just as aroused by your position as you were. He wanted you, too, but you knew he would never admit it because he cared about you too much to do anything that could potentially hurt you.

The worst part was, you could feel it getting bigger and pulsing softly right next to where you wanted it the most, and he knew you could feel it. He knew, and he knew you wanted it, but he still wasn't saying anything about it because he was too damn stubborn. He probably thought you weren't in your right mind and would regret it in the morning but that was just such bullshit. You could never regret him, and you were going to make sure he knew that.

There was still some part of you that was afraid to make a move, and that part of you really wanted Frank to break first. So, you decided to make him unable to ignore it any longer. Pretending to adjust your position again, you settled down directly on top of his bulge, making sure it was exactly where you wanted it. The feeling of his cock hardening against you sent another wave of desperation through your body, causing you to tighten your limbs around him again. Still feigning innocence, you rolled your hips once for good measure, grinding down on him to see his reaction.

You didn't see it so much as feel it, when his arms tensed up around you and he turned his head away from you in frustration. You could feel your blood pumping hard, and you were sure your face was flushed. You wondered if he could feel your heartbeat the same way you could feel his pressed up against your clit. You felt his cock twitch again, even through three layers of fabric, and you could barely take it any more. You rolled your hips again, purely on instinct, and accidentally let out a soft moan.

Frank exhaled sharply and slid his arm from around your waist to pull your head away from his neck.

"What are you doin', sweetheart?" he asked, looking at you sympathetically when he saw your wrecked face. Suddenly, it was all too much for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop a rogue tear from sliding down your cheek.

"Please," you whispered, and that was all you had to say.

He put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you toward him before lightly brushing his lips against yours. You pushed forward, wanting more, but Frank pulled away before you could really kiss him. He just sat there for a moment, searching your eyes for any signs of reluctance or any lack of clarity whatsoever. In the end, he found nothing but pure desire and maybe, just maybe, love.

This time, when he leaned in, you met him half way. This time, it was more than just a brush of lips. Frank kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. Gentle, yes, but also tortuously deep. You felt his tongue brush against your lower lip and gently coax your mouth open to kiss you harder, and it was warm and wet and perfect. As your need got worse, you began to grind down on him again, sighing into his mouth from the friction.

The hand he had on your neck moved up to tangle in your hair, tugging gently, while the other one shifted to settle on your lower back as he encouraged harder, slower movements of your hips. As he forced you down against him, the feeling of the rough denim on your clit through your thin panties caused you to whine quietly. Every slight movement sent sparks shooting up your spine.

You shifted your body backwards and reached down between you to tug at his zipper, but it didn't want to come down. Frank let you struggle with it for a moment, but just as you started getting frustrated, he took over for you.

In one swift movement, you were on your back underneath him, your legs still hooked around him. He sat up for a moment to pull off his shirt (revealing his fucking perfect abs that seemed completely unfair and you were about to LOSE YOUR MIND BECAUSE HOLY SHIT) and then he was back on top of you, pressing one last kiss to your lips before pulling away to look you in the eyes.

"You sure you want this, sweetheart?"

"Don't you fucking dare leave me like this, Castle."

Frank snorted, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Yes, ma'am."

With one hand, he reached down to unzip and tug down his pants and underwear, freeing his flushed cock from it's uncomfortable confines. It was bigger than you expected it to be, which is saying something because you already knew he was big from rubbing against it. He was so hard it looked painful, and he gave himself a few tugs to take the edge off. Just watching it drip onto the bed had you feeling dizzy. You were unbearably wet and all you wanted was to feel it inside of you.

Luckily, Frank seemed to tell as much, because he slid his hand up your thigh, kissing your neck gently and pushing the hem of your nightgown up to your stomach. He hooked the fingers of one hand in the waistband of your underwear but he paused there, waiting for some sort of go-ahead. You nodded at him, and he sat back again to tug your panties down your legs and pull them off.

This time, instead of immediately climbing back on top of you, Frank took a moment to admire you from an upright position. He gazed hungrily at your exposed cunt before swiping a finger through your folds and brushing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You jolted at the feeling, whimpering when he did it again just to watch you shudder.

"Frankie, please," you whined.

Frank decided to have mercy on you, and he came up to kiss you as he lined the tip of his cock up with your aching hole. He pushed slowly until the thick head was all the way in, surrounded by your soft, fluttering walls. It was a stretch, and it wasn't even half-way in. You appreciated Frank giving you a moment to adjust, but you didn't want one. You wanted to feel all of him, even if it hurt.

Hooking your legs tighter around him, you tried to push him into you. It didn't work, obviously. You didn't think you could move Frank if you barreled into him full-force, but he got the message.

In one smooth thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, grunting loudly and whispering an "Oh, fuck" into your neck. Your back arched up off the bed and you moaned loudly as his cock hit sweet spots inside you that you didn't even know existed.

Having Frank hovering over you, connected to you in so many ways, was easily the best thing you'd ever experienced. You were both breathing heavily and shaking as you waited for the initial pleasure shock to wear off.

Once you adjusted, you shifted slightly under him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. Whatever stimulation you managed to get from that was nothing compared to when he actually started moving. Each thrust was slow and deep, sending waves of bliss coursing through you. You couldn't stop the gasps and whimpers that kept escaping, nor did you want to.

Franks arms were on either side of your head, closing you in so all you could see and feel was him. You had never felt so safe in your entire life. Every movement was so complete and perfect. Nothing was rushed or forceful, but it was still all pure pleasure. You were sure you had never been this wet before.

Feeling Frank's back muscles shift under your fingertips as he thrust into you was mesmerizing, and hearing him moan softly and curse against your pulse point was sending shivers through your body. Every time Frank pushed his cock back inside you, you felt yourself ascending further, rapidly approaching your peak. Every time he pulled out slowly so you could feel it dragging against every part of your sensitive walls, you wanted to sob from feeling so good.

It wasn't long before you were crying out from your release, tightening your grip on every part of Frank and leaving long scratches down his back. When your climax finally hit, you swore you were having an out-of-body experience.

"Attagirl, that's it," Frank whispered as he felt you spasm around him. "Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Where-" he began. Reluctantly, you rubbed your hand on your stomach. You hadn't had access to birth control in almost six weeks and shitty motels don't provide condoms. Even the ones with good water pressure.

You rubbed the back of Frank's head gently as his thrusts grew more erratic, grabbing onto and playing with his hair. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and jerked his cock barely three times before he was finishing on your stomach with a quiet groan, painting it with his cum.

Breathing heavily, the two of you collapsed next to each other, coming down from your highs and processing what just happened. Idly, you began playing with the mess on your stomach as you thought about what was next for the two of you. There was no way in hell you were letting Frank drop you off at your house and just take off after that. You know you said "It's over," but it couldn't really be over, right?

"Stay with me," you whispered.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, baby."

"I'm not talking about tonight. When you take me back home, stay with me."

Frank pushed himself up on one elbow, looking at you in disbelief. "Sweetheart, I don't think I can-"

"Then I'll stay with you. My house is a family heirloom, I've only gotta pay for water and electricity. It'll still be waiting for me whenever I need it."

"I can't let you do that. You have no idea how much I want to, but I'd get you killed."

"Then stop moving for a while. No one would find you in that town. Just stay with me. Please. If you hate it, you can leave."

Frank sighed, glancing around the room before settling his gaze back on you. He brought his hand to your face, brushing his fingertips down your cheek like you were a precious artifact. You both knew he wasn't ready to let you go.

"Okay."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

#jon bernthal #frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle smut #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal smut #frank castle fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 1 year

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ok so personally, Im usually so adverse to romantic interactions that even if I click on that someone is genuinely pursuing me, ill ignore it or pretend they arent. maybe a defence mechanism? idk BUT it does make for the most rabid situations and thoughts ever ever ever

imaging best friend!James and reader maybe getting into the situation in which they have to share a bed sometime. maybe its a group vacation or something. in my head - James potter is a serial humper in his sleep sometimes. hes a big guy in all aspects, and he also cant help but wanna cuddle with you to sleep!! but that also means he wakes himself up a couple times by grinding softly on u, and he feels so bad, but thankfully youve never woken up cus of it. separately, youve also learnt to not mention that you can quite clearly uh..feel him some mornings when ur both drowsy, pressed together n still groggy. and you, oh so conveniently also never mention that you kinda like how it feels. but, hey-ho.

its the middle of the night, and as usual, James is spooning you from behind, he has to be bent a little to fit his head in ur hair, and hes pressing his entire body against ur back. the air still smells of washed-off sunscreen and sea salt, and theres a fan going in the corner of the room. and this time James wakes up to YOU humping HIM. im talking, his breath hitches and everythingggg until he realises ur sleep. ur asleep and grinding back on him and ur breathing is all stuttered and he always guessed youd be a little quiet but ur little noises are so breathy and holy shit ur wet????? theres no way you get this wet.. until James realises that hes propped himself up on his arm and is just staring down at where ur moving ur hips on him and he tries to snap himself out of it by waking u up. ur still groggy but absolutely mortified when he tells you "yeah bug, you uh- y'got a little excited 'bout me in ur sleep, huh? s'okay yknow, its okay :]"

and he 100% offers to help you out. even when u say that friends arent suppose to do that, AND also mumbling about how guys normally didn't really make girls cum and mentioning abt how you always hear people say its too complicated, he just brings up how you just grinded on his lap in ur sleep, and that felt good, so, how can it not be allowed? its just a friend helping out a friend! :) and that he can definitely get u off, he'd be sooo good at it!! the only way this goes in my head is that not much shuffling around is done, all that changed is that ur on ur back now, and hes licking his bottom lip into his mouth as he looms over you slightly from ur side, his hands moving down and down. he'd definitely be tilting his head and "yeah, this part feels really good, yeah? yeah" all nodding and smiling n shit. 'best friend' James from that point on, takes any opportunity to 'help you out', he'd transition into using more than his fingers too. he was in love with you before this but now???? hes a goner.

babe thank u for blessing me with these cause i did NOT feel like writing today so i let you tell me a story and it was amazing <333

this post is 18+, minors dni.

james potter sleep slut is canon in my mind... just the way he wakes up with his big beefy arms wrapped around you while his hips move?? mhm. and he wakes up and is like ohshitohshitohshit but he doesn't wanna let go!!! so he just tries to dial himself back in, but he most likely needs a minute in the bathroom to compose himself </3

no but if you feel it in the morning.. you don't wanna point it out 'cause what if he says something like 'oh sorry i'm just really sensitive' or 'sometimes the wind makes it do that' LIKE NO. YOU WANNA KNOW IF IT'S REALLY BECAUSE OF YOU. so you just keep quiet, but in the early morning when he's sleepily begging for fivemoreminutes and isn't quite in tune with his body yet, you're definitely hyper aware of his hard on digging into your thigh or butt or hip or belly or whatever <3

when HE wakes up to YOU grinding on HIM he's mindblown.. he knows he likes you, he knows you're pretty, but he marvels at how amazing you look while dragging your hips back against his, like how could you look this amazing??

but he feels even worse watching you than he does accidentally doing it in his sleep, 'cause this isn't an accident!! he's not catching you in the act by mistake anymore, he's just watching you grind on him and getting all worked up about it, which in turn is only making him more hard. finally he decides to just wake you, smoothing your hair away from your face and kissing your cheek, murmuring your name softly until you finally rouse. and when you're blubbering sleepily at him 'why'd you wake me?' he just smiles like :] oh you were having a wet dream :] just wanted you to know :] and you're !!!!!!! WHAT !!!!!!!

you're instantly apologizing a million times but he's reassuring you like no no no!! it's okay bug, really!! happens to the best of us <3 but if you want some help w that i can help you!! i mean i've got the facilities, trust me. just say the word and we can make your dreams come true :]

you're just instantly terrified. you're shaking your head, sitting up like no, that's not what friends do. and- and it's hard! to make a girl- y'know... and he's like ?? no it's not ?? i promise i won't have a hard time with you bug.

so once you've suggested that he won't be able to do it.. he's gonna do it. he'd never ever force you to do anything against your will but the only excuses that you have are that friends don't do that (and they totally do!!! james is right now!!!!) and that it would probably be hard for him, and nothing about you not wanting it. so when he finally gets it out of you that yes you want it, but no he won't be able to help, he's gonna go to town. he begs for a chance to prove you wrong and you should have known with his super competitive nature that challenging him would be dumb, but i mean. worst case scenario he can't do it. you're already expecting that. why not??

so he tries, rubbing your pretty little clit and stroking over your folds before dipping between them, only a little upset that you're already wet because it means that he can't get you all worked up first, he can't kiss the slick out of you, he can't suck on your neck until you're wet, it's already there </3 but next time for sure, for now he's very excited about just being able to touch you

your cunt is warm and wet and everything he's ever dreamed of, but he's too nervous about overstepping to ask to eat you out, so he doesn't.. but in future, it's coming.

but he absolutely soaks in the moment, humming and cooing and crooning at you about how good it feels, asking you every time you whimper if it feels nice, if he's doing it right, if you think he'll be able to finish you off. and it's so intoxicating having him that close that you absolutely have to use all of your willpower to not kiss him while he hovers over you. he guides you through your orgasm and brings you down gently, absolutely the perfect lover, and he even asks if he can lick his fingers clean. he's like wouldn't think it was weird, would you, bug? I can clean 'em off? and when you nod he sucks them clean, humming at your taste and grinning giddily at you.

now you have a helper ! he will not leave u alone. bed sharing is a must now, and the more you sleep together, the more horny you are for him, and the more you wake up in the middle of the night, and the more he 'helps you out', and it is a cycle that you couldn't break if you tried, not that you'd ever want to.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction #james potter smut

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wileys-russo · 9 months

Text

the striker and her wingman II a.russo x reader

nervous lovestruck lessi >>

the striker and her wingman II a.russo x reader

ella sighed deeply, tapping her foot impatiently as she folded her arms over her chest and shook her head, checking the time on her phone confirming that once again her best friend was late.

finally she saw the strikers white mercedes pull up outside the coffee shop, watching in amusement as the older girl struggled to parallel park despite the multiple angles of reverse cameras ella knew she had at her disposal, something she would be sure to take the piss out of alessia for later.

busying herself scrolling through instagram ella glanced up and spotted the familiar blonde mop of hair eventually parked and legging it across the road, tripping over her own feet and being honked at by a passing car her face paled and she held a hand up apologetically.

"tooney!" alessia scowled as ella doubled over, laughing loudly at the girls consistent streak of clumsy bad luck. "bout time you got here less, not like we left training at the same time!" ella calmed herself and rolled her eyes, nudging her shoulder into the taller girl who mumbled something under her breath and followed her best friend inside.

"aw jills not working." ella frowned as the bell chimed to signal their entrance, the coffee shop owned by their former team mate not empty but hardly full at three in the afternoon. but it had become a winter post training tradition for both alessia and ella to meet up here and have a hot chocolate, the two so dedicated to the routine they'd created a new superstition that if it didn't happen twice a week they would become genuinely fearful that they'd lose on the weekend.

"oh that means you actually have to pay, what a shame!" alessia teased as the two wandered over to the counter. "oh I uh I suddenly actually need to use the toilet, be right back!" ella darted off in the opposite direction as alessia rolled her eyes, grabbing her phone out to pay for their drinks, more than used to her best friends antics.

alessias eyes hungrily wandered the baked goods on display as she waited patiently at the counter, tossing up which one she was craving more until a voice snapped her out of it. "sorry for the wait! what can i get for you?" as the blonde looked up with a smile her stomach flipped and her mouth ran dry at the unfamiliar girl standing in front of her.

"you alright?" the girls eyebrows creased a little in concern at the lack of answer from the striker, alessia fighting to get her words out genuinely stunned into silence by the beauty gazing at her oddly. "did you order already? ooo can i get a brownie??" suddenly ella was back beside her, her friends loud voice in her ear snapping alessia back into reality as she felt her cheeks and ears flush bright red with embarassment.

"did you want anything else with that, drinks maybe?" the stranger hinted with an amused smile, angling the question towards alessia who nodded. "and that would be?" the girl asked when alessia didn't actually provide an answer, biting down on her lip to hold back a grin as ella glanced at alessia with a confused frown, the normally confident blonde acting very out of character.

"well well well if it isn't tooney and lessi russo!" jill sang out, suddenly appearing beside the mystery beauty as alessia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. "i see you've both met y/n, me blossoming new protege!" jill beamed, slinging an arm around the shorter girls shoulder who rolled her eyes playfully.

"aren't proteges supposed to actually learn things? i don't think you've taught me anything except how to chat a customers ear off jilly." the girl grinned teasingly as jill pulled her into a headlock, ruffling her hair and letting her go.

"these two are some of my best manchester regulars, they'll have two large hot chocolates and they're on the house. euro winners special!" jill winked as ella beamed and alessia smiled appreciatively.

"maybe a brownie for the backheel queen and the match changer then?" ella asked cheekily, alessia ramming an elbow into the girls side with a glare, ella shoving her away as jill simply laughed and agreed, grabbing them out herself. "i'll bring these over to you." the girl assured as she ducked behind the coffee machine, ella thanking her and tugging alessia off toward their usual table by the window.

"less what is wrong with you man? are you a mute now or something?" ella asked with a bewildered look toward her best friend as they sat down, cutting the brownie in half and sliding alessia's bit over to her. "nothing, just tired after training." alessia shrugged it off, though as ella studied her, noticing the frequented glances toward their new barista, cogs began to turn.

"here we go! for the superstars, or so jill tells me." you announced playfully and ella didn't miss the way alessia's body tensed up nervously as you brought their drinks over, shooting the blonde a dazzling smile as ella once more thanked you for the both of them.

"so you from around here?" the brunette asked with a friendly smile, wanting to continue to watch alessia squirm as she slowly put the pieces together.

"don't give my life story to anyone i don't know, stranger danger you know!" you teased, ella opening her mouth to retort a cheeky comment back but both girls heads snapped towards alessia as there was a loud smash and a squeal, the striker knocking her hot chocolate all down herself, the ceramic mug it was once in falling to the floor and shattering into pieces gaining the attention of everyone else around them.

"still clumsy as ever then i see less!" jill was at the table in a flash, sweeping up the pieces as you excused yourself to go and make alessia a new drink, the blonde apologizing profusely to jill and burying her face in her hands, wishing the ground would swallow her up as jill dismissed her with a wave, assuring it was a only a cheap mug anyway.

"okay less, spill it!" ella ordered firmly once it was just the two of them again, staring alessia down as the girl looked to her with a frown. "what was that?" ella accused taking a bite out of her brownie and almost moaning in pleasure. "what was what?" alessia continued, perfectly plucked eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"that! you're normally clumsy but you could barely get a word out." ella continued, alessia dismissing her with a wave of her hand.

"oh my god less, you like the new girl." ella grinned in realization, the blonde scoffing and assuring her she was wrong before gratefully accepting the second mug of hot chocolate from jill, admittedly a little disappointed it wasn't you who brought it over again, though at the same time appreciative that it avoided another opportunity for her to embarrass herself again.

"you like her less!" ella beamed louder, alessia hissing for her to shut up as her eyes darted nervously toward the girl in question, sighing a little in relief that she hadn't appeared to have heard her best friends cheers.

"shut up tooney!" alessia scowled unappreciatively, sipping much more carefully at her hot chocolate as ella wiggled excitedly across from her. "less this is so exciting you never have crushes, go get her number!" ella encouraged enthusiastically, practically bouncing in her seat as she spoke.

"no! don't be stupid." alessia grimaced, taking a bite of the brownie and glaring at her best friend. "the only stupid thing is that we're probably gonna be seeing a whole lot more of her and if you keep getting tongue tied every time shes near you you'll scare her off!" ella teased as alessia rolled her eyes again.

"hi! sorry to interrupt. but thought you might want a dry shirt?" alessia choked on her mouthful as you appeared, offering her a box to box employee top with a soft smile. feeling ella kick at her under the table and widen her eyes with a subtle nod, alessia shot her a dirty look and cleared her throat.

"yeah that would be great, thank you." alessia managed to get out, not missing the way your face lit up at the verbal response, happily handing her the shirt and excusing yourself back to the counter as a few customers walked in.

"well go and change then you big dope!" ella rolled her eyes, making a shooing motion with her hands as alessia hurried off to the bathroom, tips of her ears still burning bright red.

finishing her hot chocolate and now left alone to her own devices ella glanced over and noticed you stood by yourself at the front, drumming your nails against the counter, unoccupied. grabbing her empty mug she took it over to the bench, placing it down as you smiled at her appreciatively and ducked out the back to place it in the sink.

"ella was it?" you checked as you returned, the midfielder leaning her hip against the counter and nodding in confirmation. "so you're one of those big fancy footballers then? have to admit I’ve not actually heard of you before, sorry for the knock to your ego.” you smiled teasingly as ella feigned shock that you didn’t know who she was. "scuse you i'm quite famous round here, local legend some may even say! was even papped eating a pastie once." ella bragged, puffing out her chest goofily, rewarded with your laughter.

the two of you busied yourself with some pleasant small talk, alessia returning to the table now changed and frowning when she noticed ella was no longer there. "oh no." the striker mumbled to herself hearing a familiar burst of laughter and realising just where her best friend had dissapeared to.

"so enough about me, you'll have to google the rest sadly, celebrity things you know!" ella cleared her throat with a shrug as you rolled your eyes with a smile. "see the blonde over there i came in with? the clumsy one who doesn't know how to drink a hot chocolate." ella nodded toward her best friend whose attention was turned to the street outside as you hummed.

"a girl of very few words." you smiled as ella forced a sarcastic laugh in response. "one could only wish that was true. she just thinks you're fit, stunned her into silence one could say!" ella announced casually as your eyes widened a little at the confession, cocking an eyebrow toward the brunette in front of you.

"so, you seeing anyone?" ella smiled charmingly, resting her head on her chin as you chuckled. "cutting your friends grass just a little there with that question aren't we?" you smirked, ella scoffing and waving off your words. "you should be so lucky! i am in fact taken very happily with my boyfriend, but alessia is single." ella heavily hinted with a wiggle of her eyebrows making you laugh.

"well then why isn't she over here instead of you?" you asked with an amused look toward the girl in front of you. "well i would hardly be a good wing man if i let her now would i?" ella boasted with a wink as you simply hummed in response, the bell chiming signalling you had customers.

"this has been lovely ella, but i have to actually do my job now!" you smiled as ella deflated a little at her lack of success but nodded in understanding, leaving you to it and returning back to the table. "what was that about then?" alessia asked, worrying over what her loud mouthed lack of filter best friend might have said in her absence.

"just a friendly chat, i'm not stealing your missus less don't worry!" ella grinned as the blonde rolled her eyes, finishing the last mouthful of her hot chocolate as the two fell into their usual conversation, discussing everything and anything until before they knew it the cafe had emptied out and they'd realized it was closing time, also not something new to either of them as this was often the case for the two.

"well looks like i've got a new employee then have i!" jill teased, nodding to the shirt alessia was wearing with a grin, chatting with her two former team mates about their upcoming derby match tomorrow, getting in all the puns and sledges jill could manage towards her friends beloved united, forever a die hard former city player.

excusing herself to balance the register and continue closing the tall girl exchanged hugs with the two and strode away, ella scurrying off to use the toilet before they left. "here, on the house." no sooner had jill leave did you suddenly appear making alessias knees wobble, placing down a brown paper bag in front of the blonde with a soft smile, disapearing as soon as you'd arrived.

curiously alessia opened the top of the bag and grinned seeing four brownies stashed away inside, looking up to try and thank you but you were obviously out the back somewhere and she sighed a little in disappointment as ella returned and the two of them exited the cafe, the bell chiming after them.

"oo what have you got then?" the bag was rudely taken from her grasp as ella nosily shoved her head inside as they walked over to alessias car, the blonde quick to snatch it back as ella whined. "less!" the girls eyes widened and she reached once more for the bag as alessia held it away from her, firmly stating they were hers.

"no you dope! look on the other side." ella grinned and alessias eyebrows creased, flipping the bag around her stomach lurched into her throat seeing a number scribbled across the back. "ha! it did work, ultimate wingman ultimate wingman ultimate wingman!" ella chanted as she danced around like an idiot, pumping her arms in the air like a madwoman.

"what worked tooney?"

"so how's things with lovergirl!" ella teased the next morning, sliding into the passenger seat of alessia's car as the blonde picked her up for the match. "less please tell me you messaged her." ellas face dropped at the guilty look from her best friend who picked at her fingers, refusing to meet her gaze.

"alessia! she's gonna think you're not into her you idiot!" ella punched the girl in the arm with a shake of her head as alessia scowled, rubbing at her arm. "i don't know what to say!" the striker defended, slumping back into her seat with a groan, having put your number into her phone and stared blankly at the message icon, continually overthinking what she should say until the clock ticked over into the next day and alessia forced herself to try and sleep.

"oh here's an idea, how about you start with hello?" ella mocked with a shake of her head in disbelief as alessia sighed deeply, starting up the car and glancing over her shoulder before pulling out.

"you are hopeless less, no wonder you've been single for so long. as your wingman theres only so much i can do for you before you actually have to put in some work!"

"yeah alright tooney, i get it."

alessia sighed as she stepped out of the shower, muscles aching from an intense ninety minutes played, united having just come away with a win after a grueling derby. the girl wasted no time changing into her tracksuit and scraping her wet hair into a bun, packing everything into her kit bag which she slung over her shoulder.

having taken her time in the showers the majority of alessia's team mates had already left for the evening, ella grabbing a lift from millie as the girl had absolutely no patience and did not appreciate the time it took alessia to go through her post match routine.

waving a tired goodbye to nikita and ona who were sat chatting alessia made her way out of the locker rooms, the stadium now mostly emptied out as a few lone stragglers hung around chatting or celebrating the home teams win.

"you know when a girl is told that someone thinks shes fit and she then goes out of her way to give them her number and some free brownies, its a little humiliating when you don't receive a message." alessia jumped at the sudden voice, turning to see you sat up on the seats beside her, knees tucked into your chest as alessias heart began to hammer in her own.

"what are you doing here?" was all the blonde could manage to get out, wincing at how unintentionally blunt it had come out as your face dropped even further, pointing up behind you where jill was sat a few rows up, chatting excitedly with a few people sporting city jerseys, clearly soaking up the attention.

"my ride is busy reliving her glory days." you answered softly, alessia nodding in understanding as she awkwardly shifted her kit bag on her shoulder. "sorry if i made you uncomfortable." you continued when she didn't say anything, eyes silently awaiting a response as alessia opened and closed her mouth a few times, heart beat accelerating as she found herself lost in the galaxy of color that were your eyes, her already weak legs wobbling a little.

"good talk." you mumbled with a frown, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment at your obvious misunderstanding of the situation, pushing yourself to sit up and moving to walk up and away toward jill.

alessias eyes widened and she felt her body go rigid with panic. "wait! are you busy right now?" the blonde blurted out, hands fiddling nervously with the strap of her kit bag as you frowned a little. "why?" you asked, folding your arms over your chest with a firm stare.

"are you free to go get dinner? i promise i did mean to message you, but i just...well i didn't know what to say and i didn't want to scare you off but i guess i already did that by not actually replying and well i-" alessia began to ramble as your face softened a little at her obvious nerves.

"sure." you cut her off with a small smile, alessia looking to you in surprise her words falling short. "really?" alessia asked with wide eyes and your smile grew, nodding in confirmation. "unless you're not sure?" you teased as alessia frantically shook her head, promising you she really meant it.

"so do you mean like we go now?" you asked, alessia agreeing before she glanced down and realised she was only clad in joggers and a hoodie, wincing a little. "i'm not one for fancy dinners on first dates." you gently assured seeing her nerves spike up again. "a date?" alessia spoke up, your face paling as you one again began to stress you'd misunderstood.

"a date! yes, a date. just maybe somewhere...casual?" alessia winced again gesturing to her man united getup with a guilty smile, you letting out a small sigh of relief. glancing up behind you and seeing your boss still engaged actively in conversation you made the decision you would just send her a text as alessia offered to drive the two of you.

"jill might fire me for getting into a car with a united player you know." you grinned teasingly, jogging down the steps to meet her as the two of you walked off into the car park. "don't tell me you support city." alessia shook her head, nerves slowly settling the more she actually forced herself to push through them and speak with you.

"i don't normally watch football at all, but jills doing her best to force me into it." you admitted with a smile, eyebrows raising in surprise as you noticed alessia unlock her very expensive looking car.

"well if this date is going to work i just might need to change your mind." alessia teased, tossing her kit bag in the back and your stomach flipped as she opened the door for you.

fast forward a few months and alessia had indeed stuck true to her word, over the course of your rapidly blossoming relationship forcing you to watch countless football matches including all of last summers euros, talking your ear off about the rules and regulations and tactics.

the blonde which was now your girlfriend, to be exact.

the taller girl was just as awkward asking you that question as she was the first day you met her, the sweet ramblings as she danced around the actual direct question of your official relationship status only making your affections for her grow stronger as you'd tugged her down into a kiss, murmuring a yes against her lips and putting her out of her misery as she grinned, pulling away and wrapping you in a suffocatingly tight hug.

it was how you found yourself now kitted out in a lionesses jersey with her last name spread across the back of your shoulder blades, stood in her flat in her kitchen cooking her dinner as you awaited your girlfriend to return from training.

you didn't have to wait long as you heard her keys jingle in the front door, her timing perfect as you'd just finished dishing up her favourite pasta, knowing all too well that was her go to after a thursday evening of grueling double sessions.

"hello gorgeous." you greeted sweetly with an adoring smile as the exhausted looking striker dumped her kit bag and shoes by the door and padded tiredly into the kitchen. "hi." the taller girl sighed into your shoulder slumping into your awaiting arms, pressing a kiss to her cheek as she gripped onto you tightly.

"dinners ready but do you want a shower first? it can easily be reheated." you murmured softly, rubbing comfortingly at her back as she shook her head, mumbling that she'd already showered at the gym as you walked the two of you over to the lounge, gently pushing her to sit down and refusing her offers of help, demanding she stay put as you grabbed your bowls of dinner and brought them over.

thanking you with a peck on the lips alessia settled back into the lounge, a comfortable silence falling between you as you ate, both engrossed in succession, the show recommended to you by alessia's national team mates during her last camp.

bowls long washed up and the fourth episode of your show in a row now finishing you glanced down to see the blonde sprawled out on top of you had fallen asleep, arms wrapped tightly around your torso as her head rested on your chest, your own hands tucked up the back of her top, nails scratching softly up and down her back.

"baby." you whispered softly, shaking her gently as her piercing blue eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily she lifted her head a little. "time for bed, come on." you smiled, heart melting as she nodded tiredly, but collapsed back on top of you and burying her face in your neck.

"lessi baby, come on your neck and back are gonna kill you tomorrow if we sleep on the lounge again." you warned gently, shaking her again as you felt her exhale deeply into your skin, laughing a little at the ticklish sensation as the taller girl tiredly pushed herself up, rolling off of you and forcing herself to her feet with another tired sigh.

shooing her off upstairs you rushed around to flick off all the lights and lock the doors of her flat up, spending more nights here than in your own flat you were well accustomed to everything. by the time you made it to her bedroom your face softened seeing the lamp left on and her body already tucked away beneath the blanket.

rummaging around in her wardrobe you located your her favourite hoodie, slipping the oversized material over your head as you stepped out of your slippers and lifted the edge of the duvet, reaching over the flick off the lamp and shuffle properly into bed you blinked a few times, eyes adjusting as the room was plunged into darkness.

"your legs are freezing." you heard the blonde beside you grumble as you pressed yourself into her, the taller girl flipping onto her side as you tucked yourself as tightly into her as you could. "warm them up then." you wound her up by rubbing your bare legs against hers as she whined tiredly and kicked at you, empty threats of throwing you out of bed dropping from her lips.

"i better wake up to breakfast in bed and a coffee for having to put up with you." alessia sighed as you smacked at her in the dark, a smile curling onto the strikers face as she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"you'll be waking up to an empty bed, i start at five tomorrow baby." you reminded, feeling her body vibrate with a loud groan, knowing that meant she too would be woken up early from your alarms. "remind me to have a stern word with jill about your roster." the striker huffed in annoyance, tomorrow being her day off she had planned for a sleep in all wrapped up with you, her plans now rudely ruined.

"sure my love, you do just that."

she didn't, of course.

but she did as always pick you up at lunchtime when your shift finished, your mood instantly lifting as you exited the cafe, tired from the early open shift and grateful to avoid the incoming lunch rush, spotting the blonde leant against her white mercedes waiting patiently.

"hello beautiful." the strikers own body perked up as she greeted you with a sweet kiss, opening your door for you before hurrying around to her own side. "picked you up some sushi." alessia gestured to the paper bag by your feet, grinning at the excited squeal that came from you at the surprise.

"thank you love you didn't need to do that." you beamed leaning over to kiss her cheek appreciatively as she stretched an arm over the back of your seat and glanced behind her to reverse out of her spot, your stomach flipping at how attractive you found the simple maneuver.

"do you know what tooney asked me to do today?" alessia spoke up as you hummed, swallowing your mouthful of food and reaching over to offer her a piece of sushi which she happily accepted.

"thank her in front of the entire team for and i quote 'being the god of love who got us to get together'." alessia shook her head with a roll of her eyes as you tilted back your head letting out a loud belt of laughter, having grown incredibly close with your girlfriends best friend.

"well, if she hadn't of come over to talk to me that day with the brownies - you wouldn't have my number."

"surely you're not going to take her side? she's already insufferably annoying on a good day, i don't need the two of you ganging up on me!"

"lessi you were an absolute nervous wreck - do i need to bring up the hot chocolate incident?"

"i was not! i was just..."

"hopelessly in love with me from day one, it’s okay to admit aloud, it’s healthy!”

"god i'm putting you on a ban from spending time with tooney, she's done no good for this ginormous ego you're developing."

"ego! at least i had the confidence to give you my number, not that you used it."

"i have apologized for that over a hundred times and you agreed to stop bringing it up, especially around our families to make fun of me!"

"no but back to your point, i think you need to give your wingman some credit." you grinned as alessia pulled into her driveway, cutting off the engine and pouting at you with a frown. "maybe just...a tiny bit." alessia used her fingers to create a minuscule gap, causing you to playfully roll your eyes at her.

"wasn't her fault you were just too stunned by my ethereal beauty, you're only human." you teased as the two of you exited the car, alessia hurrying to grab your bag for you as you tossed the rubbish from your lunch into the bin which sat by the curb ready to be picked up tomorrow morning.

"here we go with this ego again, what am i going to do with you?" your body was pressed against the front door the moment you stepped inside, the taller girl glancing down at you with a smirk.

"call your best friend and thank her for me even giving you a chance russo." you breathed out against her lips, ducking under her arm as she leant in for a kiss and striding off into the living room, changing into a run as you heard alessia yell after you, begining to chase you around the house as the sounds of your laughters bounced off the wall.

"got you!" you squealed as the athlete easily cornered you, tackling you onto the lounge and pulling you to lay on top of her, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck and tugging your lips to meet hers, hand on the back of your head meaning she was in full control of when you pulled away.

though as much as she may have verbally disagreed, the striker knew that deep down without her wing man, her life would be significantly less happy or fulfilling without you in it, so maybe she did owe ella a small thank you.

but you would never hear her admit that out loud.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #woso imagine #engwnt #alessia russo x reader #fic recs

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savventeen · 10 months

Text

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

#svtsource #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan fic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #savv writes #savv fics #in my queue world

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klaprisun · 19 days

Text

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 14

The sound of seagulls floods the open, unpolluted air of Pelican Town. Summer has finally arrived, which means I have to grow this season's crops. A trip to Pierre's shop is in dire need since I also need to replenish my food supply.

The jingle above the door announces my arrival, causing Pierre to look up from his counter and give me a greeting nod. I shoot back a casual wave and disappear into the aisles.

"I knew you'd be here, farmer." Haley gave me a sly smile. She was apparently waiting for my arrival.

"Well hello there pretty lady, how'd you know I'd be here?" I throw my hands in my pockets and broaden my shoulders. She blushes at my little comment.

"Well, last season we ran into each other here around this time when you needed seeds. I may have waited around today to see if you'd show. I want to know what kind of crops you are growing this season," she responds.

"Uh huh...?" I give her a look of suspicion, unsure if she is telling the truth.

"No really! I don't want anything else I promise...," I watch her look me up and down quickly, "scouts honor!" she puts two fingers together in the air instead of the three.

I cover my mouth quickly to stop me from laughing out, but I don't do a good job because I end up letting out a few chuckles.

"I think your fingers are saying otherwise," I say.

A look of confusion crosses her face.

"Not that three fingers is too many or anything..." That finally makes her clue in to what I was laughing about and throws her hand back to her side. Her face has gone beat red now.

She turns to face the shelf of seeds and proceeds to change the subject, "what seeds are we starting with. Oh, how 'bout some melons." She takes a few packs of melon seeds off the shelf and places them into my basket.

As she continues to pick out the seeds for me, I cross my arms and lean against the shelf. She has been chit-chatting away to me as she places things into my basket, not noticing I haven't said a word. She hasn't even noticed the look of adoration I have been giving her this entire time.

"-summer is usually best for sunflowers, which are like my favorite thing ever, but they also grow in fall too," she rambles on. However, that sentence makes me perk up.

"Oh yeah? You really like sunflowers?"

She nods her head aggressively.

"Hm," is all I respond with. She didn't put any sunflower seeds into my basket. Instead she moved on to the blueberries and tossed those in.

We start moving down the aisles of Pierre's store, her rambling on about whatever she can think of with me trailing right behind her like a little puppy dog. She has filled my basket to the brim with everything she has decided I should get. I haven't stopped her from putting even one thing in.

She suddenly stops in her tracks, almost causing me to bump into her. She abruptly spins around to face me. "Why do you call me 'pretty lady'?"

"Can I not call you that?"

"No no no it's not that. I'm just wondering why. Do you think I am pretty?" her eyes are twinkling up at me while she waits for her response.

"I think you're beautiful," I responded genuinely, looking down at her captivating, blue eyes.

Her mouth opens slighting to say something, but then she closes it. She keeps repeating the same process as she thinks of the right words she wants to say.

"Why have you been so nice to me since you have gotten here? I have been nothing but mean to you and you don't deserve any of it. I'm so sorry," she wipes a tear from her eye.

"You aren't being mean to me now, are you?"

"No but-"

"Unless you are going to walk out on me again without explaining why?" I try teasing. I reach my hand up and brush away another stray tear from her cheek.

"Maybe," she chuckles sadly.

"Alright I'll make way." Chuckling along with her, I move to stand off the side, going along with the bit.

"I'm sorry again for doing all of that and constantly walking out on you when we are together. It's just... I have been feeling... weird?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are we never going to talk about the day at the spa?" she blurts out.

My breath catches in my throat and I start choking on air, breaking into a fit of coughs. "You remember that?" I managed to get out.

"Surprisingly, considering I drank that whole bottle. There are some bits I don't remember, but I remember enough."

"Is this why you wanted to catch me at the store today?"

"I had promised you there was nothing more to me being here. I just happened to bring it up now."

We stand there awkwardly, none of us knowing what to say.

"I'm really sorry I put you in that situation. I'm also sorry you had to see me like that. I had just gone there to clear my head with all my confusing thoughts and then you happened to show up and..." she trails off.

"And then you were telling me you and Alex go there to screw around, taking your top off, giving me a massage and hitting on me," I finished for her. She winces and her shoes suddenly became very interesting to her. I tilt my head and wait to see what she has to say.

"Sorry..." she whispers.

"That happened a lot to me in my high school years. Girls would get plastered, think they are into girls, then try to hit on me or even try to kiss me when they are in that state. I say 'think' because all of them I've seen on social media are with a dude now. Who knows, maybe they ARE into girls and just continue to suppress it. I hope they are all happy with their choices." I give a little shrug like it's no big deal.

Haley has a look of horror on her face. She brings her hand on top of her head, smooths back her hair and puts her other hand on her hip.

"I can't believe I acted like that, oh my Yoba." she puts her face into her hands and takes a deep breath.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Alex. I know you guys aren't together right now, but just in case you guys get back together or anything..." I give her a reassuring pat on her shoulder.

She raises her face from her hands and gives me the most judgmental, but sympathetic look and starts chuckling. "Respectfully...you are really dumb, Danny."

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punsmaster69 · 1 month

Text

11/APR/20XX

a small lantern rests on the blanket, illuminating her as she sits waiting patiently in the field. it's cool out, but no breeze makes it just comfortably so. weather seems in our favor.

should i have practiced what i was going to say? maybe. is it more genuine off-the-cuff? maybe. should i have brought flowers or something? maybe.

am i stalling? maybe.

my approach goes unnoticed; the sound of my footsteps dampened in the grass.

deep breath.

"...heya."

"!"

"Sans! Greetings."

smiling warmly as she spoke. i felt my own face get just as warm.

"You are surprisingly on-time."

"what, you think i'd be late to my own invite?"

"...."

"alright, fair."

sitting beside her on the blanket.

"i'll get better about that."

"You have been improving on being late to things already."

"Showing up on time without Papyrus dragging you, even."

"i've been waking up before noon a lot lately."

"Shocking."

"getting dressed for stuff, holding schedules, going places willingly..."

"slowly turnin' into a whole new guy."

"And all it took was almost dying. Who knew?"

"pfft. that probably didn't help."

"though, uh."

"something else happened."

"something other than near-death."

"Hm?"

"Is Papyrus enacting another regimen?"

her head lilts slightly with confusion as i shake my skull "no".

"just started... trying."

shrug.

"started 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴."

"...You did not, before?"

smile faltering slightly at the corners.

"neither here nor there."

a quiet nod of understanding.

"What changed?"

"......"

"could write down a list of different reasons for each person we know."

"that'd be a lot to 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵en to, though."

"Is this what you have been stuck thinking about?"

"would you be shocked to hear that's only a part of it, again?"

"...I get that."

giggling a bit.

my soul feels like it's at tugging me to continue.

....

never been one to do everything exact - skipping a few steps is my nature.

"......"

"can i kiss you?"

was a bit blunter than i meant to be.

tori doesn't even move for a few seconds as it processes.

".......?!"

her face flushes, eyes widening with shock.

"Er-"

"Y-Yes!"

i sit up onto my knees, pausing to look her in the eyes.

"sorry 'bout my lack of lips."

"I have not minded before."

my soul feels like it catches fire. it isn't burning hot. just pleasantly warm.

"..let's grow fat and old together, alright?"

"I would love to."

———

"how did my mom come home covered in blue lipstick"

- frisk

#undertale #journal #sans #toriel #toriel x sans #sans x toriel #soriel #frisk #soon.

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lttlegore · 13 days

Text

im fried | d. dennis

you and your friend are in the club and you spot future… or you think you do.

the lights were dim, a little too dim some may say, but it didnt help that you were drunk either. too drunk, and well maybe a little high too.

“bro, is that future ?” you say to your friend, pulling her close, your eyes wide as you point to the dreaded man standing in the vip section.

“bitch!” she exclaims jumping up and down. “it is oh my god! OH MY GOD!”

a grin finds its way to your face as you look at her.

“im the shit bitch i know.” you say smugly. “ im going to go ask for a picture come one.”

you feel her hand grab your belt loop as she follows you throughout the sea of people, a chorus of excuse me’s and sorry’s stream from your lips as you finally get to the edge of his section. as you are looking up at him you notice the diamond smile he had on his face.

“sir, sir excuse me” you say, well yell. the noise was deafening.

he glances down at you and the smile widens.

“yes gorgeous.” he says, a slight southern drawl playing on his tongue and from the sound of that you should have know that it was indeed not mr hendrix as you had initially anticipated.

“ i love your music!” you say exclaim happily.

“ im sorry, what you say?” he questions leaning down over the edge of the wall that was between you two.

“ i love your music,” you say getting closer to his ear giggling. “ cause i am fried yes fried and very fucked up” you recite the lyrics back to him.

a deep laugh errupts from his as he stands back up causing you to look at him quizzically.

“so, can i get a picture?” you yell, confusion setting in.

“ yeah, yall come on up here sweetheart.” he says the word sending shivers down your spine. he motions for you and your friend to come.

he walks over and meets you at the entrance signaling the man guarding it that you could enter.

you immediately go in for a hug without thinking and your friend who is prepared snaps the picture.

“ oh ok, damn.” he laughs wrapping his arms around you large hands gripping your waist. you cant help but bask in his scent. it exudes sex and masculinity. it smells exactly as he look.

“you smell so good.” you say looking up at him head still resting on his chest.

the look he gives you says it all. “ thank ya.” he says smiling at you then licks his lips.

“ yo friend want one too mama?” he asks lowly eyes still locked on yours.

“oh, shit yeah.” you say pulling away, sighing at the loss of his body against yours.

“here girl.” you say reaching for the phone.

she goes over and just wraps her arm around his waist and his over her shoulder, the other going up into a peace sign. a sense of satisfaction arises in you as you see he didnt embrace her just like he did you but leaves as soon as you see the big smile on her face. she was happy for you and you the same for her, besides he wasnt your man anyway.

you click a few pictures and then she pulls away and thanks him coming back over to you and grabbing the phone to look at them

“yall wanna chill with us for a lil bit?” he asks motioning to the group of guys surrounding him.

“yeah.” you reply without even realizing, looking at your friend and she nods too.

“type shit” he says. you both follow him to the couch and as he sits he leaves room for you both on the side of him.

“so where yall from?” he asks looking between the both of you.

“ texas, but we go to school out here!” your friend answers smiling.

“type shit, what yall studying?” he asks curiosity genuine.

“im working on my masters in business and she is currently working on a phd in biology.” she says motioning to you. “she really smart as hell. tell him bout your research” she says smirking at you and you smile in response, her way of saying he yours girl.

his eyes widens as he look at you and you begin to explain, “ uh yeah my thesis is on the rate of duplication in cancer cells in african americans.”

“oh shit, you gone be a doctor.” he asks.

“thats the goal but i dont know shit is crazy.” you say staring at him. as you look you start to realize he is lacking nose piercings and the signature blond on his dreads.

your eyes widen as you come to the realization. “oh my God youre not future.” you exclaim standing up.

a loud laugh erupts from him and your friend stand up as well when she realizes this and she moves to your side.

“thats who you thought i was?” he is able to say between his laugh.

embarrassment burns through your body at this and you begin slightly angry.

“obviously!” you say irritation heavy in your voice.

as he notices this his laugh stops and smile drops.

“yo calm down.” he says reaching a hand out to grab yours and you pull away disgust on your face.

“dont fucking touch me.” you say grabbing your friend. “come on lets go.” you say grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the exit.

“what the fuck.” you hear him say behind you. you dont care, not only did he laugh at you, he lied to you. or at least in your eyes he did and that alone was enough to piss you off and ruin your night- your high too.

yall im really rusty at writing but i got the idea for this when i was high & i think i wanna do another part or two ! let me know what yall think cause there aint enough on here about dada

#amp #duke dennis #duke dennis x reader #kai cenat #gaming #fanfic #fanum tax

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testingthewatersss · 5 months

Text

Where you left me Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 4 4680 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

You decide that this is definitely permanent

And that’s exactly what they do. For another 4 hours, everything is peaceful. The pair remain nestled under blankets on the newly decorated couch, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky dreams of summer. He dreams of cloudless skies, and warm light on his skin; it’s soothing, and when he finally blinks his eyes open, he’s surprised that the heat he’s been feeling is real, it’s the trailing of Y/N’s fingers up, and down the exposed skin of his forearm. It’s the kiss of her lips on his brow.

“Christ” he whispers, voice cracking from disuse, “Doll, how long have you been up?”

She beams down at him, and flicks a glance at the clock, before shrugging a fraction, and kissing him again.

“bout an hour”

He thinks she looks like an angel. She’s always beautiful, of course, but there’s something about the way she’s smiling at him, with the light from the windows illuminating her features, with a few stray curls hanging loosely in front of her cheeks, that he thinks makes her look ethereal.

“You’re starring” she says cooly, flicking a jovial glance over her shoulder as if she isn’t plainly aware that she is the subject of his admiration, “did I hang somethin’ crooked?”

He humours her with a scoff, before rolling over so he’s poised above her on his elbows.

Her hands drift up, they cup his cheeks almost instantly, and he finds himself blushing, prickling with heat under her examination.

“You look good” Bucky hears her coo, “Really good”

Oh, god.

The praise in her voice is enough to make the warmth in his cheeks become a raging fire, spreading down, straight to his chest, making his heart stammer in response.

“I… I guess sleepin’ suites me.” he forces out awkwardly, averting his eyes with a shy attempt at a smile.

Y/N laughs softly, stroking her thumbs across his temples.

“I don’t know” she says, “I think you’re pretty beautiful when you’re exhausted too, maybe it’s bein’ comfortable that’s a good look on you”

“maybe” he agrees quietly, before ducking his head down lower in a bid to disguise his bashfulness.

She loves they affectionate display, her fingers slip up into his hair as he nuzzles at her throat, earnestly relishing in the contact, and the moment of quiet.

“I’ve gotta talk to Nat” she says suddenly, “do you think she’ll be around?”

Bucky’s head snaps upwards, eyes wide and curious. His expression silences her mid sentence, as she snaps her own head to the side.

“Maybe, doll, whatcha’ need her for?”

“because” she replies, “she’s got the number for that real estate agent that SHEILD use for safe houses-”

The line between his brow deepens, so she lets herself grow quiet again.

Doubt prickles in her chest for moment, when she catches herself, and realises that she hasn’t actually spoken to him about the permanence of this ‘temporary’ visit.

“Sorry… I, uh… We… we should talk things through, I-”

“You’re sorry?” Bucky repeats, genuinely confused, “Y/N/N, what are ya’ talking about?”

“We need to talk, sweetheart, about all this” she says, rubbing her nose against his to try and offset some of the anxiety she suspects this conversation is triggering, “about me staying, Buck- staying-”

“For good?” he cuts in, hope making his voice an octave higher than usual, “or… or have you changed your mind?”

That possibility strikes him like a punch in the ribs. The optimism he’d experienced for a second, when he’d first deciphered her words leaves him instantly, and he finds himself clinging to waist with a little more strength.

He considers apologising for his behaviour, even though he’s not sure what he might have done during the night to have spurred her imminent departure. He considers skipping that step, all together and just flat out pleading with her to stay with him regardless.

“Honey” Y/N says, snapping his attention firmly back to her, “Of course I haven’t changed my mind”

The breath leaves his lungs in a deep, relieved sigh.

“I’ve just been thinkin’” she continues, “I’m not sure I want this to be temporary, and I don’t want to presume, I- I don’t think you want me to go, but-”

“I don’t” Bucky inserts urgently, “I… god, doll… I- I don’t want ya to leave”

Her smile is wide, it’s genuine and beautiful and he can’t stop starring as he waits for her response.

Part of him is still expecting some type of rejection, a gentle shake of her head followed by an explanation of how he’s misunderstood, seems possible, likely, even but all he gets instead is a kiss agains the fingers she’s holding, as she guides them up to her cheek.

“Good” Y/N coos, squeezing his palm “I kinda cleared it with T yesterday, but I should probably get that number, see if I can get the ball rollin’ on at least rentin’ my place out, no point in keepin’ it empty, drawers more attention that way”

Bucky is beaming when she looks at his face again, it’s involuntary, she’s known him long enough to be able to read that, to read that this isn’t one of his deliberate smiles, it’s not a mask, or a tool to distract or assure someone else of his wellbeing, it’s a totally humane response that he’s not even trying to hide, and she thinks, that that makes it all the more beautiful.

She closes her eyes when he kisses her, it’s intense, it’s precious and it’s clear from the sweet noises he makes against her lips that he’s trying his best to tell her something, even though she’s not sure what, exactly that might be.

“I” he murmurs, the second they break apart “I fuckin’ love you”

She laughs beneath him, before pecking at his cheek,

“Glad to hear it, Sarge, since you’re kinda stuck with me”

His heart swells at her voice, it swells at her term of address and again, at the reality of her statement.

She’s staying, she’s not going to up and leave him when she thinks he doesn’t need her anymore.

“What are you smilin’ at?”

“You” Bucky says honestly, “It’s always you”

“I’ll be sure to tell Steve” Y/N snorts playfully, “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear-”

“He’s always thrilled” he replies, “Kid’s like a damn Labrador most of the time”

“You sound like Tony” Y/N says, “you been spendin’ too much time in the labs?”

“I don’t go to the labs” Bucky counters, “not without you”

“ I thought you were supposed to go every few weeks?”

Her tone is almost accusing, it makes guilt flare hot and sudden in his cheeks. His gaze drops, heart plummeting.

“Hey” she soothes, running her fingers across his knuckles, “What’s that?”

“I’m sorry” he whispers, voice cracking, “I know that was the plan”

She nods. It had been part of the plan they’d set up a while ago, when he’d first mentioned the pain he often experienced across his metal arm.

Phantom limb syndrome, compromised tendons, un-capped wires and exposed nerves, alongside the reality of having a deep, old scar that had been put through decades of cryogenic freezing had meant that sometimes it wasn’t just nightmares keeping Bucky awake for hours on end.

Y/N had been the first to learn about this, about how sometimes the joint of his shoulder burned just as intensely as it had when he’d first woken up, and realised he didn’t have his own arm anymore.

She’d taken him to Bruce, who’d called Tony, who’d called Steve, who’d sat awkwardly on his right, whilst everyone had discussed the options and eventually decided that monitoring was the best way of creating a plan that wasn’t going to push Bucky too close to the edge.

“It was” she agrees softly, “But the only reason there was a plan in the first place, was to help you- it was yours, baby, you never had to do anything”

He nods, biting his lip.

“Is it still hurtin’ you?” Y/N asks, “Or has it settled?”

She knows it’s unlikely that a sudden recovery is the reason for his avoidance of the medical suites in the tower, but it seems like something worth asking anyway.

“I’m fine…” is his immediate response, the tone in which he says it is so robotic that it takes even him by surprise, Y/N barely has to quirk her brow before he inhales, and re-evaluates his answer, “… It’s not bad right now, it… it comes and goes”

That, is believable, so she nods-

“It’s comin’ more than it’s goin’ lately” he confesses next, “I just couldn’t make myself go up there, Y/N/N… I knew I should- it- it was all set up but, but I- I just couldn’t-”

“I would’ve come with you” she reminds him, “if you’d have asked”

“I know, doll” He offers her a tight lipped smile, “I just, didn’t want to bother ya’”

Her face shifts to something equal parts sad, and understanding, before she guides his cheeks down, so that she can press a gentle kiss against his brow.

“You never bother me” she murmurs against his skin, before reaching up to brush his hair back, with the same kind of tenderness as she had during that night, “I promise.”

The genuinity behind her words silences him. He’s heard it all before, not even just from her, Steve, has spent plenty of time assuring him that he’s not a burden, hell, he’s sure every resident in the tower has told him something similar at one point or another, but he doesn’t think it’s ever hit him with as much force, as this.

“I’ll tell ya…” he whispers, “…when it next flares up”

“Please” Y/N agrees, letting him retreat to the crook of her neck, to the place where he’d spent the majority of the night, “you’ve gotta let me help you, sweetheart”

“I don’t deserve ya” he whispers, “I really don’t, doll- you, you do too much-”

“Stop” she murmurs, feeling the tension building in his upper body, “Baby, I don’t do anythin’… I just, I just love you…”

“That’s plenty”

Y/N chuckles a little at that, before shaking her head and palming at the back of his neck, to try and ease some of the strain from his muscles.

He melts at the contact, every fibre of his being lurching out towards her in an insane rush of affection.

“You gotta promise me somethin’, Y/N/N”

She hums, watching as he curls around her front, to blink at her sweetly from his position against her chest.

“You’ll tell me, if, if I do somethin- or, or if it all gets too much-”

Part of her wants to cut him off, to assure him that he won’t do anything, that it won’t all suddenly become more than she can handle, but there’s something about his expression keeps her silent, with one hand in his, and the other, starting to comb through a tangle of his curls.

“I can’t… I… I couldn’t…” he continues, “I don’t want to be on my own again, I- I don’t think I could live, live without you…”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Y/N whispers, feeling his sheer sincerity, “…please don’t worry about that, you’re never goin’ to be alone again, I promise, I’m not goin’ anywhere”

“If I do somethin’ wrong please just, please just tell me, I- I won’t have meant to-”

“You wont” she’s quick to soothe, “Bucky, we’ve been over this, you’re not goin’ to do anythin-”

“Please” he insists, “Just, just promise you’ll- you’ll give me a chance to- to put it right, if I- If I-”

“Alright” Y/N agrees, sensing his increasing desperation, “Alright, I promise, baby, I- I promise”

He blinks at her, shocked but grateful for her assurances, before nodding shakily, and inhaling deeply through his nose.

“Can you promise me something, too?” she asks carefully, watching the way he’s staring up at her from his position.

He nods again, even though he doesn’t know exactly what she’s asking for.

“You’ve gotta keep trying to let me in” she begins, “You’ve gotta tell me, when something’s botherin’ you, tell me, when you need somethin’, baby, you don’t have to pretend you’re alright when you’re not.”

“I… I’m scared, doll” he admits, “It’s… It’s like I said yesterday, I— I don’t want you to see what a mess I am-”

“I know, and I know you didn’t have a choice for a long time, I know you’re not used to opening up, and I know that terrifies you, but you’ve gotta try, you’ve gotta try and trust me-”

“I do” Bucky cuts in, “I do trust you, Y/N/N, more, more than I’ve ever trusted anyone, ‘cept maybe Steve,- it’s, it’s just a hard habit to break..”

The woman who he’s settled on nods, understanding, and gives his palm a comforting squeeze.

“But, I’ll try” he tells her, “I promise, I’ll try and get better about sayin’ somethin’, it- it’s easier for me, to, to let that guard down with you… you always seem t’know when something’s wrong anyway”

Y/N smiles at that, bringing their entwined fingers up to her lips, so that she can press a kiss against his knuckles. Her eyes drift down, to the soft fabric of the sweater he’s wearing, she smoothes it down across his chest,

“You asked me if you can keep it” she says, “Durin’ the night, do’ya remember?”

Bucky ducks his head, bashful, as a soft noise of agreement leaves the base of his throat.

“Guess I can’t believe my luck”

The scoff she gives him is gentle, it’s affectionate and airy, and it makes the heat start to dissipate from his cheeks.

“It’s just a jumper, sweetheart”

“Not to me” he counters, meeting her eyes again, “I… I didn’t have things, before, doll, and I- I never put much stock in buyin’ stuff when I got out- I, I took what I was given and was grateful, I don’t think I could ever tell ya’ how much it means to me, the room, and, and the clothes-”

“You’re a sap, Barnes” Y/N teases, kissing his cheek, “anyone ever told you that?”

He chuckles silently, grateful for her joking, and the way it’s lightening the previously thick atmosphere.

“No, I don’t think they have”

“I’m not sure I’m buyin’ what you’re sellin, I’ll have to ask Rodgers later”

“You do that, doll” Bucky says, kissing her lips before making the move to stand, “bring him a squeaky toy, and he’ll tell ya’ whatever ya’ want”

She lands a playful swat on his ass, as he turns to grin down at where she’s sprawled across the couch.

“Coffee?” he asks, still beaming, “I guess I should try and figure out that machine”

“You definitely should” she agrees, rolling over and grabbing her cell phone from the coffee table, “Since I’m gonna be a permanent fixture, and I refuse to drink powdered decaf for the rest of our lives.”

By the time he goes to rejoin her, two steaming mugs of real espresso in his grasp, Bucky’s cheeks are aching from how long he’s been smiling.

Y/N’s expression is similar, even though he thinks it’s infinitely more beautiful, especially in the increasing daylight.

Her bare legs are kicked up over his, the TV is back on, the news chattering on at a low volume-

There’s a strike, at the postal office, and a newly elected member of the democratic party seems to be trying to garner some support.

The pair make half-interested conversation about the topics, and the enjoyable mundaneness of the day they plan on having.

“Nat says she can have an agent handle listing my apartment” Y/N announces, when the weather crosses the screen for the second time, “She says it’s probably safer that way, less chance of HYDRA linkin’ me to it, if anythin’ got out about the move”

He tries not to tense at the sound of the word on her lips. He makes a quiet noise of consideration, and lets his free hand trail up, across her shin.

“I’m not sure it matters, to be honest” she sighs next, “They know about us already, we haven’t exactly been hiding”

“Still” Bucky grunts, “Romanoff knows what she’s talkin’ about, if she thinks it’s better to let SHEILD take care of it-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right… I guess I just feel bad, wastin’ peoples time on somethin’ so trivial, y’know?”

“Your safety isn’t trivial” Tony says firmly, over 3 hours later, when Y/N broaches the same concerns in the common room, “Christ, I’ve hired agents for-”

“I don’t care what you, pay people to do, Tony” Y/N/N argues calmly, “and I’m plenty safe.”

Bucky is sitting a few metres away, beside Steve on the dark leather couches that occupy the far end of the room. He shares a strained glance with his friend, before returning his attention to where his girl and Tony are still bickering by the refrigerator.

“I don’t know why you’re makin’ a big deal out of this” Y/N says, “I can handle packing my own boxes-”

“Nobody is sayin’ you’re not capable” Natasha inserts, speaking for the first time in awhile, “we’re just sayin’ that maybe you shouldn’t”

Frustration makes Y/N’s cheeks burn red, she runs a hand through her hair, and grabs the open bottle of orange juice from Tony’s hands, taking a swig before putting it down on the counter with a little more force than had been necessary.

“You can’t keep me here indefinitely” she says, making deliberate eye contact with the billionaire in front of her, “I am going to have to leave, at some point, y’know? to work, or to get-”

“I thought you said you can work from the labs?” Steve asks- The way she glares at him instantly making him wish he’d stayed silent.

“HA!” Tony chortles, thrilled, “I knew you-”

“I am not leaving the hospital for good!” she refutes, “just because I could take a non-clinical role does not mean that I’m going to do that long term.”

“Stark industries will pay you more than-”

“It’s not about money, T, I know you’d give me a hell of a salary”

“Then why-”

“Because” she sighs, “I help people at the hospital, Tony- I know I help people here, too- but, it’s different, and I’m not willing to stop doing a job that I’m good at just because me leaving your tower makes you a little antsy”

“a little antsy” Tony quotes, in a mocking voice, “can you back me up here?” he shoots an exasperated look at his friends, lingering a little longer on Rodgers’ “you-”

“I-” Y/N cuts in, drawing all the eyes in the room back to her “Have managed to keep myself safe, whilst living in the outside world for years. You are not going to stand there and pretend that this is the first time in my life my relationships have put me in danger.”

That is a little bit of a low blow. She feels a sting of guilt when she catches the look behind her oldest friend’s eyes. Her expression softens, she leans in to kiss his cheek.

“I know you worry, Tony” she allows, “but just because I’m movin’ in doesn’t mean you can keep me locked up here for the rest of my life”

“How about just for the rest of mine?” he offers, tone deliberately playful.

She knows it’s his way of apologising, of making amends, and telling her he doesn’t mean to be difficult.

Her hip bumps his, as she moves past him, to lean against the pool table, that’s only a few feet from Bucky and Steve.

They’re watching her with a mutual curiosity that she can’t help but snigger at.

“What?” she pokes, “why’re you both lookin’ at me like that?”

“Like what?” they say in unison.

Tony’s cackle makes Natasha roll her eyes.

“Like I’m new app on your cell that you can’t figure out.”

The duo look at each other, and then back at Y/N. She waits patiently, until Steve finally speaks.

“What’d you mean, darl?” he asks, “when you said it’s not the first time your relationships have put you in danger?”

It’s the way that he looks at Tony that makes her laugh this time. She quirks her brow and tilts her head,

“Are you askin’ her if she’s slept with me?” Stark cuts in, almost choking on the words.

Natasha scoffs, perching on the large window sill, ready to watch the interaction unfold.

“I wasn’t-”

“Yes you were” Bucky counters, rolling his eyes, “I wasn’t, doll, but-”

“Thanks Buck” Steve gristles, ignoring the urge to grin when Barnes lets his shoulder knock against his,

“No” Y/N answers calmly, “I haven’t had the pleasure”

“Though if my dad had, had his way we’d have probably been married by now” Tony inserts, ignoring the playful shove of Y/N’s hands against his waist as he scoots up beside her, “couple of kids, maybe a cat-”

“I hate cats” she reminds him, “and, if we’d have gotten married, you’d be long dead by now.”

Stark feigns a look of hurt, clutching his chest to convey his false offence.

“Oh come on” she coos, “you gonna pretend you wouldn’t have at least tried to smother me in my sleep if we’d been paired up like that?”

“Never” he says, “But, I might have tried to poison you once or twice”

“I’d have shot ya’ first” Y/N tells him, “you’d have never gotten the chance”

“Ha!” he snorts, “You’d’ve never gotten away with it, way too-”

“Oh yes I would” she counters, cool, “I’d have gotcha in your study, maybe even at the office, gotten the angle right, faked a note, the stress of a company like yours, Tony, it gets to the best of people, and well, we all know you’re troubled…”

“Troubled” he repeats, awed by the fake emotion in her voice, “You’re evil”

She laughs then, and he joins her, head falling to her shoulder.

“You two are insane” Natasha comments, almost fondly, “if your father really wanted you to get hitched-”

“Oh he did” Y/N allows, “I’m from good stock, and he thought I’d straighten him out”

Bucky has heard this before, in passing more than anything else, he’s still curious though, he rarely hears about Y/N’s past with Tony, despite how close they are. He suspects she holds back to try and stop him from feeling uncomfortable, despite how undeserving of her protection he feels.

“Yeah” Tony says, replying to a question Romanoff had put forth during Barnes’ moment of distraction, “she was always hangin’ around, couldn’t get rid of her”

Y/N snorts at that, looking down at where Stark is nestled into her flank as if to excentuate his attachment;

“You” she says, “are the one who kept inviting me over”

“father’s orders” he lies, “wanted me to court ya’ early”

“That is such horse-shit!” she exclaims, half laughing again, “you just liked havin’ someone to show off too”

He shrugs, “always asked for a sister when I was a kid, and I always got what I wanted”

She lets her eyes roll, even though the affection of his words makes her smile wide.

“Did you know his folks well, Y/N/N?” Steve asks, broaching the subject for the first time.

“Not his mother” she replies, “I was pretty close with Howard, though, always had time to show me what he was workin’ on-”

“That’s my old man” Tony says, “anythin’ for a pretty face”

“shut up” she scoffs, bumping his hip with her own again, “he was a good man,” she continues, looking at Steve, “took me under his wing when my parents got sick, I was about 11, and I turned up on his door, and-”

“I told you to stay” Tony recalls, “I told you we’d go ask him together”

“yeah” she chuckles, “turns out we didn’t even have to ask, he’d already heard about the whole thing, he just gave me pat on the back and showed me to my room”

“That was a great summer” he says, nostalgic, “apart from-”

“Apart from my parents dying” Y/N laughs again, shaking her head at his expression, “yes, I suppose it was.”

“he tried to get me to stay, after their funeral” she continues, looking back at the duo on the couch, “they both did” she adds, nodding at Tony, “but, I was young, and wanted to try goin’ it alone”

“You never told me that” Bucky says, speaking for the first time in awhile.

He’d known about her parents, she’d told him about their deaths when they’d first met, and about how she’d gone back to her aunts aged 11, and been sent to a private boarding school, to finish growing up.

“You never asked” she replies calmly, “Howard kept an eye out though, he payed for me to stay at the academy, I only came back when…”

“when he died” Tony finishes for her, remember the way she’d run from a private jet and flung her arms around him, “I’m surprised the flight got you home so quick, in that storm”

She chuckles, remembering too.

“That was a hell of a storm” she agrees, recalling the harsh rain, and how it had splashed on the runway tarmac around them “It came down like bullets”

“Yeah” Tony murmurs, pawing at his goatie to hide his sudden emotion, “yeah, it did”

“I offered to stay” she tells Steve after a pause, because she knows he’s wondering, “but-”

“I wouldn’t let her, said she should go back to school, said I’d make sure it kept gettin’ paid for”

“I was so pissed!” she laughs, the light sound cutting through the air in the room like music, making a smile tug at Tony’s lips, “I had no idea the Stark’s had been footin’ the bill all that time! I thought my folks had left me a fund or-”

“The look on your face” Tony chimes in, “that was the first time I’d smiled in days”

“because I was calling you a jack-ass?” she asks, half disbelieving, “I’d been calling you that, and worse since we were little kids”

“Exactly”

Their eyes meet, and just like that, they could be teenagers again, talking about anything over a stolen bottle of malt whiskey.

Y/N shakes her head, but keeps the soft smile on her lips, even as her attention flicks back to Steve, and Bucky, who, she notes, is trying not to meet her eyes.

“anyway” she says, “to answer your first question properly, Steve- I have never been romantically involved with Tony, but that doesn’t mean being his friend hasn’t put me in some precarious situations over the years”

“precarious situations” Natasha repeats, quirking a brow at Tony, who deliberate turns away, “like what?”

Y/N shrugs,

“I was a freelancer for SHEILD too” she reminds her, “Once upon a time, and not for very long”

“That wasn’t anythin’ to do with me” Tony objects, “I believe I strictly forbid you to-”

Bucky has to disguise his laugh as a cough. He knows Y/N well enough to know that there is no surer way of making her do something, that strictly forbidding it.

Tony squints at him distastefully, but otherwise ignores him in favour of sticking his fingers in his ears and childishly chanting over Y/N’s explanation of how she had been dragged into SHEILD as part of Tony’s disobedience during his first personality screening.

“You’re such a brat” she scolds, pulling his hands away from his head, trying not to laugh at his smug expression, “and my point still stands, T, I love you too, but I am a grown woman, who can handle herself, and I am not letting you get into the habit of hiding me away in this building”

“Fine” he surrenders with a huff, “Fine, but I am tellin’ you, that if you do anythin’ to get yourself hurt, I will kill you”

“Fair enough” Y/N allows, leaning into the kiss he places on her brow, “kill me all you want”

1 | 2 | 3 | x | 5 | 6

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #series #BBwhereyouleftme

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layce2015 · 1 year

Text

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Route 666

Masterlist

"Ok. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here. We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought." Sam said as he and I look over a road map that was laying on the hood of the Impala. "Yeah. Problem is, we're not going to Pennsylvania." Dean said and Sam and I look over at him, confused, as he pockets his phone.

"We what?" Sam and I asked in unison.

"I just got a call from an, uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing." Dean replied. "What?" I asked. "Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, never, if she didn't need us." Dean said as he starts to get into the car, but Sam and I don't move.

"Come on, are you guys coming or not?" Dean asked. Sam and I exchange a look before I shrug at him then we get in the car and take off.

"By old friend you mean...?" Sam started to ask but Dean talks over him. "A friend that's not new." He said. "Oh yeah, thanks." Sam said, sarcastically. "So her name's Cassie huh? You never mentioned her..." I said to Dean, suspiciously. "Didn't I?" Dean asked and Sam and I look at Deam, expectantly.

"Yeah, we went out." Dean admits and I swallowed this suddenly large lump that came up in my throat. Sam looks over at me like he wanted to say did I hear that right? I nod slightly as I turn to Dean.

"You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night." I said to him. "Am I speaking a language you're not getting here?" Dean asked, annoyed, and I raised my hands up. "Just askin'. Geez." I said and Dean sighs.

"Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a couple of weeks." Dean replies. "And...?" Sam and I asked, in unison, and Dean shrugs slightly.

"Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do." Sam said. "Which by the way, how does she know what we do?" I asked Dean and he looks up at the rearview mirror at me, shifty, and my jaw drops as I realized what he was hinting.

"You told her." I said, shocked, and Sam looks at him. "You told her, the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything?" Sam asked, slightly angry.

Dean stays silent, staring straight ahead at the road. "Dean!" I shouted. "Yeah. Looks like." Dean said and he continues to stare ahead while Sam and I exchange a you gotta be kidding me? look.

"Jimmy, you're too close to this. Those guys were friends of yours. Again, Cassie, I'm very sorry for your loss." A man said as the boys and I walk into the office and see this man talking to two African Americans, one man and one young woman. The two men walks away while the girl sighs then turns to us and her sights were set on Dean.

"Dean." She said, still staring at him, while Dean nods and grins at her. "Hey Cassie." Dean said and the two of them continue to stare at each other for a long moment. Sam and I watch this and I couldn't help but feel like something was boiling inside of me. Like something hot, boiling lava.

I swallowed this large lump in my throat and look over at Sam, who was smiling. I give him a confused look before Dean clears his throat and speaks. "This my brother Sam." Dean said as he gestures to Sam. Cassie smiles at Sam, who returns one of his own, then Dean turns to me and I could've sworn I saw a worried and nervous look on his face. "And this is our best friend, (y/n)." Dean introduced and she turns to me.

She gives me a smile but it wasn't as genuine as the one she gave Sam. I give her a smile and a small wave at her. "Hey." I introduced. She nods then turns back to Dean. "Sorry bout your dad." Dean said to her. "Yeah. Me too." Cassie said.

Later, we ended up at Cassie's house and she comes in her living room, carrying a tray of tea and cups for us. "My mothers in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad." She said.

"Why?" Dean asked her as she pours us some tea.

"He was scared. He was seeing things." She replied.

"Like what?" I asked her and she gives me a slight glare before she replies. "He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him." She said. "A truck. Who was the driver?" Sam asked as she hands us a cup of tea. "He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big." She replied

"Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?" Sam asked as I look over at Dean and see him looking at his cup of tea like it's an alien, then quickly deposits it on a side table and I chuckle under my breath.

"He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car...leading right to the edge, where he went over." Cassie said and she bows her head, getting her emotions under control.

"One set of tracks. His." She said.

"The first was a friend of your fathers?" I asked and she looks over at me and nods. "Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He lost control of his car." She replied.

"Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?" Dean asked her.

"No." She replied.

"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?" I asked her. "When you say it aloud like that..." she said with a snide then let's out a scoff as she shakes her head a bit. "...listen, I'm a little skeptical about this...ghost stuff...or whatever it is you guys are into." She said while I sit here wondering why she's giving me attitude.

"Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts." Dean huffs at her. "That was then." Cassie said and they stare at each other again. "I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you." She said as a door opens and a middle aged woman enters.

The boys and I rise to our feet, and Cassie goes to the woman and takes her arm. "Mom. Where have you been I was so..." Cassie said and her mom looks at us. "I had no idea you'd invited friends over." She said. "Mom, this is Dean, a...friend of mine from.... college. And his brother Sam and their...friend, (y/n)." She introduced us. "Well I won't interrupt you." said her mother.

"Mrs Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?" Dean said and Mrs Robinson looks over at him. "I'm really not up for that right now." She said, slightly affronted, then she leaves the room.

The next day, Cassie calls Dean and told him that the man we saw in the office with her, Jimmy, had died in a similar way as her dad. We meet up with her in a field where there were tons of emergency vehicles around and the boys and I walk out of the car and go over to Cassie, who was talking to the same man from yesterday.

"Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car, see if it was pushed?" Dean asked Cassie as we walk up behind us. "Who's this?" The man asked Cassie. "Dean and Sam Winchester and (y/n). Family friends." She replied then she turns to us and points at the man. "This is Mayor Harold Todd." She introduced.

"There's one set of tire tracks. One....doesn't point to foul play." Todd said and Cassie turns to him. "Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about..." she said and Todd looks at her offended. "Indifferent!" He exclaims.

"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" Cassie asked him, angrily, and Todd's jaw drops. "You suggesting I'm racist, Cassie? I'm the last person you should talk to like that." He said.

"And why is that?" Cassie asked. "Why don't you ask your mother." Todd spat at her and he walks away, leaving us standing in the field.

*3rd Person POV*

"I'll say this for her, she's fearless." Sam said to Dean as he finished getting dressed in a suit and grabbed his jacket while Dean was fixing his tie. "Mm-hmm." Dean hums as he looks at himself in a mirror.

"Bet she kicked your ass a couple of times." Sam said, grinning, and Dean glances at him then returns to the mirror. "What's interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the same time. You look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away. But then you look over at (y/n) right after, like you're nervous or worried." Sam said and Dean stops and swallows.

Truth is, Dean was feeling conflicted between the two girls. Seeing Cassie again had brought back some old memories and feelings he thought were long gone. But this feeling he's held for (y/n) for a while is growing and fighting with his other feelings. He had noticed that Cassie was acting a bit cold towards (y/n) but (y/n) seemed either not bothered by it or she was just acting professional.

"It's just a...just an interesting observation in a....you know...observationally interesting way." Sam said as Dean comes back from his thoughts then he sighs. "You think we might have more pressing issues here?" He asked Sam.

"Hey, if I'm hitting a nerve." Sam said just as there was a knock at the door of the hotel room.

Dean turns to the door and answers it, which made his heart jump into his throat. (Y/n) was standing there in a similar black suit as him and Sam only she didn't have a tie and the first two or three buttons of her white blouse were unbuttoned where you could see her cleavage but not too much of it where it wasn't too distracting.

"Well, do I look professional?" She asked, smiling, and Dean had to shake himself out of his thoughts. "You look great." Dean compliments and she smiles at this. "Let's go." Dean said and he walks out of the room and (y/n) follows him while Sam snickers.

*(y/n)'s POV*

The boys and I were walking down a pier where we see two elderly gentlemen eating lunch. "Excuse me. Are you Ron Stubbins?" Sam asked one of the men. Ron nods. "You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?" I asked him and Ron looks between us.

"Who are you?" He asked. "We're Mr Anderson's insurance company. We're just here to dot 'I's' and cross 'T's'." Dean said. "We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?" Sam asked them.

"What do you mean, unusual?" Ron asked. "Well visions, halluinations." I clarified. "It's part of a medical examination kind of thing. All very standard." Dean said but Ron continued to give us suspicious look.

"What company did you say you were with?" He asked us. "All National Mutual." Dean replied, quickly. "Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?"

"What the hell you talking about? You even speaking English?" Ron asked before he walks off then his friend chimes in. "Son this truck, a big scary monster looking thing?" The friend asked. "Yeah actually, I think so." Dean replied.

"Hmm." The man hums, thoughtfully. "What?" I asked him. "I have heard of a truck like that." The guy said.

"You have. Where?" Sam asked. "Not where. When. Back in the '60s there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck." The man replied.

"They ever catch the guy who did it?" Dean asked him. "Never found him. Hell, not sure they even really looked. See there was a time, this town wasn't too friendly to all it's citzens." The man replied. "Thank you." I said and the boys and I make our way back down the pier to the Impala

"Truck." Dean mutters. "Keeps coming up doesn't it?" I asked. "You know, I was thinking. You guys heard of the flying dutchman?" Dean asked Sam and I. "Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him." Sam replied.

"So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes." Dean said.

"The victims have all been black men." I pointed out. "I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family." Dean said. "All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her." Sam said to him. "Yeah I will." Dean said after he glances at me for a moment.

"Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing." I said and he looks back at me. "What other thing?" He asked. "The serious, unfinished business?" I said but Dean remains obstinately silent.

"Dean, what is going on between you two?" Sam asked Dean. "All right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said." Dean replied and Sam and I keep staring at him while I raise an eyebrow. "Oh, Ok." Sam and I said and Dean sighs. "OK, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have." Dean said.

"Ah look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime." Sam said to him. "Yeah I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended." Dean said and I could tell that he was heartbroken about it. And this made my heart sink while Sam smiled at Dean.

"Would you two stop!" Dean said, annoyed, but Sam and I keep staring at him. "Blink or something!" Dean shouts at us. "You loved her." Sam said and Dean rolls his eyes. "Oh God." He mutters as he turns to the Impala. "You were in love with her, but you dumped her." Sam said as we follow Dean.

Dean stays silent as he stares at the ground then glances at me then at Sam, then looks back to the ground. My eyes widen at this and I said. "She dumped you."

"Get in the car." Dean said as he gets in the car, himself, while Sam and I stand there. "Get in the car!" He yells and Sam and I get in the car while I felt this burning sensation in my chest grow.

*3rd Person POV*

Cassie sits at the desk in the lounge of her house when there was a knock at the door. She goes to the door and opens it, only to see Dean standing there. "Dean!" She exclaims, shocked.

"Hey." Dean said.

"Hey. Come on in." She said as she steps aside and let's him in.

"So...you busy, or..." Dean said as he gestures towards her desk which was covered in papers. "The paper's doing a tribute to Jimmy. I was just going through his stuff...his awards. Trying to find the words." She replied. "That's gotta be tough." Dean said and she nods.

"For years this family owned the paper. The Dorians? They had a whites only policy. After they sold it Jimmy became the first black reporter. He didn't stop til he became editor. He taught me everything..." Cassie said before she drifts off and realized something.

"Where's your brother? And your friend?" She asked. "Not here." Dean said, shrugging. "All right. So, uh, what brings you here?" She asked him.

"Trying to find the connection between the three victims. By the way, did you talk to your mom about, what Todd said about not being a racist?" Dean asked.

"I did. She didn't want to talk about it." Cassie replied and Dean nods. "Right." He said and the room goes silent.

"So just then, why did you ask where my brother and (y/n) were?" Dean asked and she shrugs. "Nothing. Not important." She said. "Could it be because, without them here it's just you and me? Not you, me, Sam and (y/n) which would be easier?" Dean asked her. "It's not easier....Look, I..." Cassie stammers then Dean turns away.

"No. Forget it. It's fine. We'll keep it strictly business." Dean said as Cassie stares after him. "I forgot you do that." She said. "Do what?" Dean asked her. "Oh. Whenever we get, what's the word....close? Anywhere in the neighbourhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off. Or make some joke. Or find any way to shut the door on me." Cassie replied, making Dean bark out a laugh as he looks offended.

"Oh that's hilarious." He said as he walks back to stand in front of her.

"See, I'm not the one who took that big final door and slammed it behind me." Dean growls. "Ok wait a minute..." Cassie said but Dean talks over her. "And I'm not the one who took the key and buried it." He shouts.

"We done with this metaphor?" She asked him. "All I'm saying is I was totally up front with you back then, and you nailed me for it." Dean growled. "The guy I'm with, the guy I'm hoping might be in my future, tells me he professionally pops ghosts." Cassie said.

"That's not the words I used!" Dean yells. "And that he has to leave, to go work with his father." She argues.

"I did!" Dean yells.

"All I could think was, If you want out fine, but don't tell me this insane story." Cassie said and this makes Dean get in her face. "It was the truth Cassie, and I notice it didn't sound insane the minute you thought I could help you." Dean said, his voice rising.

"Well back then I thought you just wanted to dump me." Cassie said. "Whoa! Now let's not forget who dumped who ok?" Dean said. "I thought it was what you wanted." She said, confused. "Well it wasn't." Dean said.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." She said. "Well you did." Dean said. "I'm sorry!" Cassie said. "Yeah me too." Dean said. They stare at each other before they start making out, furiously.

Later they fall down on the bed, both of them have no clothes on, as they continue to kiss. But as they start to have sex, Dean couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for being with Cassie. Something inside of him kept telling him that this was wrong but he was doing his best to push back that voice.

But then once Cassie pulls back from the kiss and looks down at Dean with a smile, Dean didn't see Cassie. In his mind's eye, he saw (y/n). What's weird is that he wasn't surprised nor did he stop, in fact he got more excited and began kissing Cassie roughly and they began to make love.

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