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mermaidgirl30 · 19 days

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✨New Beginnings✨

Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I loved writing this, it was so soft 🥹 This can be read as a stand alone, but it is a continuation of my fic Fortnight! I hope you enjoy! This is the ending I wanted for them 🥰 Might write another little cute one shot for them in the near future because I love them so much. Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading and helping me with the mood board 🩷

Summary: You’ve spent the last three years healing, growing, and letting go. During a day at the lake, fate steps in when you run into Joel without a wedding ring on.

Word Count: 2.9k

Rating: 18+ Only

Tags: fluff, flirting, making up for lost time, old flame, no use y/n, reader sees Joel again after 3 years, reader has a dog named Sammy

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The summer breeze of Austin rushes through your hair, the smell of fresh oak, the sloshing sounds of lapping blue water, and the feel of new beginnings permeates throughout the air. Summer. Your favorite time of year, your favorite place to be. Georgetown Lake. An escape, a picturesque safe haven where you can sunbathe and let Sammy, your golden retriever, pounce around the clear water as it splashes against his sandy fur.

You’ve been doing okay lately, healing, moving on like you should’ve a long time ago. After sulking around the house days after the mail incident with Joel, you knew it was time to do something, anything to make that pit of sadness wash away. You couldn’t face Tess again, face him, not after you broke down in tears the moment he slipped his calloused fingers firmly around your wrist. It was too much, too soon, too fresh. Even though it had been years since you’d broken up. You never quite got over him, his face, his eyes. But It was way past time, the time to move on.

So you moved, put a sign outside your house to let everyone know it was on the market and sold to the first offer you got. You remember Joel’s face after he saw the posted sign in your yard full of dying roses. He looked so sad, the flecks of his dark irises shining in the February chill as you caught his eyes after hammering the sign in the soft ground. You were wilting more than your red roses, and you needed a breath of fresh air, a way to thrive and grow like your flowers used to be. It was your sign to flee.

After you sold your house and moved half an hour away, you could finally breathe, the wilts of your lilting petals starting to bloom and thrive the longer you were away from them.

You saw the pictures of their wedding on social media, saw how truly happy they looked. You remember shedding a tear or two looking at the photographs, at her flowing wedding dress, at their shared kiss after saying their “I do’s”. It was enough to send you spiraling, enough to make you drop your laptop and crack the screen. And that was the last time you saw Joel Miller. There was no sense in dwindling over what if’s. It was over, done. You swore you’d never see his face again in the city of Austin. He was the past, you had to look towards your future.

You got a new job, working for an environmental engineering company and helping with tracking the bluegill and catfish populations in the lakes around Austin. You liked working outside, loved being near the water. You always felt at home out on the lake with the soft sand sinking between your toes, the calm breeze always blowing away any worries of your messy life. But it wasn’t so messy anymore. It was peaceful, bright, made you feel alive.

You throw the damp tennis ball again, laughing at the way Sammy flops into the water and splashes around, eagerly fetching the soaked ball as he brings it over to you again.

“You ready, Sammy? Go get it!” you yell as you toss the ball back towards the water. He shakes his soaked fur and makes a run for it, but he stops half way and perks his fuzzy ears up at something in the distance. “Sammy?”

You watch him pant happily and make a dash for it in the opposite direction, barking at nothing you can see. “Sammy!” You follow after him, sprinting behind as you hear his chipper barks and feel your hair blow back behind you as you chase after him.

“Sammy, come on! This isn’t like you,” you breathe out as you run until your legs feel like jello and feel as if you’ll pass out at any second.

Your bare feet drag through the sand on the shore, your breath feeling as if it’s on fire as you run and run and run until you finally see his giddy, long tail and golden paws that leap up off the ground. What’s got him so excited? He never runs up to strangers.

“Sammy! Come here, boy,” you clap your hands together as you walk towards whoever he’s got wrapped around his cute, fluffy face.

“I’m so sorry. He’s not usually like this. I…” You freeze, your breath hitching as you stare at the man that fully consumes your vision. Joel.

He looks over at you, a warm smile curling against the edge of his plush lips as his golden brown eyes crinkle down at you. It nearly takes your breath away. He looks so… good.

He’s filled out more, his flexed arms and broad chest clinging to his white t-shirt, corded veins twisting down his tan arms almost like you remember. He looks more buff, more healthy, like maybe he stopped drinking that amber colored whiskey he used to love. His grey threaded curls are grown out, his doe brown eyes more shiny, more alive than the last time you saw him. And he looks like he’s happy, so happy. It’s amazing what three years of not seeing him can do to your own mind. The sight of him almost makes you dizzy, delusional, like maybe this is fate.

“Joel?” you whisper out, your voice shaky and breathy as your eyes slide down his blue swim trunks, his leather sandals, his tan skin that seems to glow like glitter under the orange beams of the sunlight.

“Yeah, it’s me. Nice to see Sammy’s doin’ good. Guess he remembers me,” he chuckles as he bends down and scratches the back of Sammy’s fluffy ears. Sammy jumps up and licks the side of his face as another infectious smile takes over Joel’s glowing face.

Joel laughs as he wipes the slobber from his greying scruff and stands back up, bright eyes blazing through you as he flicks his gaze slowly over your figure. You feel a little self conscious standing in your too short denim shorts and baby blue crop top as you fold your arms nervously over your chest. Why are you so nervous?

“It’s uhh… good to see ya. How ya been?” he asks slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as his hand drags through the curling strands that sit against the nape of his neck.

“Good. Yeah, good,” you nod as your fingers dance nervously up and down your scorching arms. “What about you?”

“Yeah, I’ve been good, too. Busy, but that’s always good. Been workin’ a lot, contractin’, the usual.”

You nod your head, watching the way his heavy gaze never leaves your eyes. Suddenly, it feels too hot, too intense. That spark simmers low in your stomach, that strong pull that you always felt when you were around him. It’s almost like you were meant to meet here like this, unplanned. Maybe it was fate. Maybe… but then you remember Tess. Where was Tess?

“You, umm enjoyin’ your new place? House, apartment, wherever you moved?” His tone is gentle, like he’s genuinely interested in how you’ve been, where you moved. And it feels strange, but also like it needs to be asked.

“Oh, yeah. Actually, I love it. I moved just a few miles from the lake. It’s so peaceful, being able to come out here whenever I want to.” Your eyes flick over the calm water, examining the gentle ripples of the clear lake, but then Joel’s deep voice brings you back to the present.

“Sounds like you’ve been doin’ good.” He gives you a lazy smile, one where it’s crooked and soft and so serene that you can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah, I really have.”

“That’s good, real good,” he says as he nods his head, just continuing to stare at you in awe. And it’s like you’re just seeing him for the first time, that summertime glow just sizzling off his tan skin.

Your eyes wander over him, lapping up his broad muscles and dreamy smile and untamed curls. He looks so handsome. You don’t know what it is, but something brand new seems to shine through him.

“You look… different,” you say with narrowed eyes, trying to assess what exactly is different, but you’re not sure what.

“Yeah? That a good thing or bad thing?” he chuckles as he runs a hand straight back through his lush curls. The action makes your breath get caught in the back of your throat.

“I dunno. Think it looks good on you, whatever it is.” You smile nervously up at him and bat your eyelashes flirtatiously.

“Yeah?” he smirks as the flecks of his dark eyes glisten under the rays of the hot sun.

“Yeah,” you reply bashfully. “You seem more… happy.”

He chuckles as he shoves his thick fingers into the pockets of his blue shorts. “Guess that’s what happens when a man stops drinkin’.”

Your eyes grow wide as your mouth drops open. “You? The Joel Miller has stopped drinking his precious whiskey?” you ask dumbfoundedly.

“Mhm. Mostly. Haven’t touched a bottle in three months. Been doin’ good, feelin’ stronger, more sharp. Even been hittin’ the gym.”

You smile warmly over at him, your eyes alight as you drop your arms to your side and nod, his words taking your breath right out from your chest. “Joel, that’s so great. I’m so… so… proud of you.”

He nods slowly at you, the dimple indenting the middle of his cheek as his crooked smile makes you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. Like there’s hope. “Proud of me, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whisper out.

“Well, that’s sweet of ya to say, darlin’.”

Darlin’. He hasn’t called you that in so long, you almost forgot how good it feels to hear seep off his sticky sweet voice, that gravelly lull that soothes your racing pulse in your chest.

You suddenly notice his left hand, tracing every inch, every tan speck of his thick fingers. It’s unusually bare, no gold ring like in the wedding pictures you saw online. It’s gone, vanished. Was Tess and him, dare you say… over?

He watches you assess his empty ring finger, his eyes flicking over your narrowed, confused face as you stare so hard that you think your eyes might fall out onto the smooth sand.

You open your mouth, drawing air into your tight lungs, until you release the words you’ve been wondering this whole entire time. “Are you and Tess still…” You can’t even finish your sentence, afraid that maybe he’d just left his ring at home or left it at the jewelry shop to get polished up.

He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “Nah. We ended things last year.”

“Oh.” You’re dumbstruck, your mouth agape as he says the words you were almost too scared to hope for. Not that you wanted things to end badly between them, but somewhere deep inside you still wished that maybe one day you could find each other again. And as fate twisted its tethered vines around the two of you, it seems like this was meant to be.

“I’m sorry, Joel,” you say with tight knit brows.

“Don’t gotta apologize, wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but still. I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

He shrugs his broad shoulders and gives you a tight lipped smile. “After gettin’ married, we jus’ realized we wanted different things. Things weren’t the same as before, and we decided it was better off if we went our own separate ways. There’s no hard feelings, jus’ was better off not bein’ together. We gave it a good two years, but ultimately it jus’ didn’t work out, and that’s fine. Had a lot of growin’ to do after, found my own pace again. It was the best choice. I’m much… guess you could say happier now.”

“Oh, well that’s good. I’m glad things turned out for the best.”

“Me too.”

You give Joel a small smile, and he sends a dreamy one back your way, all crinkled eyes and that crooked smile that makes you dizzy every time you look at him.

He shifts his weight and digs his heel into the soft sand. His eyes look down towards the ground, then flick slowly up towards you, almost like he’s nervous.

“Hey, do you maybe wanna go grab some coffee this week with me?” His hand scratches the back of the scruff on his neck nervously as his jaw ticks from the building anticipation.

“Houndstooth Coffee?” you ask with a raised brow.

He chuckles warmly and nods. “‘Course. Only the best.”

You smile in reply. “Okay. Yeah. I’m in.”

“Great.”

You both stand there in the heat of the afternoon, gentle smiles pressing against both of your lips as Sammy barks and runs circles around you and Joel.

As if Sammy is trying to intrude on the awkward moment between you and Joel, he jumps up and presses his damp paws on your back which knocks you off balance and sends you lurching forward.

“Sammy!” you whine. As if on cue, Joel reaches out and catches you, wrapping his strong arms around your hips as he balances you back on your feet.

“Whoa there, easy now,” he chuckles as he lingers his big hands on your shimmering skin. Your mouth parts open, and you gasp as you look up to find kind, dreamy brown eyes staring down at you, almost like he’s mesmerized. And for the moment, it feels like the first time the two of you ever met, almost magical, but this seems new.

You hook a strand of hair nervously behind your ear and laugh. “Always showing up at the right time it seems.”

“Yeah, seems like it,” he smiles kindly.

You stand there breathing his air, feeling a little dizzy at the smell of his woodsy scent, no more whiskey fragrance lingering in his sandy hair. You feel the tension, the chemistry just bursting at the seams. And you know now that this was fate, it had to be.

Joel gives Sammy a couple more scratches behind the ears and then looks over at you with a crooked smile. “Well, it was good seein’ ya again. Been a long time,” he sighs while you nod in response.

“Yeah, it really has…”

Another long minute goes by and then he’s taking one hesitant step back. “Well, guess I’ll let you get back to it. I’ll umm text you about coffee.”

Before he can take another step back, you hold your hand out as if to reach him. “Wait.” He ticks his jaw and knits his eyebrows together as he waits for you to finish. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He smirks over at you. “Jus’ thought I’d let you get back to enjoyin’ the lake. Figured I was interruptin’.”

You shake your head. “No, not at all. Please, stay.” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, and he chuckles in response as his dark brown irises seem to glow in the sunlight.

“Always knew how to get me with those big, beautiful eyes.”

You crinkle your nose up at him and bag your eyelashes sweetly up at him. “What, like this?”

He just crosses his broad arms over his chest and smirks over at you. “Mhm. Jus’ like that, gorgeous. Jus’ like that.”

Your cheeks heat up as you feel the crimson blush taking over, lingering your fingers against his wrist as you ask sweetly. “So, will you stay?”

Joel nods and smiles. “Yeah, darlin’. I’ll stay.”

And he does stay, until the sun starts to slip under the fluffy clouds. He stays the entire afternoon, walking along the shoreline with you, playing fetch with Sammy, catching up on lost time together, starting fresh. It’s almost like he never left, picking up right where you left off. And maybe it was supposed to be like this. Like you had to fall apart to fall back into one another.

And when the sunset starts to fade to light purples and pink colors in the distance while you sit on the edge of the wooden dock, he leans over and kisses you softly. It’s like the world fades to black, and there’s only you and Joel getting lost in one another. His hands cradle your face softly, his plush lips melting into yours as you taste him and let the syrupy taste mix in with yours.

This is how it was supposed to be, how it was always supposed to be. You had to find each other later in life, begin again, have this special moment in time. It was fate, always had been. He was always the one for you, and this just solidifies it.

When he breaks the kiss, you lean against him while he wraps a large arm around you. You gaze out to the calm blue water and take a breath of fresh wildflowers in the air. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” he hums as he looks down at you.

“Thank you for staying.”

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “‘Course, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere. Gonna just stay right here with you in my arms.”

You lean your full weight into his warm chest as he scoops you up into his lap and hooks his arms around your waist, his lips lingering against your jawline. You take a deep breath and smile as you look out against the misty lake. You were finally home, with him.

Your forever.

Tags: @laurrrra @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @littlevenicebitch69 @honey-dip-24 @sawymredfox

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#joel miller fan fiction #Joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #no outbreak au #no use of y/n

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whimsyfinny · 4 months

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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

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Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn

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laurenairay · 9 months

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I need your hands on me, sweet relief - Q. Hughes

Summary: After another disappointing season, Quinn Hughes needs a change of scenery. Renée Moreau is just trying to figure her life out.

Also known as, the Summer in Provence.

Words: 12k

Warnings: angst, fluff, self-doubt, some bad language, hinted intimacy

A/N: Quinn has really sunk his hooks into me this off-season so I knew I had to write something for him! Provence is on my list of places to visit, so this research was really fun to do.

Title from Pretty Please, by Dua Lipa

~~~

Quinn was tired. No, he was exhausted. Every year it had been the same thing – play so hard all season, push his body to the limits, his team forcing themselves to breaking point, only to never make it into the playoffs. With the Canucks not reaching the playoffs for eight years in a row now, despite him only being on the team for half of that, the pressure was starting to take its toll.

He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

Something needed to change, anything, before the repeated devastation broke him entirely. It felt stupid being only 23 years old and feeling so weary, but he had to do something. He had to do something to break himself out of this cycle, mentally if nothing else. If nothing changed within him, how could he expect anything to change for the team?

By the time locker clean-out day came around, Quinn was at the end of his tether. It wasn’t uncharacteristic of him to stay quiet, he knew that, so he escaped from half-hearted conversation with a promise to attend one last team event, a goodbye barbecue, before everyone went their own ways for the summer. By the time he’d driven himself home to shower off the stink of failure, Quinn had formed a vague plan for what he wanted to do.

He was going to go on vacation. By himself. For at least two weeks.

It was completely out of his comfort zone, completely different to his usual summer routine, but the more he thought about it as he scrubbed the shampoo out of his hair, the more he was convinced. He needed a break. He needed a holiday. Now, he just needed to figure out where.

Somewhere in Canada? No, that was the last thing he needed after the crash of the season. Again. Somewhere in the US? Even more of a no, with the playoffs in full swing. So somewhere abroad? Maybe…somewhere in Europe? The continent was big enough for him to hide in for a couple of weeks right?

The only thing he could think of to do was to pull up a map of Europe on his laptop the moment he got out the shower, close his eyes and have a pointed finger land on a country. Surely he could narrow it down from there, even as dumb as he felt picking a destination this way in the first place. At this point he couldn’t back out though, the desperation fuelling him, so Quinn followed his ridiculous plan – he pulled up the map, closed his eyes, took a deep breath…and placed his finger on the screen.

France.

Okay, France was good. It was a good option, plenty of different cities all across the country. One of them would work for him to unwind in, right? Somehow, he already felt lighter, just from knowing he had a vague destination. Was it really this easy? Why had he not done this before?

Before he knew it, he was spiralling down a rabbit hole of articles - ‘places to visit in France’, ‘3 months backpacking across Europe – must-see sights’, ‘gap year in France’ to name a few – and his eyes kept catching on a name. Provence. And the more he looked into the region, the more he fell in love with its beauty; it had everything from wine tasting to lavender fields to historical towns, and he could almost guarantee that no-one would know who he was. Perfect. Narrowing things down from Europe to France to Provence...and he eventually settled on an ancient medieval town right on the river Rhône, called Avignon. It looked so idyllic, and full of things to do (as well as close distance to plenty of other things to do). Something in his bones was telling him this was the place. This was it, the place where he could disappear to for two weeks to reset and refresh from the season.

And it wasn’t hard to get to either – it almost felt a little too easy. Quinn wasn’t used to things just falling into his lap like this, like it was too good to be true. A 13-hour flight from Detroit to Lyon, and then an hour by train from Lyon to Avignon? And a pretty little apartment in the centre of Avignon for far less than he’d been expecting? It was all there in front of him, timings and pricings included – could he really just book it and disappear for a couple of weeks?

What was holding him back?

Before he could chicken out, Quinn filled in his payment details for the flights, clicking through all the submission pages until a booking confirmation was in front of him, and he let out a shaky breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. There was no going back now. He quickly booked the apartment too, making sure the dates and timings lined up, and once he had that confirmation page in front of him, he found himself laughing a little incredulously.

He'd done it. He’d really done it. He was going to Avignon in Provence, France, for the first two weeks of May and there was nothing that was going to stop him.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, Quinn felt free.

~~~

It took Quinn all of his willpower not to spill his plans to his family while he waited out the month before his trip arrived, not telling any of the Canucks either at the end of season barbecue. It helped that Jack (and his team) were in the first round of the playoffs and thriving, easy to pour his focus into supporting his brother there, his family’s full attention on his little brother just as he deserved.

There was just something in his gut telling him to keep quiet. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to distract from Jack’s playoffs, but he knew deep down that he just didn’t want anyone to worry. Because they would. Taking a trip so far away just to change things up? No-one would understand. They’d just fuss and stress and make Quinn feel worse than he already did – so he just didn’t say anything. Maybe it was a little selfish, but he didn’t care.

After a hockey season like he’d had, he just didn’t care.

It was easy enough to pack a suitcase without anyone noticing either, easy enough to have it waiting by his bedroom door with his passport tucked into a rucksack along with a couple of books he’d been meaning to read for a while, easy enough to call a taxi to take him to Detroit airport early in the morning before anyone in the house was awake.

It wasn’t until that he’d checked in and dropped off his suitcase, until he’d walked through security and gotten himself a much-needed coffee, that he pulled out his phone and opened up his family group chat.

From: Quinn Just wanted to let you all know that I’m heading off to France for a vacation. I’ll be gone for two weeks. Best of luck in the second round of the playoffs Jacky!

From: Luke Wait, what? Tell me you’re joking. Mom did you know?

With that, he put his phone on airplane mode, not daring to wait for any more messages to come through. The fact that Luke was awake this early was bad enough. It was the coward’s way out, he knew that, but at least he told them all, right?

With a sigh, Quinn tucked his phone into his rucksack, alongside the travel adapter for his charging cable he’d had to buy moments ago, and pulled out one of his books, sinking deeper into his chair. Only 30 minutes until his flight would be called – the sooner the better.

The rest of Quinn’s journey faded into a blur. Going to the gate. Boarding the plane. Taking off. Eating. Watching a movie. Eating again. Reading his book. Taking a nap. One final snack before landing. Waiting for his suitcase. The train journey to Avignon. The taxi to his apartment, not being awake enough to do anything other than show the driver the address he’d saved on his phone.

By the time Quinn collected the key from the dropbox and stumbled into the apartment, it was all he could do to dump his suitcase in the living room and kick off his clothes ahead of faceplanting into the bed, jet lag dragging him down into a deep sleep with a smile on his face.

He’d made it to France. Provence. Avignon. He could finally rest.

~~~

Renée Moreau felt like she was at a standstill. She’d followed all the steps in the playbook – worked hard in high school, gone to college, graduated with a degree in Communications from the University of Ottawa – but now she was at a loss. There was no rulebook for what to do when you reach adulthood, other than the societal expectations to get a job, settle down, get married, have a family. But she was only 23 years old and single as hell – there would be no marriage and babies happening any time soon, of that she was certain, and as for getting a job? She just didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know what would make her happy.

She was at a standstill. She was lost.

Sure, Renée had worked a couple of odd temp jobs after coming home to Montreal but nothing that resonated with her, much to her parents’ dismay. She loved them – truly she did – but their expectations for her future didn’t line up with her own in her current stage in life, and she knew that seeing her get more and more run down with each job that didn’t feel right only made things harder. It got to the point, after 9 months, where her parents suggested that they could pay for her to take a three-month travel break to Europe on the condition that she would work for her father’s company when she returned. It felt like an easy way out, something she’d desperately tried to avoid…but after the past 9 months, she knew she needed to do something.

So she’d agreed, much to her parents’ elation.

Renée decided on France, in the end. It was her first language after all, having grown up in Ville-Marie in Montreal, and after a bit of serious research with her parents she’d made a rough plan, starting with Paris.

Her parents paid for her 90-day Schengen visa, bought her plane tickets and paid for all her accommodation as belated graduation presents and her birthday present combined, but she would pay for all food and excursions & activities out of her savings from the various jobs she’d worked since graduating. She knew she was privileged, more so than a lot of her friends, let alone the strangers she’d met on her travels, so she knew she couldn’t take her time away for granted.

Like most things, it turned out her parents were right. The trip away, travelling around France, was exactly what she needed.

For her first month, March, she travelled around exclusively by trains. Her first full week was spent in Paris, the perfect start to her trip to soak in all the culture and history, and then after that she went to Rennes for five days, then Poitiers for five days, then Saint-Jean for five days, and finally Bordeaux for a full week.

In the last few days of March, Renée hired a car to drive to Lyon, staying there for a full week to take her into April, and then on to Toulouse for five days. Next, she drove down to the southern coast, visiting Narbonne for three days, Beziers for three days, Montpellier for five days, Marseille for five days, and Nice for five days, before finally heading to Avignon. Within her first two days there, she’d quickly fallen in love with the medieval town, so had decided to stay for her entire last month. Her parents found her an apartment that would let her stay for the full 30 days, so while she was based in Avignon, she kept that hire car and planned to travel around to different places within Provence, to get the full experience.

It was hard to believe she only had one month left before she had to head home to Montreal.

Still, she knew there was something different about Avignon, something that drew her in, something that was telling her to spend her time there – so she was following her gut, just waiting for the universe to give her a sign.

And on the first of May, everything changed.

Renée was on her way back up to her apartment after picking up a few breakfast items from the local bakery, the old lady Vivienne who ran the place having given her a couple extra croissants with a sweet smile, only to see a stranger walking down the corridor towards her. He was tall, maybe 5ft 10, with fairly broad shoulders and toned arms. His dark hair was fluffy and unkempt, his pale skin a little unnatural with its purple bags under his eyes, and he barely looked conscious. Out of instinct, she held her bag a little tighter to her chest, even though he looked a little lost rather than intimidating. But still…she simply smiled politely, hoping that this wouldn’t end badly.

“Good morning. Are you new to the building?”

The man blinked sleepily at her, silent for a moment, before he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak much French. Do you speak English?”

She huffed out a laugh, her nerves fading a little. American. She could recognise the accent easily, different from her own French-Canadian, even if he was slightly slurred with sleep. “I do speak English. Are you…lost?”

He looked confused for a moment. “No?”

“I originally asked if you are new to the building,” she added.

“Oh, yes, I rented out that apartment for two weeks. Only arrived last night and I am super jetlagged, so I’m sorry if I’m a little loopy?” he said, smiling sheepishly.

Bless his heart. That explained a lot.

“I’m Renée, I’m staying in the apartment next door,” she said, holding her hand out.

He smiled warmly at her as he shook her offered hand, a sweetness that sent unexpected butterflies roaring through her stomach.

“Quinn. Sorry if I startled you. I promise I’m not this weird when I’m fully functioning,” he said, still smiling.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his self-deprecation, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it. I just want to check though…are you heading out to get breakfast?”

“Uh, yeah, I was planning on it – why?” he asked, confused.

“Not a lot of stores in Avignon speak a lot of English, at least not near us right now, so you might want to wait to venture out until you’re properly awake,” she teased.

Quinn blushed slightly, even as he groaned.

“Ah shit, I didn’t think of that,” he admitted, his smile shifting to a wry one.

She hesitated for a moment, before steeling herself. If her trip across France in the past two months had told her anything, it was to follow her gut instincts.

“Do you want to come into my apartment for breakfast? I have extra croissants, a bunch of different jams, and plenty of orange juice?” she offered.

His lips parted in surprise before his cheeks coloured again. Interesting. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” she mused, nodding, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t, and we’re going to be neighbours for a little while at least, right?”

“Right.”

Renée opened her front door, Quinn following her in, closing the door behind himself gently. She smiled to herself as he curiously took in the apartment, probably no different than his other than the positioning of furniture, so she left him to look around while she unloaded four croissants from the bag and pulled out a few options of jam as well as the fresh butter in the butter dish she’d bought (that was definitely coming home with her). She gestured wordlessly for Quinn to sit at the breakfast island as she started loading the counter space in front of him, pulling out two plates, a butter knife as well as a few jam knives, and then finally the orange juice and a couple of glasses. It wasn’t much, nor had she entertained anyone other than herself in the couple days she’d been in Avignon, but it was perfect for her.

“Please dig in. It’s humble but it’s tasty, I promise,” Renée said, smiling.

Quinn just nodded shyly, reaching for a croissant. She tried not to watch him as she prepared her own breakfast, but it was hard not to enjoy the pure joy on his face at his face bite of buttery croissant, her smile catching his attention.

��Sorry, it’s just so good,” he mumbled.

“Definitely don’t apologise,” she laughed, shaking her head, “I’m sure I made the same face when I had my first croissant here. And if you think this is good – wait until you try the fresh bread. You’ll never eat processed cut loaves back home again.”

Quinn just groaned, taking another bite, making her laugh softly. She could appreciate a guy who appreciated good food.

“I think I’m going to really enjoy staying here for two weeks,” he finally said, after he’d eaten one half of his croissant.

“Two weeks huh? That’s a pretty decent amount of time to spend. What’s brought you out here then?” she asked.

Sue her, but she was curious. The exhaustion wasn’t just showing in his body – it was in his eyes too. Was he running from something?

“It’s just been a really hard year. With work, mostly. I haven’t had a proper break and I really needed one, so I pointed to a map, chose France, and spiralled down an internet rabbit hole until I settled on Avignon. It seemed like a good place to unwind and rest, at least for a couple of weeks. One of my best friends is getting married in July, so I wanted to be in a better place, mentally at least, before then,” he explained.

That definitely wasn’t the whole story, she could tell, but it was more than enough to explain the basics at least. She could understand wanting to get away from everything to reset at least.

“I’m sorry that everything’s been really difficult, but I promise you that Avignon is a great place for a vacation break. I haven’t been here long but I’m already feeling great,” she said firmly.

“Well if it’s any different than Vancouver, then I’ll be happy,” he mused.

Vancouver?

She could’ve sworn his accent was American.

Oh wait.

Oh.

Quinn.

Vancouver.

The year had been really hard for him.

You can take a girl out of Canada but you can’t take Canada out of the girl. She knew exactly who he was – Quinn Hughes, star defenceman of the Vancouver Canucks. How could she not have realised who he was?

But clearly, he was in Avignon to escape everything, to take a break from his real life and rest. She couldn’t tell him that she knew who he was, at least not right now. He deserved a little time at least to recover from the Canucks terrible season, and she could absolutely give that to him.

“Do you want me to show you around Avignon today and tomorrow? Show you the basics of our little neighbourhood like groceries and coffee shops and restaurants, as well as the tourist sites?”

“Oh I couldn’t impose,” he said quickly.

“Quinn, I’m offering because I’m happy to, I promise. Besides, you said you don’t speak much French and you might need the help, at least for the local parts,” she said, teasing a little at the end.

He blushed lightly before huffing out a laugh. “Alright, if you’re sure. I would love the guide help.”

“Great, it’s a plan! Now, please have another croissant and try another jam flavour. You won’t regret it.”

~~~

For the rest of his first day in Avignon, Quinn blearily followed Renée around, letting her help him pick up basic groceries to get him started as well as heading to a coffee shop to clear some of the fuzziness out of his head. They sat and talked for hours at the coffee shop, sitting outside on the edge of a square, just letting the sights and sounds flow over him, listening to Renée’s interesting stories about the neighbourhood.

He didn’t know if it was still the jetlag or not, but the fact that a girl as beautiful as her was paying attention to him was exactly what he needed in that moment. Her blonde curls were bouncy and shined like liquid gold in the midday sun. Her big brown eyes were almost doll-like, captivating and full of emotion. Her smile was entrancing, her laugh was like music to his ears, and she had curves for days that were simply mouthwatering. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had captured his attention like this, especially not this quickly, but after all this season had been, to have this girl willing to spend time with him? It was everything.

Quinn was still suffering with jetlag pretty badly though, which Renée noticed and clearly took pity on him for, because she kept the rest of their day pretty light, mostly just walking him around the neighbourhood, showing him roughly where the main sights were ahead of a bigger day tomorrow. Which…she still wanted to spend time with him after a day of him being pretty useless other than happily basking in her conversation? Mind blowing.

The little local restaurant that she’d taken him to that night was just the cherry on top of an incredible first day.

Just like she’d promised, Renée had ramped up activities for his second day in Avignon. He’d put up a token protest at first, not wanting her to waste time with him when she had her own vacation to enjoy, but she’d insisted that she wanted to do the touristy things too. That, and he could ‘pay her back’ for translating everything by taking some cute photos of her rather than her having to rely on selfies to send to her family.

He'd blushed, obviously, but agreed quickly. It was hardly a hardship to take a few photos of her, especially when they would all be cute.

Renée ended up taking the two of them on a basic tour of some of the main sights on Avignon. The first being the Palais des Papes fortress, which he’d read about before his trip and was actually excited to explore, even more so when Renée told him that on summer evenings there was an impressive light show there that explained the history of Avignon (which the two of them ended up attending that very evening after dinner in the little local restaurant again, with a flask of spiked hot chocolate). She’d also taken him to the Pont d’Avignon, a beautiful medieval bridge where only four arches survived. After stopping for lunch in a little café, the two of them had wandered around the flower market and farmer’s market at Place des Carmes – not buying anything but just taking in the sights and people watching, soaking in the atmosphere.

In the afternoon, she’d driven the two of them 30 minutes away to visit the Roman Pont du Gard – a UNESCO World Heritage site for a beautiful ancient Roman aqueduct bridge, where he’d taken way too many photos…and Renée had even taken a couple of him in various poses.

For the memories, she’d insisted.

How could he refuse?

Day three found them a little more chilled out. Renée liked to keep a balance, apparently, of chilled days and packing in touristy activities, which Quinn was more than happy to indulge in if it meant spending more time with her. It felt a little silly to be focusing his time around someone he’d only just met, but there was just something about her. Something that made him want to spend time with her rather than isolating himself. And it wasn’t like he’d set out with much of a plan other than getting away from everything back home.

The main thing they did on his third day was walking around the flea market in Place des Carmes, the same place that the flower and farmer’s markets were in the day before, before sitting in the square afterwards in coffee shop to watch the world go by. It was exactly what he needed after the intense day that yesterday had been, and it just gave him more of an excuse to get to know her a little better, even volunteering a little information about himself as well. Not much, but still a little, enough to make her smile at least.

On their way back to their apartments, Renée had insisted on picking up groceries for dinner, promising to cook for him (which he was never going to say no to), as well as taking him in a couple of little trinket stores she’d found on her own first day, some of which he knew he’d be returning to for gifts to take back home. But that wasn’t something he was letting himself think about right now – home. Right now, all he wanted to do was focus on the beautiful girl next to him, so full of joy and wonder and excitement, soaking in her energy.

She’d cooked him a grilled fish dish, paired with sautéed vegetables and potatoes, inspired by one of the restaurants she’d eaten at in Marseille. It was incredible, the best fish he’d ever eaten and he wasn’t even exaggerating – she blushed all the same when he complimented her cooking though, brushing herself off as amateur. If he could pick up even a little of her sense of adventure, he knew he’d be all the better for it.

When they were sitting on her sofa, dishes rinsed and in the sink, both sipping on a glass of wine, Quinn felt like he’d been transported to another world. Finding peace and comfort this quickly on a trip that he’d booked on a whim? It was the last thing he’d been expecting.

“You know, you already look a little lighter,” Renée said, breaking their comfortable silence.

“I feel it. My…job really can be so stressful. I hadn’t realised it was this bad though,” he admitted.

Renée seemed to hesitate slightly before smiling. “I can imagine the hockey season is draining.”

The hockey season. She knew. Oh fuck, she knew who he was? He found himself freezing, no idea what his face was doing but it was enough for Renée to wince.

“I’m not French. At least, I’m not from France. I’m from Montreal, born and raised,” she admitted, nerves all over her face now, “I swear I’m not going to post on social media about you or even tell anyone about you. Your reasons for taking a break are yours and yours alone.”

Quinn let out a shaky breath, trying to smile but he clearly failed because Renée pulled out her phone with a determined look.

“Here, my Instagram. And I can show you facebook too. I don’t have whatever the hell twitter is now and I never have done. I haven’t posted about you and I won’t, I promise. I’m not lying,” she said firmly.

Quinn took the offered phone, scrolling a little through her Instagram posts, noting that there hadn’t been anything posted since they’d met three days ago. He still felt a little shaky but the fact that she went out of her way to prove to him, to reassure him…it helped, a little.

“Thank you for your honesty,” he murmured.

“I didn’t realise straight away. Not until you mentioned Vancouver,” she added.

Well that was something at least.

“I was so sure that no-one would recognise me this far away from home,” he said softly.

She winced again, before smiling sadly.

“If you want, we can go our separate ways and you don’t have to see me again for the whole two weeks you’re here. I don’t want to ruin your time away. That’s literally the last thing I want.”

The full two weeks without seeing her? Something about that sat badly in his stomach, sinking like a stone, and he found himself shaking his head.

“No. No I don’t want that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, not judging me for being a hot mess, and I believe you when you say that you won’t tell anyone I’m here. My parents and brothers know I’m in France but that’s literally it. Anyone else that wants to know where I am can ask them,” Quinn explained, “I’m enjoying spending time with you, if you don’t mind spending it with me.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. Because I’m definitely enjoying spending time with you,” she said, her smile a little shy now.

For some reason, her shyness made his breath hitch in his chest, enough for him to need to cough it away.

“I’m sure. I’m pretty sure my French isn’t up to the task anyway,” he said, trying to shift the tone of conversation a little, to ease the tension he felt creeping up his neck.

Renée just laughed, making him blush slightly. That was better, even if it was at his expense.

“Your bakery order this morning wasn’t half bad! You’ll get there,” she teased, “Was there anything in particular that you wanted to see or do while you’re here?”

“The only thing I’d really read about that we haven’t seen is the lavender fields?” he suggested.

Renée grinned and nodded, making him smile. “There’s beautiful lavender fields in Sault that I was hoping to go to. Maybe we could go together?”

Quinn nodded in response, his body sinking into the sofa, releasing tension he hadn’t realised he was holding. She knew who he was...and the world hadn’t ended. She still wanted to spend time with him. He still got to spend time with her. Was this a dream? It felt like a dream.

“I definitely want to do a wine tour of some kind. There’s so many vineyards around here it would be silly not to. And I kind of wanted to do a day trip to Arles, maybe another to Aix-en-Provence, but there’s also the Musée de Petit Palais here in Avignon that I haven’t been to yet which is meant to be beautiful? It’s another UNESCO World Heritage Site, and I’m pretty sure you’d enjoy it too?”

Quinn just took another sip of his wine, allowing her enthusiastic words to wash over him. Whatever she wanted to do, he was here for it. And he couldn’t wait.

~~~

Renée felt like she was floating through a dream. She’d honestly expected Quinn to want nothing to do with her after she admitted knowing who he was, but the fact that he was still willing to spend time with her? To indulge her in all the things she wanted to visit just because he didn’t really have much of a plan himself? Well she was absolutely going to take advantage of that, if it meant spending a little more time with the cutest boy she’d ever met.

For day four of Quinn’s trip, she took him on a Rhône Valley wine tour, just as she’d promised, the two of the tasting all different wines including Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Rasteau, Gigondas, Vacqueyras, Cairanne, Tavel, Lirac, Visan, Sablet and Séguret, across four leading wine estates. It was a long day, long and so much fun, with only two couples joining them on the tour, so they’d had plenty of private time together to enjoy the day as well as pick up a couple of bottles to bring back to the apartment as well as a couple of bottles for home. The two of them had stumbled back to his apartment, barely remembering to pick up some bread and cheese to soak up some of the alcohol, which they’d decimated before passing out on his sofa.

Waking up on day five snuggled into Quinn’s side had been worth the hangover.

The two of them had agreed to keep the day as a quiet one, Renée having volunteered to go out to pick them up fresh bread and fruit and coffee after they’d both showered, spending most the morning reading in a comfortable silence before they ventured out for coffee in the same square as their first day, getting to know each other even more now that he could be more open with her. The two of them traed stories of ridiculous friends and hangovers of time past, before heading back to the little local restaurant they’d been to a couple of times already for dinner again, not wanting to break the happy chilled vibe they’d managed to curate over the day.

On day six, Quinn had surprised her with a trip out to the village of Gordes (with her driving, of course), to a spa day in the Airelles Spa. He’d apparently already booked all their treatments, paying the moment they arrived, and considering how fancy the place was, Renée couldn’t even imagine how much money he’d spent on her. But he’d stayed firm in his decision, a streak of confidence that sent her heartbeat fluttering just that little bit faster. It was a side of him she hadn’t seen before, but if he wanted to treat her to a day of relaxation, she wasn’t going to complain.

Alongside the typical swimming pool and steam room, both of them had a neck, shoulders and scalp massage, followed by a thermal mud mineral wrap, and finishing off with a ‘golden glow’ facial. It was honestly the most relaxed Renée had ever felt, but the fact that she did all of this alongside Quinn? With him looking like years of stress had been lifted off of him? She barely had the words to describe it. It didn’t help that he spent the day in bathing shorts and her in a one-piece swimming costume – his toned torso was distracting enough. The spa itself wasn’t that busy at all, so the two of them had essentially the whole place to themselves most the time, and Renée felt like she’d grown closer to him throughout the day more than she ever had to any friend, let alone any guy. It was a personal intimacy, to spend such time in platonic closeness, leaving her a bit overwhelmed with the whole situation, if she was being honest.

Quinn’s pleased smile while they had an early dinner in the village of Gordes kept her quiet though. If he was happy, she was happy.

It was on day seven that everything changed.

The two of them had strolled along the Rhône river in the morning with a cup of coffee each, taking in the scenery and taking their time, heading to the jardin du Rocher des Doms for a picnic. Quinn had brought along one of their bottles of wine from their wine tour, and they’d picked up a second bottle alongside some water, fresh bread, sharp cheese, grapes and strawberries, as well as a couple of chocolate studded pastries from the bakery, all carefully placed into Quinn’s rucksack with a blanket from Renée’s sofa. The two of them settled on a vacant patch of grass away from most other groups, giving them the illusion of privacy, Quinn pouring them a glass of their wine before raising his glass in a toast.

“To the most amazing holiday of my life. To meeting an amazing new friend. To another week of this bliss.”

Renée blushed lightly but clinked her glass against his, taking a sip of the wine that instantly sent her back to the day of their tour with its smooth taste. She cleared her throat, shaking her head to bring her back to the present, smiling at Quinn’s confused look.

“It’s nothing. Shall we eat?”

And the two of them did, a bite at a time, soft bread with sharp cheese with refreshing grapes, saving the strawberries and pastries for dessert, talking for the several hours it took them to finish all the food while they basked in the sunshine and light breeze, long enough to finish both bottles of wine as well. Long enough that Renée felt a little light-headed from the alcohol and the company, Quinn’s soft sweet eyes making her head swirl.

She must’ve stayed silent, caught in his gaze, for long enough that Quinn stopped talking too, staring at her eyes in confusion before his gaze flicked down to her mouth. Her breath hitched in her throat, Quinn’s lips parting in a shaky breath…before he leaned over and kissed her, a gentle hand cupping her face.

And then he quickly pulled away, eyes wide in a panic.

“Fuck, Renée, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…well, I did, but-”

Renée pressed a finger to his lips to stop his rambling, let out a shaky breath of her own. Quinn just froze, eyes still wide in panic, not daring to move.

“You kissed me. Why?” she managed to say, before removing her finger, feeling the phantom presence of his lips on her skin.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he huffed out a laugh.

“Because I wanted to? Because you’re beautiful and hilarious and so cool and it seemed like a good idea at the time?”

Oh wow. That…wasn’t what she was expecting. He thought she was beautiful?

“You think I’m beautiful?” she murmured.

“Yeah, I do.”

It was all Renée could do to lean forward and kiss him again. Quinn made a soft noise of surprise but didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, his hand sliding across her cheek to cup her cheek again. The kisses stayed soft and slow and sweet, only a hint of tongue, but they sent electricity thrumming through Renée’s veins all the same. Never had such an innocent embrace set her heart racing like this. Never. Never had such a sweet boy kissed her so sweetly.

She didn’t know how long they spent kissing, time losing all meaning as she lost herself in his lips, both of them breathless by the time she pulled away.

“Wow,” was all she could murmur, Quinn’s lips looking as swollen as hers felt.

Quinn just laughed, breathless and carefree, making her dart forward to press one last lingering kiss to his lips, earning a soft moan of protest from him when she sat backwards.

“We could, um…”

She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. He just smiled softly at her.

“We could what?” he prompted.

Her cheeks flushed with a light blush, feeling bold with her thoughts.

“I really liked kissing you. And I know we’ve only known each other a week…but we could fool around no strings for your last week here? There’s no harm in it, right? A little summer vacation fling?”

The moment the words left her lips, she felt mortified. She’d never even thought about doing something like this before, let alone suggesting it, and the fact that Quinn looked stunned didn’t help her feel any better about acting like a floozy.

“Yes.”

His breathy confirmation brought her out of her thoughts, and a smile spread across her face before she could stop herself.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Quinn nodded, smiling back at her. “You’re right, there’s no harm in it. I really liked kissing you too.”

Well that was all she needed to hear. Renée leaned forward again, sliding her hand into his hair this time, letting the feeling of his curls between her fingers ground her as she kissed him slowly, unable to stop herself smiling as Quinn kissed her back with a happy sigh.

And that was how they spent the rest of their afternoon, shifting between slow kisses and sweet conversation, sipping the water they’d brought along too, before they eventually headed back to their apartments, changing quickly before heading out to dinner in the little local restaurant they’d been to most nights now, holding hands the entire walk. It felt a little surreal, if she was being honest, that a guy as cute as Quinn was happy to fool around with her when he could have anyone else he wanted. But there was no way she was taking back her crazy proposition now, not if she could have just a little bit of him before he left in seven days.

Spending a couple of hours making out on his sofa before she went back to her own apartment to sleep was the perfect way to end a perfect day.

~~~

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Not when she left his apartment last night after they made out for hours on his sofa, soft and sweet shifting to heated and intense. Not when he tried to sleep but couldn’t get the thought of the way her body felt straddling his waist, his hands desperate to move from where he’d planted them on her waist. Not when he woke up hard as a rock, needing no more than a few moments and a gasp of her name before he was dizzy all over again.

The moment that Renée’s surprising suggestion had reached his ears, he’d felt like he was in an alternative dimension. Things like this didn’t happen to him. Not in real life. Not to him.

And yet here he was, sitting beside her while she drove them out to Arles for a day trip, lips still buzzing where she’d kissed him good morning and passed him a cup of fresh coffee.

But it wasn’t just the physical aspects of it all that was consuming him, as incredible as it all was. He was falling for her, fast. He wasn’t stupid, as much as the hockey player stereotype usually proved. He knew enough about himself to know that Renée was exactly his type – beautiful, funny, smart, and so full of a genuine happy energy. Loved trying new things. Found the little stories of everything fascinating. Had excellent taste in wine. Was an amazing cook. Had a laugh that made his heartbeat race. It was insane how much he already liked her, and it felt stupid the more he thought about because he’d only known her a week. Just one week, seven days, and she had him caught hook, line, and sinker. He still wasn’t sure how he was lucky enough that she was even interested in fooling around with him but he wasn’t going to waste this opportunity, as much as it was probably going to break his heart when he went back home.

But if this morning’s kiss was anything to go by, with the way that he was still floating on air right now, maybe it was exactly what he needed after all.

It only took 45 minutes for them to drive to Arles, Renée finding parking easily with the mid-week calm.

They headed straight to the Arènes d'Arles, the Roman amphitheatre, taking a tour of the incredible two tier structure as well as taking a bunch of photo of each other – as well as a couple of selfies for their own personal stashes. Unfortunately there wasn’t a concert that night – which, if he’d known there were concerts here, he would’ve planned better – and the bullfighting wasn’t on either, but it was still incredible to wander about the 2,500 year history.

The two of them also headed on the Van Gogh walk, Quinn having no idea that the artist had actually lived in Arles for 16 months in the late 19th century. What was incredibly endearing was Renée’s enthusiasm for spotting the locations referenced in his art work, including the Quai du Rhône for the starry night, and Lamartine Square for the yellow house. The walk took them several hours but by the time they’d reached the end of it, Renée was practically giddy, and that alone was worth it for Quinn.

After a lunch stop, the two of them headed to the Cloître Saint-Trophime, another incredible UNESCO World Heritage Site, exploring the cathedral and grounds at their usual easy pace, snapping a few photos – until an older lady approached them with a smile.

“Vous êtes un beau couple. Tu veux que je prenne une photo?”

Renée immediately blushed but nodded, handing her phone over. Quinn just looked at her, curiously.

“She says we’re a beautiful couple and asked if we would like a photo.”

Oh wow. He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, sliding his arm over Renée’s shoulders as she wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning into his body as the lady snapped a couple of photos of them. She returned Renée’s phone with an indulgent smile, Renée murmuring a soft merci beaucoup in thanks, and Quinn wasted no time in throwing an arm over her shoulder again to see her phone screen.

The first photo took his breath away, with how easy they looked together. The old lady was right – they did look like a beautiful couple.

“You look so happy,” Renée said softly, smiling up at him.

“I am happy,” he said honestly.

Her cheeks flushed and she quickly looked back down at her phone, but he knew that she was smiling.

“I promise not to post it anywhere,” she said quickly.

Because there was no denying that this wasn’t just friendship in that photo.

“Okay, sure. Can you still send it to me though?” he asked hopefully.

She giggled but nodded, sending the photo by airdrop before leaning up to give him a quick kiss. As she pulled away, Quinn felt just as breathless as he did the first time he kissed her. It was getting harder and harder to deny his feelings, that was for sure.

The two of them spent a little more time in Arles before driving back to Avignon, going to their separate apartments to freshen up before heading out for dinner. Typically, they headed out to their little local restaurant – hell, they were practically regulars at this point – and their usual waitress showed them to a table in the corner.

The waitress murmured something to Renée after she handed them their menus, making Renée blush deeply and laugh as she walked away, to which Quinn just looked at her curiously.

“Maude was teasing us. Said it’s about that that we admitted our romance,” Renée admitted.

Well damn. First the old lady in Arles and now their waitress? Did they really look that natural together?

“Alors.”

Quinn startled slightly at Maude’s voice, but let out a huff of laughter as she presented a bottle of ruby red wine. The waitress rattled off a stream of fast French, to which Renée laughed again, shaking her head.

“She said the wine is free for new lovers.”

Now it was Quinn’s turn to blush, earning laughter from both women.

“Merci pour le vin,” he stumbled out, his translation hesitant.

But Maude just beamed, patting his shoulder.

“Bien!”

He slumped back in his chair, letting Renée order for them both, knowing that she could see he was a little overwhelmed and also knowing the food he liked by now. It was easy. Too easy. Why was he getting himself so worked up about this?

“Cheers, Quinn.”

Renée’s soft words brought him out of his thoughts, seeing her raising a glass of the wine to him and that she’d already poured him a glass too, so he quickly lifted his glass with a smile and clinked it gently against hers.

It was very good wine.

True to form, the two of them spent a couple of hours eating, talking, and drinking, just basking in each other’s company, and Quinn tried not to let himself overthink things. No strings, easy fun. He could roll with this.

It was late when the two of them ended up back in his apartment, kissing the moment that Quinn shut the door behind them, and they stumbled over to the sofa without breaking apart. It was consuming, heated, passionate like never before, and Quinn found himself sliding his hands under her clothes, helping her undress as she helped him undress too. It wasn’t until they were down to their underwear that Quinn pulled away to take a ragged breath, eyes roving over her tanned skin bathed in the moonlight that streamed in through the windows.

“Bed?” he asked, more than a little breathless as his hands clutched at her bare waist.

“Yes, take me to bed Quinn,” she murmured.

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

~~~

The next few days felt like they flew by. Renée tried to hold onto each moment, to savour each memory, but when each moment was just as happy as the last, it was hard to distinguish them. Throughout days nine, ten, eleven, and twelve of Quinn’s trip, Renée tried hard to make sure that he experienced as many local things as well as a couple of more exciting trips, to keep his vacation as full as possible.

In Avignon, the two of them visited the Musée de Petit Palais, another UNESCO World Heritage Site, home to an incredible collection of paintings from the 13th to the 15th century. They also went to the Cathédrale Notre-Dame-des-Doms. It was right next to the Palais des Papes, where they’d visited earlier in their trip, and well worth the visit – the frescoes, marble statues and golden statue of the Virgin Mary in the interior were incredible, and another moment for a few photos of the two of them.

Those were mostly for Renée’s memories at this point. She wasn’t going to lie to herself.

As a fun activity, Renée booked them on a lunchtime cruise along The Rhône, listening to the tour guide give them a fascinating description from the water’s edge, murmuring the translation into Quinn’s ear as they went – a perfect excuse to sit practically in his lap, although she didn’t think he minded with the way he had his arm wrapped tight around her waist.

They also took a day trip to Aix-en-Provence, just as she’d asked for. It took them just over an hour to drive, easy in the morning traffic, and she felt lost in the incredible art history, grateful to Quinn for indulging her yet again. They visited the art studio of Cezanne, as well as his works displayed in the Granet Museum. The museum also displayed works by Picasso, Rembrandt, and Ingres, all of which Quinn listened to her ramble about with avid attention. They had an extended coffee break in Cours Mirabeau, visited the beautiful Vendôme Pavilion, before eating a romantic candlelit dinner looking over a busy square, all light up with twinkling lights.

Her favourite day though? A trip to the local farmer’s market again, when they’d eaten fresh peaches and kissed the slick juice off each other’s lips.

All of this mixed with intense incredible sex every single day only led Renée to one conclusion. She was falling in love with him, slowly but surely, and she felt so damn stupid when she realised it, lying naked in his arms while Quinn snored quietly next to her. How could she not feel stupid? He was leaving soon – he only had two days left in Avignon – and there was nothing she could do about it. She was the one that suggested no strings fun after all, although she should’ve known that would’ve come back around to bite her in the ass.

Nothing good could come from this realisation. Nothing at all.

But she would be damned if she wasn’t going to live these final two days with him to the fullest.

~~~

Quinn woke up on his penultimate day with a heavy heart. Not because of the beautiful woman lying naked in his arms, no. Well…no, not really. It wasn’t her fault, after all, that he was falling in love with her. She’d never asked for that, nothing more than fooling around, but here he was thinking like a fool anyway.

That didn’t stop him from kissing the sleepy smile off her face when she woke up, happily making her cry out his name with his face between her thighs too.

After the two of them had showered separately in their own apartments, because he knew damn well that he couldn’t keep his hands off her at this point, they headed out to central Avignon for their final day trip. Today, they were heading to Sault, to the lavender fields, as part of a half day trip with a private guide. Apparently the trips were for a maximum of eight people in a minibus, but there was only one other couple booked in for their trip today, so Quinn was buzzing about having more private time with Renée.

The ride from Avignon only took one hour, but before they got to the fields, they made a stop at the lavender distillery Arôma Plantes. Alongside a little museum, where they learnt about lavender oil production, there was a little store, where Quinn happily bought a ton of gifts for his family to take home with him, and Renée bought her own fair share too. When they finally arrived at the fields though, Quinn had to admit he was a little breathtaken with the vast beauty. The bright colours alone were stunning, and he made sure to take a ton of candid photos of Renée as well as a couple of posed shots, letting her do the same for him before the tour guide took a few photos of them together, getting all the angles in to make them laugh.

The laughing photos ended up being his favourite of the whole selection, if he was being honest.

They visited three fields in total for about 15-20 minutes each, before heading to the village of Sault for a lunch stop, sharing a bottle of wine between them (with the other couple doing the same). By the time they headed back to Avignon, Quinn had a steady buzz from the wine as well as the rush of the day, and it was easy to fall back into his bed with Renée for the afternoon, only leaving to shower separately when his stomach rumbled with hunger.

They changed apartments for dinner, Renée having a better kitchen set-up than he did. He watched her cook for them in a comfortable silence, sipping water to clear his head as much as was possible, smiling at her every time she caught him watching her.

“I’m really going to miss you.”

There it was. He’d blurted it out without meaning to, cringing at the raw honesty in his voice. Renée looked more than a little stunned, turning the stop top burner to low before looking at him properly.

“You’re going to miss me?” she said hesitantly, “Or you’re going to miss this time in Provence?”

“You. Both. I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense when I say it out loud, but I can’t believe how quickly these past two weeks have flown by? If I could live in a bubble with you here in Avignon, time standing still and nothing changing, then I would,” he said, laughing a little incredulously.

Renée smiled sadly. “The time has flown by. Avignon with you will always hold a place in my heart. I’m going to miss it too.”

“You’re leaving Avignon?” he asked, confused.

She seemed to hesitate slightly, maybe a little confused, before she nodded.

“I’m leaving France entirely soon – I’m due to head home myself. My Schengen 90 day visa runs out at the end of May.”

Her whole trip was ending?

She was heading home too?

She was heading back to Canada, back to Montreal?

Why hadn’t she said anything these past few days? Why had they only focused on him, only spoken about his trip ending?

While he got lost in his thoughts, Renée finished off cooking, and the two of them sat down to eat in silence. As always, the food was incredible, and he made sure to let her know that, earning the usual modest blush, and they finished off a bottle of wine on the sofa, ending the evening with the slow, sweet kisses that had gotten him lost in her nearly a week ago.

But rather than falling into bed together like they had done all week, Quinn had left for his own apartment with a goodnight kiss, admitting he hadn’t yet packed his suitcase at all, and he didn’t want to rush that tomorrow.

Renée had laughed at him, teasing smile making him blush, but she waved him off with another kiss that left him conflicted. Because while it was true he had yet to pack his suitcase, he also wanted to think.

She lied about leaving Avignon. Why?

No, not lied. Just omitted. He knew she was over on a visa, but it hadn’t occurred to him the timings of her trip and she hadn’t stated it. Why?

Maybe she just was protecting herself. But why?

The more he thought about it, the more overwhelmed he felt, until he was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Why did he care so much? Why had he let her get into his head like this? Why had he allowed her to consume his heart like this?

Because that what it was, wasn’t it? He was falling in love with her, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her, and now there was a slightest fraction of a chance that this didn’t have to end because they would be in the same country for most of the year.

It was the tiniest sliver of a chance but as soon as he thought of it, his greedy heart clutched onto the hope with all of its strength.

This season had been one of the hardest, both physically and mentally, and he’d taken this trip to make a change in his life. A change he had so desperately needed. Was Renée this change? Had she changed him? Meeting her was the first thing that made him feel good in a long time. He was damn sure that he wouldn’t have had nearly as good a time in Avignon if it hadn’t been for her. He knew that, down to his bones.

He had to tell her how he felt. It would be stupid not to, with him leaving tomorrow. At least that way he would know for certain. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, right? He needed to take this shot, for his own heart’s sake.

Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning he would tell her, and he could only hope for the best.

~~~

Renée woke up to the sound of a series of rapid knocks on her front door, jolting her from her sleep and her empty bed. Going to bed had been strange last night, without Quinn by her side as she’d had all week, but she knew that was stupid to hold onto. He was leaving today, after all, so she needed to let go of him. She wouldn’t survive otherwise.

Still the knocking continued, so she got up with a yawn, shuffling to open the door, only to reveal Quinn standing there far earlier than normal. He was fully dressed, holding two coffees in a holder with a bag of pastries under one arm…and a bouquet of flowers?

The most beautiful colourful fresh flowers that she’d ever seen too.

“Are these for me?”

Damn her lack of caffeine.

Quinn huffed out a laugh, smiling fondly down at her, making traitorous butterflies swirl in her stomach.

“Yes, they are. Can I come in?” he asked.

She just nodded, still a little stunned at the beautiful bouquet, Quinn heading straight for the kitchen to put them in a vase, leaving the coffees and pastries on the kitchen island as he did so.

“Quinn…” she murmured, prompting as he put the flowers on the island next to them.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, before he moved to stand next to her and cleared his throat.

“I’m leaving today. I’m leaving and I can’t change it, so I need to tell you before I regret not saying anything,” he said softly.

“Tell me what?” she asked, dangerous hope starting to seep into her heart.

“That I’m falling in love with you.”

Her lips parted in surprise as her heart felt like it skipped beat. He was falling in love with her?

“Renée Moreau…you’ve made me feel alive for the first time in a long time. Every time I look at you my heart wants to sing and I don’t want that to end. These two weeks have been the most amazing weeks of my life, especially this past week, and I had to tell you how I feel before I burst. Is there even the slightest chance that you feel the same for me too?”

His words washed over her in an emotional wave that she had not been expecting. It was the last thing she’d been expecting, if she was being honest, never daring to hope that he was falling for her like she was falling for him. She felt stunned, shocked into silence as pure giddiness rushed through her. He felt the same? He didn’t want this to end either?

Just as Quinn’s face started to shutter in her silence, Renée lurched forward and kissed him, cupping his face with both hands. Quinn moaned softly, kissing her back with an intensity that left her breathless, but she didn’t dare pull away from him until she started to feel dizzy, resting her forehead against his shoulder with shaky breaths. This was real. He was falling in love with her too. She wasn’t dreaming.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Renée. I admire your free spirit, and your courage, so much. Just going out into the world to figure out what it is that you want rather than coasting along in repetitive nothingness? You’re inspiring, and you make me want to live life to its fullest, every day.”

She choked out a sob against his shirt, lifting her head to look up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I don’t feel brave. In fact sometimes I feel like I’m free falling because I have no destination, and it's terrifying. But you…you’re dedicated to your career, to your family, to everything you love. You commit, wholeheartedly, and you inspire me, Quinn Hughes. You make me want to set roots and figure out what settling down means. You’re special, in every single way, and I really hope I can make you see exactly how special you are.”

It was Quinn’s turn to have tears spring to his eyes, and he shook his head a little incredulously, like he couldn’t believe his good fortune, before he just leant down to kiss her again, the kiss staying slow and warm, toe-curling in its sweetness before he pulled away once more.

“I don’t know what the future will hold. I don’t know how we’ll make it work between Vancouver and Montreal. But I want to figure it out, if you want to too?”

“I do, I really do,” she said, smiling through happy tears.

After spending the rest of Quinn’s last day in bed together, Renée drove him to the train station that evening. He was going to take a taxi, same as his way into Avignon, but Renée insisted, needing that last kiss goodbye. As she watched him wheel his suitcase into the station, ready to head to Lyon and then back to Detroit, her heart was aching dreadfully.

But she would see him again, she knew it.

~~~

The beginning of August felt like the beginning of a new chapter for Quinn. Not just because his off-season training had left him feeling strong, ready for the new upcoming season, but because Renée was arriving today to spend two weeks with him at his family’s house in Michigan. She was coming to meet his family, to finally see them in person, and he was so excited and nervous that he felt like he was going to burst.

The two of them had video called every single day since he arrived home, when she was still in Avignon as well as when she arrived home in Montreal, him meeting her parents over video call and her talking to his parents and Jack and Luke on the calls too – but now they would actually be meeting her in person. It was different. It was real. He wanted to scream and shout and throw up and pass out, all at once, all in the best possible way.

From the moment he woke up, despite his mom encouraging him to keep on track with his morning work-out at the rink with Jack and Luke, he felt like he’d been waiting hours for her to arrive. And sure, his brothers had been ruthlessly teasing him for essentially sitting in the front bay window, but his mom ushered them away as best as she could. He didn’t care though, they could tease him all they wanted – he had the most amazing girl who actually liked him coming to visit. Soon enough, a car pulled up outside the house. Renée had insisted on getting a taxi from the airport, insisting she needed the time to pull herself together – but that didn’t mean Quinn couldn’t rush out of the house to greet her away from his family.

“Hey, you’re here,” he murmured, clutching her hands.

“I’m here,” she grinned.

Quinn wasted no time in kissing her, just a few short soft kisses that he needed, before pulling her tightly into a hug, Renée burying her face in his neck, the two of them keeping that embrace for a few seconds before pulling back with shaky smiles.

“Ready to meet my family?” he asked, picking up her suitcase.

“I think so?” she said.

Her tone of voice made him pause slightly, before he caught her gaze over his shoulder, and there pressed against the window were his brothers, gawking at them like lions at a zoo. Quinn just rolled his eyes, tangling his fingers with hers as they walked towards the house. He couldn’t apologise for Jack and Luke enough, he knew that much.

Meeting his parents went smoothly, his mom immediately pulling her into a firm hug while his dad just looked proud. Jack and Luke were a little more chaotic, but his mom (and thank god for her) broke up the intensity by letting them head upstairs to get Renée settled while she finished off putting lunch together, dragging his brothers out with her to set the table.

He’d cleared a little space for her in his drawers and wardrobe, allowing her to unpack fully with a shy pleased smile, and Renée didn’t take long putting everything away, Quinn watching her from his bed with a soft smile.

She was really here.

She was in his room, she’d met his family, she was staying for two weeks.

Renée was really here.

“So…”

She straddled his lap as she spoke, Quinn instinctively wrapping his arms around her waist as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“So…” he repeated, teasing.

Renée laughed, kissing him slowly, sweetly, just enough tongue to send his head swirling as she pulled away.

“Remember how one of the conditions of my parents paying for me to go to France for three months was that I would work for my dad’s company when I got back?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah, I remember. What about it?” he asked, still a little stunned from the kiss.

“This is where I tell you that my dad has approved for me to run the social media accounts and minor marketing from a remote location,” she said, a little hesitant.

From a remote location.

Quinn inhaled sharply, lips parting slightly. “Does that mean…” he trailed off, eyes wide.

They’d talked about it, what the long distance between Vancouver and Montreal would mean, how difficult it would be. What possibilities they had. What the future could be.

Renée bit her bottom lip before nodding. “It means I can move to Vancouver with you. It means that my dad really likes you, and trusts that I can build a life with you while still doing my job. You know, if you still want me around.”

She would be coming to Vancouver with him. This was more than he could have hoped for after he’d met her, let alone after how last season ended. Was he dreaming? He didn’t think he was dreaming.

“Of course I do, are you kidding me? This is amazing!” Quinn grinned.

Renée laughed in delight as he pressed kisses all over her face, still giggling as he kissed her full on the lips, easily melting into the kiss as he slid a hand deep into her blonde curls, holding her tight to him. But then she broke away, resting her forehead against his for a breath or two before lifting her head to look into his eyes.

“You don’t think it’s too soon? We’ve only known each other twelve weeks! And we’ve only had two of those in each other’s company!” she said, hesitant.

No, he couldn’t have her hesitant. That was the last thing he wanted.

“My mom always says when you know, you know. And I know with you, Renée. Yeah, maybe it’s a little crazy, but it’s a good crazy? I don’t want to waste my life regretting something that has the potential to be amazing, just because it's not conventional,” he said seriously, smiling softly before that smile shifted to a frown, “You’re not having second thoughts, right?”

A lump rose in his throat at the passion in his own words, tears springing to his eyes as she shook her head.

“No second thoughts here at all. I just wanted to make sure – I had to say it. Because I know other people will be thinking it, even if they don’t say it too,” Renée said simply, smiling sadly at him.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks. You make me want to be brave, Renée, and I can’t wait to see where the future takes us,” Quinn said firmly, “Bring on the crazy and bring on these next two weeks.”

She just laughed, nodding again as a couple of tears escaped her eyes. Quinn’s smile softened as he wiped his thumb across a stray tear, before he leaned in to kiss her again. This was everything, right here. The girl of his dreams and the future he’d always hoped for.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to break up the reunion, but mom wants to feed your girlfriend, Q.”

Quinn groaned as he pulled away, thunking his head on her collarbone.

“Thank you Luke, we’ll be down in just a moment,” Renée called out, laughing.

“Don’t let Quinn keep you locked away – Jack’s up next and he has a water pistol ready to go.”

Renée just laughed harder as Quinn’s face shifted in a light scowl.

“Bye Luke!” he said firmly, listening to his little brother laugh with annoyance, waiting until he heard footsteps to look back at Renée. “Little brothers are the worst.”

“I don’t know, seems like they love you a lot,” she grinned.

His heart melted a little at her sweet words. Not a lot of people understood the dynamics between him and his brothers, how intense they were, how close they were, but just the fact that Renée accepted their crazy without question?

Well, it said a lot about how well she was going to fit into his family, maybe even forever. But that was something for the future. Baby steps first.

“Ready to head down for lunch?” he asked, helping her to her feet.

“I’m ready.”

~~~

Tagging a few people who might be interested in reading: @wyattjohnston @matthewtkachuk @senditcolton @fallinallincurls @cellythefloshie @sorryjustafangirl @jostyriggslover96 @typical-simplelove @ghostyjosty

#my writing #quinn hughes fic #summer in provence #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 month

Text

Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

Thank you @metalbvcky. NPT for @mrs-illyrian-baby @doasyoudesireandlive @km-ffluv @labella420

🍓 How did you get into writing fanfiction?

As a teen I was a voracious reader and tried to write my own stuff based on other books I'd read. I also loved ST:TNG and wanted dearly to be in an episode and had lots of the books. I wrote my own ST stories with OC's (gratuitous self inserts), but they never went anywhere. In my late teens I read some Xena fanfic on the internet. But that was it for a great number of years.

At the beginning of 2021 I sat and watched the entirety of the MCU films in chronological order (I'd seen most of them before and was mainly a Thor gal.) I fell down the Stucky rabbithole. Deep. I decided to look up fanfic. AO3 was now a thing! I wrote (a very poor) Stucky fic and here we are, almost 3 years later

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

As my ST stuff never made it further than my parent's old PC in the days of dial-up, I won't count it.

I've written for MCU, various Chris Evans and Seb Stan Characters and one fic for RWRB. I've been toying with writing a one-off Criminal Minds fic as a gift for a friend.

🍈How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

Three in July since I first published anything on AO3.

🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I try to balance it out. If I have a period of hyperfocus writing I try to then go through a period of reading. I read on both Tumblr and AO3, so try to keep that even as well.

🍌What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Getting betas to pick me up on tense changes, overuse of words and rogue commas. Reading more. Practising. Writing outlines for longer stories so I don't go off-piste.

🍑Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

Getting bored half-way through a long fic, especially if the first few parts haven't had a lot of interaction. Which is why I try to write the whole thing before I start posting.

🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Engineering courses at MIT and, for a separate fic, Violet wands, including the ways to use them and the differnt types of accessories you can use with them. I even watched a Youtube video.

🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Any comment! Anything that gives me the validation I need!

🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

I wrote a transformation into Tsum-tsum fic that was both cracky and smutty. That's pretty niche.

🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Action scenes. I loathe them. I'm constantly wondering if they are long enough, and make sense.

🍏What is the easiest type?

Short things that are either PWP or fluffy slices of life.

🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Mainly on my elderly laptop on G-Docs, and in every moment I can - normally afterwork before dinner and on Mondays when I don't have work.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

There are a few characters and ships I haven't written that I'd like to. And I suppose I'd like to write a proper long, over 100k fic at some point.

🍇 what made you choose your username?

When I made my AO3 account I felt as though that at 40, and only really starting in Fandom in this way, I was late to the party, so that is who I became.

#tag games #getting to know you #jen answers

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ugh-yoongi · 1 year

Note

fic where yoongi says exactly what he means all the time (ie - i have a massive crush on you) and reader thinks “no one is that direct” and doesn’t believe anything he says because i love miscommunication in fics but YOONGI SURE AS SHIT DOESNT

you know why

hello my beloved birthday-having friend <3 hope you enjoy.

fun fact: this is the yoongi bee dressed up as the night she got drunk as fuck and spent an hour doing a powerpoint presentation on bts kinks. don't we love that for her :)

direct

pairing: yoongi x gn!reader genre: college au, strangers to friends to lovers; fluff warnings: yoongi is an implied fuckboy, brief mention of blood, very direct communication, cigarettes, swearing, a kiss. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 700

You meet Min Yoongi in your chemistry lab.

You meet Min Yoongi when he’s half asleep and wearing a permanent scowl. Looks like he’s just rolled out of bed, and you sneak a glance at his shoes to confirm. Yeah, two different ones, just as you’d suspected. You’ve met this brand of academically-declined fuckboy before and it’s never ended well for you, so you breathe out a sigh of relief when he ducks into a row towards the back.

Then your instructor tells you to pair off, that whoever you choose is who you’ll be stuck with for the rest of the semester, and no one else must want to work with Min Yoongi, either, because he’s the only person left. He blinks half-lidded eyes at you—slowly, like a cat—and says, “Fine by me. You’re who I wanted to partner with, anyway.”

And you scoff. Min Yoongi didn’t even bother to buy the textbook, and you’re at your seat with an arrangement of notecards and highlighters and a stack of notes you’d taken over the weekend just because you were bored and wanted to get a head start. “Yeah, I’m sure I was.”

You’re dumb enough to refer to Min Yoongi as a friend five months later.

It’s a Friday night. Your roommate is god-knows-where, probably getting railed within an inch of their life at some party. Good for them. At least someone around here is taking advantage of their college years instead of wasting away on a threadbare thrift shop couch, a magical girl anime playing on your laptop; the one you watch only when you’re alone, because it’s too embarrassing otherwise.

Then there’s a knock at the door.

Min Yoongi is on the other side with a black eye and a busted lip. Refuses to meet your eye. Says, “I didn’t know where else to go,” even though he’s got a posse that’d put small armies to shame.

You roll your eyes. “You don’t need to bullshit me to get my attention.”

He smiles at that. “Why do you always think I’m bullshitting you?”

“Because you’re a sewer king, Min Yoongi.” Then you sigh, because couldn’t Yoongi have pulled this stunt when you were showered and wearing clean clothes? “Fine, get in here. But I’m not doing this shit again.”

Yoongi always smells like smoke and petrichor and trouble, and it’s the same when he breezes past you this time, too. “Thanks, doll. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

This fucking guy, you think. “Yeah,” you intone, “what are friends for, huh?”

You become absolutely certain that Min Yoongi is full of shit two years later.

“You’re full of shit,” you tell him, watching as he flicks the ashes of his cigarette onto the hood of his beat-to-hell car.

“Don’t you think this is getting a little old?”

“Don’t you think you’re too old to act like this?”

“Who’s acting?” Sticks the cigarette between his lips and takes a drag. Blows the smoke out, waves it away from you.

“You are,” you insist. “No one on earth is this honest. Especially not you. Especially not about something like this.”

Yoongi groans. Tosses the butt onto the pavement and stomps on it. “You want me to prove it?”

You curse the way your heartbeat hastens. How embarrassing that you’re falling for this. That all Yoongi has to do is sell you some kinda line about being in love with you for all your good sense to crumble at your feet. “You’re not in love with me,” you argue. More like you insist.

“Says who?” he fires back, inching closer. Smells like smoke again—nicotine and a desperate kind of hope and bad ideas that might not be all that bad. “Says you, who doesn’t believe a fucking thing I say?”

“That’s not—”

He stands between your spread things. Places two fingers beneath your chin and forces you to look at him. “I’ve never lied to you, doll. Not once.”

“Bullshit,” you answer, your voice diminished to a pathetic hush, but there’s no heat in it. “Fine. Prove it, then.”

You become absolutely certain that you don’t know a goddamn thing when Min Yoongi presses his lips to yours.

#beeday drabbles #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts drabble #jewel answers #jewel writes

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0oolookitsme · 4 months

Text

It's Buzzcut Season, Anyways!

Eeeeekk!!!! Hi Hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well, here comes the first post of the year! <3

So.. It is my birthday today, and I'm very excited to tell you that I'm introducing to you, another one of my pairings! This a little excerpt from the fic (wip) I'm writing about this chaotic pairing, and I really do hope this gets you as excited about their story, as I am! This was supposed to be up in December but for some reason, I didn't post it?? Anyways, other than that, you shall see more, further on in 2024 :)

Also, shoutout to @cupid-styles and @elioslover for picking my ice hockey!Harry to be the one to get a buzzcut, hahah! My indecisive self (who lowkey wanted you guys to pick him), could've never 💗

All the love always, A.

Verse - NHL Player!Harry x Figure Skater!Y/n (uni era)

Word Count - It's just an excerpt so it's short!

Warnings - None that I can find but if there are any, do tell me and I'll edit them into this!

Y/n is reluctantly trimming Harry's hair when her nose feels funny, and she sneezes. Its good though, that Harry asks for her opinion regarding a change that he would rather appreciate.

Please rb to share! | Masterlist

Y/n sat on her unmade bed, hair unbrushed and messy since she woke up from a 3-hour nap. Her fingers typed away on her laptop, her face showing zero signs of any stress regarding the assignment she's going to have to turn in un-edited.

Probably because of the breakdown she'd had before taking nap. She'd been so stressed that she had drawn blood from her lips and broken two of her nails -- which was rather disappointing to her considering she'd got them done not so long ago in the honour of the upcoming season of winter.

The temperature was still as hot as summer, but half of the world was snowed in, and she wanted the peace of mind that winter brought her; so, she deluded herself into thinking that it was indeed her favourite time of the year.

A silent burp made its way up her throat, as she drank the day-old diet coke she'd been drinking before her meltdown-that-leads-to-an-amazing-nap.

Just as she slurped on the last sip that wasn't anything but melted ice, she heard the door to the flat open and her eyes rose up just in time to catch the sight of a sweaty and out of breath Harry, through the open door of her room.

"Y/n?" He called for her, walking towards her room when she only hummed in response. He passed her an apologetic smile on reaching her doorframe, and she knew he was going to ask something of her that the both of them know she wouldn't be willing to do quite easily.

"I need your help," he grinned at her. "...And Immediately."

She looked at him suspiciously, before deciding to shift her focus back on her assignment, knowing that he would lure her in if she were to continue looking at him.

But Harry was at once kneeling beside the side of bed she was sitting on. With his hands joined, he contorted his face in a way that looked like he was about to cry. "I beg of you, please! If you don't help me right now, my life will be ruined forever!"

Y/n's eyes had fallen into untrusting slits by now as she minimized the document that she had been writing in. "What is it, Harry?" She asked him in a monotonous tone, shutting her laptop as if procrastinating the essay any longer would be a great help.

"Cut my hair."

Instantly her jaw dropped open. Shaking her head, she began reopening her laptop and Harry took a hold of her wrists. "Harry, there's no way!" She yelped as he began making her get off the bed.

"I'm not asking you to give me haircut like Zayn!" He exclaimed, as if that'd ease her. "Just trim it a bit," he shrugged, walking out into the small living-room with Y/n thrashing behind him. She even threw a few hands at him, but he had a feeling that she wasn't as opposed by the idea as she was pretending to.

He pulled out a chair in front of the mirror that, though they had been living in this flat for nearly two months, had yet to be pinned to the wall. "C'mon, you work at a salon -- surely you know how to trim a guy's hair," he teased her, knowing that questioning her abilities would get to her and she'd cut his hair better than any hairdresser ever could.

Looking at her reflection glaring at him through the mirror, he winked at her before bending down to unzip his bag. He pulled out an electric trimmer from inside it and handed it to her, pulling the towel from the coffee table that he had left there earlier in the morning.

Once done draping it over his shoulders, he handed her the trimmer and added a touch of his puppy-dog eyes even though he knew they simply don't work on her.

"Okay. If you end up bald, don't complain then," she grumbled before running her hand through his hair. "Is this sweat or did you wash your hair after practice?" Her face was already contorted in disgust, like she knew he surely couldn't have done the latter.

"Don't you worry, I washed it after practice," he assured her, looking at her as if she should appreciate him.

She turned on the trimmer and held his hair in sections by one of her hands. "Why didn't you go to a salon?" She asked him, trimming the hair on his sides with her mouth parted.

Harry shrugged and immediately retorted when Y/n shrieked, mumbling an apology. "The salon's too far. I don't have the time to get there; got a handful of assignments to turn in before midnight." He told her. "And I mean, saving some money never hurt anyone."

"You do realize that I've put doing my assignment on pause to do this silly shenanigan with you?" Her eyebrows rose up as she fired another question at him. She suppressed a smile when he passed a dimpled-lopsided grin to her. "God, I hate you," she said, and a smile slipped on her lips as she moved to the other side to trim the rest of his hair.

She had no reason to be doing a parttime job at a salon, it wasn't going to help her in the future in any way, but it did help her in the present with its money. The money she got by being apprenticed to a dance company went straight into the flat-bills and some other necessary purchases that she couldn't avoid.

But she wasn't complaining about it. Living among frat people was a nightmare for her. She did have fun with people but being a clean-freak and a morning person didn't match well with the frats. They did love her dearly, but when Harry came in asking if someone would be willing to be his flat mate, everyone had chanted for Y/n. And, when he asked Y/n at the rink, she had quite literally jumped at the opportunity and in the joy of the moment, hugged Harry with a tight grip that still had his heartbeat rise whenever he thought about it.

With her touching his hair, Harry's heart was beating so hard in his chest that he was afraid it was going to break a rib. His eyes never once left her reflection in the mirror, not with the way she was being so careful and serious. Her lips had parted without her knowing, and she wasn't even blinking often enough.

That was when Harry saw a hair-strand fall in her face, and her face scrunch up in a way it does when she's about to sneeze. He saw as she turned to sneeze in her elbow -- a habit that she still hadn't gotten rid of. He shifted his gaze down on his hands in his lap, to prevent her catching him staring at her.

When Y/n caught her breath after the sneeze, her eyes grew wide. Her hand began shaking as she brought the other hand to cover her mouth, looking at his head in horror. She wasn't sure if she should laugh or begin spewing apologies and decided on the latter one.

But as she opened her mouth, Harry looked at her. "Should I just buzz it off?" He questioned her and thought that she had paled at the thought of him going bald. "I mean, the match season is finally over. I don't have anything to do but study, do my parttime and of course practice hockey." He shrugged explaining his point of view, looking at her to help him decided.

"S-sure! I mean, you'd look good with any-any type of haircut." She was shaking and stuttering, but Harry was too lost in his train of thoughts to question her. "A-and its buzzcut season, anyways!"

That seemed to be helpful for Harry. He smiled at her, "Shave it off, then. I'm basically on vacation from tomorrow... and I guess I'd really appreciate a change like this!" He was back to grinning and Y/n's sweat was beginning to cool off.

She imagined sitting with Harry on a sofa on some ordinary-night with her feet in his lap like he were her closest friend and telling him about today -- a movie playing on the lowest volume possible in the background. She stopped herself before she could get lost thinking about his reaction and mess up even his buzzcut.

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ryukatters · 1 year

Text

Headcanons (SFW & NSFW) | Aki Hayakawa

Pairing: Aki Hayakawa x fem! reader

Content/warnings: fluff, smut, nothing too crazy to be honest

A/N: Hello! I have risen from the dead and my very first post in over a year will be dedicated to the newfound love of my life, Aki Hayakawa. I feel like headcanons are a good way for me to figure out characterization and how I want to write characters in future fics, so here we are. Also I edited this Aki screencap to make him :) instead of :(

SFW

Makes his bed every morning, even if you’re in it. So if you wake up and find that one half of the bed is a lot straighter and smoother than your half, you’ll know why.

That being said, he likes to make sure you’re nice and warm when he leaves your side every morning for work, so he makes sure to wrap the blanket around you extra snug.

Is your personal chauffeur. The good thing about Aki is that he’s not only a good driver, but he loves driving as well. You can mention wanting to go to a certain place, then all of a sudden Aki’s dragging you out the door, keys in hand. In the words of T.I., “you can go wherever you like”

Has a thing for forehead kisses, especially if you’re shorter than him.

Likes it when you guys have complimentary or matching jewelry.

Aki isn’t one to talk much, but around you it’s almost like his mouth has a mind of its own. He feels like he can talk about anything and everything with you, and hopes that you feel the same way around him.

Was very much an old man in his past life. Quite geriatric, to be honest. Goes to bed early, doesn’t upgrade his phone, reads physical newspapers in this day and age. You’ll have to live with the fact that you’re dating a grandpa </3

Aki is very, very responsible. Is always punctual, schedules appointments without needing a reminder, knows his way around legal documents and just navigating everyday life. (Though it probably has to do with the fact he’s an old man incarnate)

He doesn’t mind if he has to do things for you, either. He welcomes it, even. He likes feeling needed by you.

Aside from cooking and driving, I imagine Aki being a somewhat proficient photographer. He has a bunch of cash to blow from being in public safety, and although he has very few vices to spend his salary on, he decided to indulge on a quality camera with the appropriate accessories

It started off small, driving to random spots on his days off and shooting pics. He was definitely more of a scenic photographer before he met you.

Now that you’re together, you’re almost always the focus of his masterpieces. It’s almost endearing, actually, the way he asks if you’d allow him to take you out on a photoshoot date. Sometimes, he has a specific theme in mind, so he’ll buy the props he needs (including your outfits).

He’s literally starstruck every time he sees you in front of a camera. If you’re shy, he’ll encourage you until you feel more comfortable to pose the way he needs you to.

He especially likes the candid pictures he takes of you— you laughing, looking out in the distance at the view, trying a new dish at a new date spot he took you to, etc. He has a separate folder on his laptop dedicated to pictures of you, and he looks back at them whenever he’s missing you a little extra.

I’m sure this has been established already, but Aki’s love language = acts of service. He’ll do anything and everything for you, you don’t even have to ask (most of the time).

Aki is a very observant lover, to the point where he knows you better than the back of his own hand. He seems to know what you want and when you need it. And he loves being the person to give you everything.

Speaking of giving you everything, Aki is very much fine with you spending his paycheck. He’s never felt the need to spend much on himself aside from essentials, and he has a good amount of savings for you to shop your little heart out and then some.

Not that he thinks you’re materialistic at all, but there’s just something about a pretty girl blowing his cash that gets him a bit worked up (in a good way).

NSFW

Speaking of getting worked up, Aki’s dick is pretty much on hard whenever you two are together. You could literally be having the most mundane conversation but if you look down at Aki’s pants you’d most definitely see Aki Jr saying hi. He can’t help it, he just thinks you’re so unbelievably ethereal.

Honestly has no shame when he sees you’ve noticed his predicament. Raises an eyebrow as if to say, “And?”

Back to his photography skills— one time you asked Aki if you could do a boudoir shoot and he swore he almost saw God for a second. Of course, the photos turned out beautiful, and Aki keeps the physical copies stashed away for *safekeeping*

As much as he likes taking control when you two have sex, he has a thing for getting bossed around by you. He’s comfortable enough to get into a more submissive headspace, and will gladly do anything you ask of him.

Has an oral fixation, no doubt. His mouth always needs to be occupied with something— your lips, fingers, titties, your clit

Is obsessed with sucking on your tongue, and swears he almost passes out every time you do the same with his

His favorite thing to do is to get you nice, wet, and overstimulated before he even thinks about putting his dick inside you. So expect to cum on his tongue and fingers a good number of times before getting fucked properly.

As reserved and put together as Aki seems to be, his favorite thing in the world is when you two are both so sensitive and overstimulated from cumming so much that neither of you can even form a coherent sentence. The way his brain turns to mush every time you two are together is almost more addicting than the nicotine he consumes on a daily basis

I think the way that Aki loves is somewhat contradictory— quiet yet very intense. And I like to think that bleeds into the way he makes love to you as well. It starts off very tame until it becomes almost too much to bear. The pleasure only keeps building and building until you both can’t physically take any more.

A munch.

#my man is a munch AND stays bricked up what more could you want?#this is lowkey unserious I’m sorry #aki x reader #aki hayawaka #aki hayawaka headcanons #chainsaw man x reader #csm x y/n #csm x you #csm x reader #kat’s writing #kat’s demon time

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somejazzinthemorning · 1 year

Text

tightrope. 03

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 7.241 Previous chapter: 02.

Drowning myself in work is my go-to coping mechanism for more than half of my problems.

I'll either resort to racing or tracing brand strategies in an attempt to avoid having to face whatever problem throws my way and, that night, being 11 pm on a Wednesday, my laptop and the small whiteboard on my desk became my saving grace.

Despite the burning eyes and my aching back, after hours sat at my desk, my mind was still racing, high on whatever feelings the brush of his lips had evoked in my body. I fell asleep to the memory of his eyes and the velvet lips.

There was no way to escape it. We were already falling.

I woke up late, the next day.

My phone had a full wall of notifications ready to present me. A single text in the middle of the dozens of work-related emails, most of them answers to the ones I’d written during the night and scheduled to be sent in the early hours of the work day. I only realised I was smiling, probably high on my own expectations, when I felt my smile drop, after seeing who sent the text. Amanda. Not him.

“those updates on the project at 3 am??? r u okay?”

“sorry! i remembered to schedule the emails, but forgot about the notes on the project.” "got some good work done, tho”

"need to take a moment to reread all of your incoherent notes” "all that rambling is… wow” "BUUUUUT come to the office” "the things from the berlin store just arrived, you will love them”

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

"come tomorrow, then! ill get churros for breakfast”

My phone went back to the nightstand and I pulled up the comforter, wrapping it around myself in an attempt to find some security and calm of mind. I peered out from under the comforter, staring at the dark room, only lightened by some streaks of light created from a gap in the blinds. I was still tired from the night, and my mind scrambled from everything we had shared.

Eventually, I left the bed. My mom was downstairs, and a copy of Shadow of the Wind rested on the kitchen counter while she cooked lunch. Frank Sinatra played on the old record player in the living room and the music continued to stretch around the house as we ate together. Luckily, her birthday party was keeping her busy; busy enough that she didn't remember to ask me about the dinner from last night.

Truth be told: I'm a terrible liar. I would never be able to escape her questions.

At the end of the day, I met Rocco for a workout, in a nearby gym. He was waiting for me, leaning against the reception counter, teal Puma t-shirt paired with an amused smirk; I knew he was more than ready to put me through my paces. And I was right. It only took me a couple of exercises to lay on the floor, panting and sweating."Have you thought about what you're doing next season?" I looked up, in the direction of the voice. Rocco was standing in front of me, holding my water bottle.

I sat up straight and extended my hand to grab it. "Not yet," the water was cold and refreshing. Just what I needed. "Maybe a third year in the Challenge and," I paused to breathe. "You know, the reserve seat. Not ideal, but yeah."

He frowned, sitting down on one of the plyo boxes near me. "But yeah?"

"Yeah. Works." I answered, laying back down on the green turf. The small fake grass ticklish on my legs and arms. "Not much, but it's racing."

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Why? It's just how it is."

He cleared his throat, the deep sound making me open my eyes and stare at him again. "Up," he commanded, refusing to help me get up. I brought the hand I'd just held up to the floor, to help me get up.

"I thought we were done," I said. He didn't even need to say anything to make me understand that we were, in fact, not done. "Are you mad?"

“Annoyed,” he turned back to me. “What the heck was that answer? Of course, a third year in the Challenge and a reserve seat in WEC are not ideal. I was hoping for a real answer, not some… whatever that was.”

“It’s the reality,” I shrugged. Instead of turning back and going back to do whatever he was about to do, he just kept looking at me. Not the conversation I was hoping for today.

“You had a plan. What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing happened. I had a plan. And it’s going as it’s possible.”

"Excuses, Eva," Rocco exclaimed. He stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "You have a plan. You know what you want. And you have the talent."

“Congrats, you just solved gender inequality.” I gave him an ironic thumbs up, my mind still scrambled from the efforts of the workout and the encounter from last night. This kind of conversation was not what I wanted.

“You’re more than capable of getting a decent seat next year.”

“As we know,” I wiggled my finger between both of us, “It’s a tough path. Being capable won’t get me a seat. ”

“Locking yourself in an office keeping track of TikTok trends will?” I sent him a look. He held up his hands in defence. “You’re making excuses. There are other drivers fighting for the same things as you are and they are not taking no for an answer.”

“Neither am I.”

"Come on," he chortled, eying me carefully. I could tell that he wanted the best for me, but I was not really in the mood to discuss this at the moment. "When was the last time you actually planned something for yourself, and not just some new fashion designer or boujie vegan chef?"

I felt a little bit of annoyance creeping its way up my spine. I had been pushing myself so hard for the last few months, and I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the pressure.

“Can we focus on the races I have left to win?” I asked, my voice taking on an exasperated tone. “We can talk about this after I win this championship?”

“Sure.” He bent down to grab a 15 kg power bag from the floor and dropped it off at my feet. "This wasn't planned, but that self-pity is annoying me."

“A punishment?" I took my hands to my hips, a light chortle abandoning my lips. "Burpees and never-ending lounges? That's what you think I need right now?"

"No, no burpees," he said, his grin widening. "But maybe a few extra lounges wouldn't hurt." He was clearly enjoying this. I rolled my eyes and glanced down at the power bag in front of me.

“It was not—”

He cleared his throat, cutting me off, and I went silent. Then, looking at him, I saw that he was grinning at me once again, content. Yeah, it was self-pity. Yeah, the future is scary, especially when you’re a 25-year-old woman in motorsports and your career seems to be stuck.

I took a deep breath and bent over to pick up the bag, the cold weight of it dragging my body down to the ground. Rocco took a few steps back and then motioned me with his head to start.

"Andiamo," he said. “20 steps back and forth. Three series.”

So I did. I started lounging with the bag, back and forth across the green patch of turf on that side of the gym, trying to keep a steady pace. With each step, the pressure of the bag weighed me down. I kept going, pushing forward and gritting my teeth against the pain. When I finally reached the twentieth step, I dropped the bag and breathed out, my body aching from the effort.

By the end of the third series, I had pushed my body to its very limits and back. I sunk down onto the cool grass beneath me, feeling the relief of the softness beneath me—my muscles aching and my body dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my neck and temples.

Rocco sat near me, guiding me through a couple of moves, helping me to loosen my tight muscles and stretch out my body. Despite the big (and somewhat threatening) muscles he had a gentle touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

"Hm?" I frowned, my eyebrows furrowing together as I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressing down on my thigh, pushing it firmly against the hard floor. I could feel the pain radiating through my body, but I tried to focus on the sensation of his grip.

“You always complain this hurts,” he said. I opened one eye. Now, I could feel the pressure from his grip. Probably something shifted on my face because he instantly asked, “Now it hurts?”

"It hurt before, I was just distracted." I shook my head, closing my eyes again and focusing on the sensation of his grip. “I’m free to feel like shit when things go badly." I let out.

“Things are not going badly,” he sighed, leaving my leg and switching to the other. “You’re simply letting yourself fall behind.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, my head falling back against the floor. I stayed there for a few moments, my heart pounding against my chest and my thoughts racing a million miles per hour. When I finally opened my eyes again, I looked up at Rocco, this time because I felt my thigh burning with discomfort, he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"Too much." I glanced below while patting his arm. He raised an eyebrow, implying more pressure. "Ei!" I scrunched my nose. He just arched a brow. Sadistic fucker. “What? Are you going to hurt me until I hold someone at gunpoint and ask for a seat?”

“You talk like you don’t have good offers, Eva.”

“What is a good offer? Driving against 19-year-old boys in Formula 3? It’s humiliating.”

“W Series?” He suggested.

“I want to race with men and show people I can win against them.” I sat down. Rocco took his hands from my legs. My muscles tingled with the same intensity my thoughts did. “I like the Challenge because I’m showing them I can do it. But the team does not have a budget to race in other series. And I can’t be a reserve forever. So I can do another year and hope things change.”

“See? You’re choosing to fall behind.” He took a deep breath, understanding my frustration. "You can always look for sponsorship," he said, his eyes focused on the floor. "You have the talent, the connections—"

“I spent my teenage years sending letters and desperately trying to talk to people. You saw how that went.”

“You have results to show them, now. In two weeks you’ll have a championship.” I dragged my hands over my face. Instant regret. Both my hands and face were tingling with the same intensity my thoughts did. “W Series will give you exposure. Will give you points. You need points..”

“Why are you so interested now?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit suspicious. “The year is long. Anything can happen. A lot can change.”

“I just don’t see you planning ahead.” He deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “What if you can’t do another season of the Challenge? Will you be content with just being a reserve in WEC?”

“Why so many ifs?” I asked, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Motorsports are unpredictable,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve been around long enough to know that. And I’m your coach, not just a trainer. It’s kinda my responsibility to do this.”

“Nah, I’m not having it.” I paused, still not entirely convinced. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Rocco just shook his head. The dark strands of his hair moved in unison. “Eva—” He shrugged. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like it wasn't completely true. "One," he continued; his tone shifting. "I don't want to be left without a job when you get bored of racing." I threw my towel at him, though I knew he was only joking. Unfortunately, he dodged it. "Two," he continued, "you're racing like a pro. You should race with the pros."

At least, in one thing he was right. I was racing like a pro.

On the other hand, I was not acting like one.

My team and my dad, the main sponsor, were the only support I had. Despite having other offers, none met our expectations. I had been a third, fourth, or fifth driver for too long. I had spent too much time in the garage, running simulations, and taking part in test sessions. Years of it. Each of these experiences had demoralized me.

Racing in the Challenge, learning with my team, taking time to understand the car and driving it to a podium made sense to me. Standing in the garage and hoping for someone to get food poisoning or COVID was not only morally wrong but also quite dull.

“Did you make this whole drama when Rio told you he wanted to stop racing and just go to college and become an engineer?” I asked, getting up from the floor and picking up my towel, still lying on the ground.

“It was worse actually,” my trainer said, following me. “I think I almost killed him when he told me.”

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you do. Your poor father has his hands full with you two.” We stopped walking when we reached the locker room. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

The second I reached my locker and opened the wooden door, I reached for my phone, looking for a message that hadn't arrived. Pathetic. A part of me considered taking the initiative and being the one to call or text him but, to be honest, what was left for me to say?

I had already told him everything by asking him not to kiss me and I might have told him even more by refusing to let go of him.

The office smelled of churros, so I knew Amanda was around. Either that or someone else had the same idea as her.

Familiar faces smiled back at me as I crossed the corridors and the work areas until I finally reached the common area and took one of the available seats. Since I had chosen to work remotely, and only visited the office casually for occasional meetings or when I needed a place where I could focus, I wasn't given an office.

The room was filled with the buzz of people chatting and the occasional laughter, making me feel a bit out of place. I knew most of them (read: I knew their names and which projects were under their purview), but rarely talked to any of them. Amanda, one of my friends from college, and the one who had introduced me to this agency was the only one I regularly talked with.

I sat down in my chair and pulled my laptop out of my bag. After talking with Rocco yesterday, I decided to take action on my career and spent last night looking at emails and reading my dad's notes on the sides of those he considered important enough to print. So, when I opened my laptop, my screen showed me my Notion board, which honestly felt like a showcase of my own failures. Not the first thing I wanted to see that morning.

A knock on the glass divider of the office made me lift my head up and find Amanda on the other side of it. A beautiful purple jumper highlighted her beautiful curves; her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. In her hands, a white box.

I waved at her.

“Vamos,” she motioned with her head. “Before anyone tries to steal these from me.”

I smiled and grabbed my laptop, zipping it up before getting up and walking towards her. “You know I have an important weekend ahead, right?”

She laughed, opening the box. “A churro won't weigh you down, don't worry.”

I took one of them and walked near her to the cafeteria. The morning light was soft, and the day was not too warm. Ideal to sit on the balcony and talk for a while. So, that's what we did. I grabbed coffee for both, while she walked outside.

The sunshine on my skin was just a slight warmth as I leaned on my chair, and the smooth breeze of the morning cooled off my skin. Traffic sounds in the background, the ruffle of chairs and the occasional bark of one of the dogs playing on the balcony of the start-up that shares the building with us.

While having a sip of her coffee, I noticed Amanda's eyes widening, and I could practically see the bell ringing in her mind. Instantly, my brows were drawn together. Brace yourself, Eva.

"So, I heard on Twitter dot com…" I rolled my eyes at the last part, and despite provoking a small chuckle from her, she didn't stop talking and her gaze still remained twinkling mischievously. "Carlos was in Mugello last weekend."

Oh, for fucks sake.

"If that's what Twitter says, it must be true."

"Yes. So," she paused. Her head tilted slightly, honestly looking like a pup who saw a threat in the distance. "Did you two talk?"

I shook my head; my fingers busy on the handle of my mug, desperately trying to seem unbothered by the question. "Nah, we didn't talk."

"You sure?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, my voice steady. "It's not like we're friends or anything."

"That's too bad," she murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "It's not like Carlos and your brother are still like, the best of friends and maybe— maybe he went there to visit him and you end up talking?"

I sighed. "Stop it."“You're a terrible liar, Eva.” Amanda said bluntly, her gaze intense.

“Amanda,” I said, my voice stern and my eyes piercing. "Stop it."

“So, you talked.” Amanda gave me a knowing look. "I knew it. I saw those tweets and I realised we had barely talked this week, and that only happens when you're too busy overthinking. And then boom, I woke up to dozens of notes made at 2 am? You always go to bed early." She crossed her arms, her gaze still intense. "Come on, just tell me what happened. If it’s not him, it’s anything else. That worries me too. I'm here for you, no judgement."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, setting my mug down and leaning back on the chair. "We talked. A lot. We actually had dinner."

Amanda's gaze softened, but then she frowned again. “Dinner? The three of you?”

“The two of us.”

"Just the two of you?" Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, lips smiling brightly. I nodded to her question. "What did you talk about?"

A part of me wanted to end it there. The other part of me needed some guidance. And Amanda was a friend, she always had good advice. On the downside, she loved to gossip. But we were friends. Guidance. But gossip.

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

“Okaaaay, that’s good.” At this point, her lips were curving up like she was the one having dinner with him. I couldn’t decide if her reaction annoyed me or made me happy. "So, what now? Are you going to keep in contact with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't think the dinner changed anything.” Liar.

“Eva,” she propped her elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar. Spit it out. What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me that. Just don’t lie.”

Talking about it would make a big deal. A bigger deal, actually. I dragged my hands over my face, tired and confused. Thinking about it was challenging enough and I truly didn't want to transform all my confusion and emotions into words. Amanda, on the other hand, couldn't hide the fact that she wanted the truth, her gaze so strong it almost made me melt over the iron (and obnoxiously red) chair I was sitting on.

So I told her. Every single detail. From the glorious vision of him under the bright lights of my garage, which for a second made me feel like I was living in an alternate world, through the call at dawn, to his gauze under the beautiful sunset glow. His warm, velvety lips brushing against mine. I told her about the “I think I might have loved you, too”, and the way that even in my dreams I couldn’t seem to forget his scent when he hugged me goodbye.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as I spilled my heart out onto that small table, and when I finished all I could hear was the sound of her sigh. A ridiculous rom-com kind of sigh.

“I just feel like we messed it up because of pure desperation,” I said, crossing one leg over the other and looking around. “He messed it up. I think we just missed each other so much we… I don’t know. Got confused on the feelings?”

“He messed up?”

“I didn’t kiss him back. I just asked him to please, don’t.” It was more ridiculous saying it out loud now than when I recalled the moment in my mind.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” was her answer. I arched my brow. “The guy cooked for you, at his place, told you he “thinks he loved you too” and tries to kiss you and now you’re mad because he didn’t text you?” She paused. “What the hell will he say? Of course, he won’t text you. What would you say to someone after being denied a kiss? Text him yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why not? I asked myself the same question. Because I can’t trust him to stay. Better, because I can’t trust him to not leave. “Don’t be stubborn, come on. Just by looking at you, I know you’re dying to get that kiss.”

“Can’t we go back inside and talk about work?”

“Oh, no, missy.” She shook her head. “Those AB tests can wait. I want to talk about you and how you’re so dumb you might lose the chance of your life.”

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

“Eva.” She was stern, her eyes burning on me. “He was your best friend. At least try to mend that friendship. Even if you don’t want anything else. Whatever the reason.”

I sighed, bowing my head in defeat. Amanda had a way of making me see sense, even when I didn't want to. "And if I can’t see him as a friend but still can’t give a step in the other direction?”

“Then, you give it time. Just don’t give it too much space.” She got up from her chair. Mug on one hand. The empty white box on the other. “Remember how that worked up last time.”

Fact one about Amanda: she was probably the most curious person I knew. Any arguments in the office, celebrity rumours or gossip of literally any kind she knew by heart, down to the last detail. And while that was remotely irritating, especially at exhausting times, like during Amber and Johnny’s trial, or when (especially when) the news broke about Pique and Shakira's divorce, it could also be a blessing. At least from my point of view. Perhaps all the stories contributed to her having a broader view of relationships and, as a result, being so good at giving advice. Fact two: there was no one more insistent than her, so, evidently, she couldn’t leave the office without reminding me to text him.

It was 5 pm, and I was utterly absorbed in the presentation for the new restaurant. I was head down, consumed by the details of culinary and marketing analytics, and, to tell the truth, my mind was so focused on this project that I couldn't really think of anything else.

Amanda was getting ready to leave. Jacquemus purse over her shoulder and a strong pink lipstick on the place where a less saturated one had been during the day.

“You stay?” She asked me.

“Aham,” I briefly made my eyes leave the screen to look at her. “I need to finish this. Next week I’ll be too busy.”

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

“Tuesday,” I corrected her, my eyes going back down to the laptop. “Don’t want to leave this to the last minute.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have a look at it before you leave. Also,” my eyes went up again. “Send the man a good luck text.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. "He doesn't need my luck text.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes still twinkling mischievously. "Okay, send him a whatever text, then. An emoji. Like his Instagram story.”

“I’m afraid liking his story won’t work.” I leaned back on her office chair, which I had taken in the middle of the day when she needed to leave for a meeting and left me to use her small office.

“Text him, then. Anything. I wouldn’t let Carlos Sainz escape, but you do you, babes,” she shrugged, turning her back to me to walk to the door.“Enjoy the weekend. Besos!”

“Bye!”

I didn’t text him. Of course. In the same way, she was insistent, I was stubborn.

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

Mid-afternoon, Rio had called inviting me to dinner, and when I asked about the kids, he told me he had booked a nanny, so they would stay home. It was either business or pleasure. I didn't need to ask; as soon as he mentioned my dad was invited, I knew we'd be discussing business. And after Rocco's worries last night, I knew it was partly my business, too.

My nerves were on edge as I prepared to leave the office. They only worsened as I neared the restaurant - a way too fancy place for a Friday dinner with the family.

Crossing the sidewalk, my heels clacking on the cement, my head spinning from the long hours in front of my laptop, and the anxiety building in my chest, I looked inside. My dad was seated at the end of the table, with an empty seat to his right - the seat I was supposed to take. Marjorie was already waving at me. Smiling politely to the man standing at the door, I said, "They're waiting for me." He nodded and let me enter.

My eyes drifted to their table, and I allowed myself a few seconds to study the mood. They were laughing, but my palms were still sweating as I settled in for what would surely be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sorry, traffic," I said, punctuating my apology with a kiss on each of my parents' cheeks. "Am I too late?"

"No, no," my dad said, his voice warm and comforting. "Your brother was about to tell me something, but you just distracted him. Go ahead, Fabrizio."

I turned to him, curious.

"I'm sure we can wait a bit more. Just... after the food," he said.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marjorie asked, her violet fingernails softly laying over his arm in a gentle caress. "It's something good," she said to me. "Don't worry."

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

"No! No, no!" my sister-in-law responded quickly, her voice almost echoing in the room. Even Rio seemed surprised by her rapid response. "It's Rio's news. Not mine."

“After the food, then,” my father said.

“I hate it when I do that,” I muttered to my brother, grabbing the menu from the table and letting my eyes drift through the print. “You haven’t ordered yet, right?”

My dad shook his head. "We were waiting for you.”

I glanced at the menu one last time before setting it back down. My dad's hand called for a waiter and, after the young man left, the conversation resumed. As usual before any Grand Prix, the race weekend was the matter on the table and, that night specifically, Carlos' penalty was the urgent matter. Ferrari had the pace and Carlos had the skill, but as I sat there, hearing my brother and dad's input on how wise the choice had or hadn't been, my attention diverged to the DNF he had suffered in Austria, less than two weeks ago. Vivid images of the flames engulfing the car, the heartbreaking words on the radio, and the cheers that echoed through the crowd as his teammate stepped onto the top step filled my mind.

One feeling the glory, the other one consumed in ruin.

“Good luck out there this weekend.” "Don’t pull another Austria. That one was scary.”

Done. I’d texted him. For better or for worse, it was done. And I didn’t have time to put the phone back in the purse before it vibrated again in my hand.

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m resting." "Listening to my teammate rant about food, but resting.”

“Why? Did you tell him about the cheese-less pasta you tried to feed me?” “If I expect Leclerc to teach you something is how to cook pasta."

"He’s a terrible cooker.” “I’m better learning it from you.”

"I’ll be sure to give you a lesson someday."

"I'll hold you to that."

"What are you smiling about?" Marjorie asked, my attention immediately being grabbed from my screen to the table.

"Nothing, sorry," I said quickly, tucking my phone back into my purse. "Amanda just texted me about the work I was finishing.”

"Ah, Eva, if you put that effort into racing…" he said, as the waiter came back with our food. I tried to ignore him, especially because there was no use fighting back his comment.

Even with the food on the table and the anticipation to find out about Rio’s news tugging on my chest, the conversation didn’t go further from Formula 1. My dad, a lifelong Italian Ferrari fan and a very biased Carlos supporter was ranting over the lack of professionalism he was sensing from the team and how the choices they repeatedly made ruined not only the drivers but the prestige of the team. Nothing new. Rio and I have been listening to the same tirade for a long couple of years and nothing seemed to change, even after the amazing start to the season the team had.

“I had my reservations at first, but you could be a nice fit for the team, actually”, my dad said, pointing at Rio, with the knife he was using to cut his steak. Rio looked confused at him, and then, at me. “Have they given you an answer?”

What?

For a moment, I felt like I’d fallen on a different table, a completely different conversation. My gaze shifted from one to the other, confused by my father’s question.

“Who’s they?” I asked. Marjorie was biting her lip; her violet fingertips on my brother’s arm, once again.

“Ferrari,” my father responded, clearly stepping over my brother’s feet. Rio seemed bothered; clenched jaw, restless fingers that Marjorie tried to calm by positioning hers over. “Are those the news?” He asked him.

Rio nodded, his jaw unclenching and his lips transforming to a slight grin. "Yep. They offered me a job." He looked around the table, his gaze caught mine for a second but quickly left again. “I need to let them know my decision until Monza.”

“You applied for a job at Ferrari?” I asked. Honestly, I was so confused I couldn’t piece all the things together. “We’re doing so good at the Challenge, you could have waited for just one m—”

“Eva.” My dad interrupted me. The strong stern voice pulled my attention. The authority value of his words over the sweet comforting voice of the beginning of the dinner. The mood had definitely shifted “Wait? You’re the one that’s always urging the team to aim for higher heights.”

"Exactly. The team won't do that without Rio."

"But your brother will. And so will you." I tried to interject but with no success. He continued before I even had the chance to talk. "You can't possibly think your brother would stay with the team knowing he could have this huge opportunity."

"I didn't know about any opportunity." I was replying to my father, but my eyes were directed to Rio. "What about the team? And the Challenge?" I inquired.

"In less than two weeks, the championship will be over. I have no doubts you will win it. You're just losing time there," my father's tone was bothering me, but the fact that he was still cutting his steak as he talked was really aggravating my temper.

Rio, on the other hand, didn't react. His expression didn't even shift. He remained silent, eyes shifting between mine and dad's face. In his silence, though, he was telling me much more than he thought.

"This is not a formality," I said to my father. "Can you please look at me while you talk about our future?"

Finally, he put down his cutlery and remained silent for a few seconds. Deep blue eyes looked up at me, cold and serious.

"There's no future for you if you're afraid to take a serious step," he said finally. "I won't let your brother get stuck in the Challenge when I know he can do so much more. I won't let you make him fall behind because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Why else would he stay at the Challenge?" I stayed silent, feeling my fake sense of confidence being stripped away with the weight of my dad's question. The answer that my conscience gave me was selfish and I refused to say it out loud. I was afraid of staying alone, rather, I was afraid to see Rio flying solo in the higher aims I ambitioned for me and not being able to carry along. Only if he waited, we could jump up together. "Why would he choose anything less than Formula One?"

"So, you have it decided, then?" I asked Rio. "How did that even happen?"

His tongue crept in between his lips, eyes wandering on my face, afraid to reach my eyes. It was making me nervous. Not just because he was about to leave me, but because he didn't tell me about it, prior. My dad knew about it. He even thought that I knew about it. And like a lightning bulb lighting up on my head: Rocco knew it, too.

"It was proposed to me. The job. At Silverstone, a few weeks ago." Even though Rio was stuttering, and his words barely constructed a sentence, piece by piece it all fell together. "Apparently, Carlos talked to someone about you. About the Challenge. And he mentioned me, my results..." he explained. "Carlos invited me there for the Grand Prix and surprised me with an interview."

Why didn't it surprise me? Carlos. The “right time”, of course.

"Your results? Why hide this from me?” I asked, looking around the table. “Clearly, everyone else knows.”

“I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to do it.”

“But what?” I asked, half defeated, half annoyed. Angry, even. There was so much going on inside me, I couldn’t think straight. “You just said you had the interview in Silverstone. Weeks ago. You had plenty of opportunities.”

“I knew you would snap and react like this,” Rio tried to justify himself.

“Snap? I’m not—” I paused and took a deep breath. At this point, I was seething with anger. “I’m asking questions. I’m not… snapping.”

“You should be happy for me,” I would if I didn’t feel betrayed. “I know you well enough to know that you would react… badly to the news. Especially if you knew Carlos was involved**.**”

Even though his name was blinking on my head, in bold red letters, I tried to set apart his involvement in this story. So, I carried on,

“And you’re just going to do it? Leave the team, the whole project and ditch us? Without even consulting me?”

He shrugged. “I’m consulting you now.”

“This is not a consultation, Rio. Please.” A pause. “This is you telling me what you’re going to do, without even considering my opinion or the team that’s behind your great results.”

“Go ahead.” He made a gesture with his hand. “What’s your opinion, then? You are the one that’s always telling me to aim higher. This is my dream. Always has been.”

“What? Formula One? I thought your dream was to drive in Formula One. Or was that before you noticed you’re a shitty driver? Enlighten me.”

“Eva, enough,” the deep voice cut me off.

I felt like I was going to burst. I wanted to scream, to cry, to express my anger somehow. But my dad's stern gaze kept me in my place. I felt completely helpless and unheard.

“You’re being ridiculous,” said Rio, cutting through the silence. “Childish, even. Ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? I’m not the one leaving.”

“Why does leaving need to be bad?” The question settled in for a second. “Grow a bit, and maybe you’ll get some good opportunities too.”

“Sure, maybe then my friends will get me jobs, too. Is that what you mean?”

“Enough.” My dad's fist hit the table, loud enough to silence us, but not to the point of attracting too much attention.

My gaze lingered on his clenched fist on the table. I nodded, forcing myself not to say anything else. I placed my napkin on the table and got up, making sure my chair wouldn’t make any noise when pushed back. Before turning around, I paused briefly, my gaze now resting on my brother. “Good luck with your new job.”

It didn't surprise me when I saw Carlos fly through the track the next day, setting amazing times in the qualifying session, despite the penalty waiting for him for the race. He was dancing with the car, tracing beautiful lines within the colourful ones Paul Ricard was known for. Carlos would start P19 the next day, only ahead of Magnussen, who also had a back-of-the-grid penalty.

I traded the interviews for a dip in the pool and lingered there for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps because I was not the best person to have around that day, my parents had left just before lunch and didn't get back until after dinner. Alone, with music echoing throughout the house and the crippling anxiety the events that week had provoked, I felt myself get lost in the doubts and uncertainties.

My phone rang when I was already getting ready for bed. On my nightstand, the name Carlos appeared over an old photo of both of us. Like I couldn't control it, I walked to the phone and sat on the bed. I let it ring a few times before picking it up.

“Hi,” he said. I just looked through the window, to the dark backyard. “No good luck text today?”

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

“Did you know Rio had an interview to work at Ferrari?”

“Yes...?” He paused. “Is that a problem?”

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

We both fell into a moment of silence. A long sigh stretched through the line. I closed my eyes, not sure what to expect from the conversation. The next time his voice was heard, it was more serious.

"Can we stop asking questions instead of answering them?"

"The timing is funny," I said. "Just that."

"What do you mean?"

"You coming to Mugello? Was that a coincidence?"

"Eva, what?" Carlos was silent for a few seconds. "Don't make this into a drama," he said. "Rio is talented and if he got a job offer it's because he earned it. The things are not remotely related."

"I'm not complaining about him getting the job."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Carlos asked.

"That it took you years to finally come back and talk to me and it happened just when he got a job in your team. Did you really want to talk to me or did he make you do that?"

"I didn't do it for him," Carlos said. "I did it because I wanted to see you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

"It's been three years. Coincidences don't just happen."

I could hear him breathe. Silence weighed down my chest. He wasn't denying it. He wasn't telling me why he was there, that night. "Can I see you this week?" He asked me, before a long sigh.

"No."

"I'll be in Maranello for a few days." I bit my lip, shaking my head to the void. "You'll be in Imola, right? I can go there—"

"I don't want to see you." I talked over him and then paused for a brief second. "Don't show up there, please. It's an important week and I don't really need more distractions."

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

I put my phone away and let myself sink into the bed, feeling nothing but the warmth of the comforters on my skin and the instant sense of security that came over me. I allowed my eyes to close and my mind to drift away, and before I knew it, a prayer for Carlos came into my thoughts.

I prayed for strength for both him and me, for us. I knew that, whether we were on or off the track, we would need to find a way to get through whatever was to come.

Next Chapter: 04.

Thank you for your support in the previous chapter! Carlos will become a more present character in the future. Pinky promise. Don't abandon me until that happens, please! <3

#tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #fanf1ction #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr

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melanieph321 · 14 hours

Text

Dominik Szoboszlai x Black Reader - Not Enough Part 4/6

+18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary - Reader is excited to meet Dominik's parents but is shocked to find out that they are very prejudiced and do not approve of her.

Enjoy!

It was a dreadful night. As you tossed and turned, not all comfortable in the little room Dominik's family put you in, it hit you that this was probably the first in three years that you had sleep alone.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. You missed the familiarity of Dominik's presence, the way he would wrap his arms around you and pull you close. Now you hoped, no, prayed that Dominik in the other room was as miserable as you. How could he allow this, you thought. Was he that afraid to disrespect his parents?

"What a baby." You muttered, also coming to the conclusion that there was no comfortable sleeping positions in this bed. You might as well stay up.

Tossing the sheets aside, you got up and out of bed, the floor boards cracking underneath your feet.

"Such a old fucking house." You murmured. At this point you were angry at the world as you went to search through your bag.

"Yes, a good movie will do it..." You said, retrieving your laptop. Just then there was a light knock on the door, causing you to draw a sharp breath.

Knock knock

You had been to loud, you thought, standing frozen like a cat in the night, terrified to make a sound.

Knock knock

"Y/N, it's me."

"Dominik?"

The door handle yanked as he opened it. Your shoulders fell as he appeared in the frame, half naked wearing only his sweatpants.

His smoky eyes shifted to the laptop in your hand. "Couldn't sleep either?"

"No." You muttered. "And it's all your fault."

"My fault?" He said, voice low as not to wake up the rest of his family.

"Yes, your fault. You left me to sleep alone, knowing damn well that I don't know how to do that anymore."

Dominik shut the door behind him entering the room. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"What?" You said, quite tempted to slap him across the face for being such a dick to you.

"You missed me didn't you?"

"Pardon?"

He nodded. "You missed me and couldn't fall asleep without me by your side."

You crossed your arms. "So what?"

"So what?"

"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I'm still mad at you."

Dominik stepped forward, closing the gap between you. His hands went to wrap around your waist, claiming you to press your chin against his torso as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

"I'm here now aren't I? That means I missed you too." He said and bent down to kiss you. It was sweet at first, his tounge dancing around yours. Then the kissed turned needy, his lips smacking against yours.

"Dominik." You gasped against his mouth. His tounge licked a crossed your bottom lip. "Yes, baby?"

You dropped your laptop, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Fuck me."

His arms went under your ass, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He did so never breaking up the kiss, at least not until he had your chest pressed against his, looking him deeply in the eyes. "With pleasure." He smield and moved to plot you down on the bed where he wasted no time stripping you of your clothes.

"Dominik please."

He didn't settle until he had you butt naked, laying under him with that complecant smile of yours.

"I have to leave in the morning." He said.

You nodded. "Then fuck me until morning."

He chuckled, but did not hesitate to pulll his pants down. There was no time for foreplay, you were horny like dogs. You sat up in bed and made the attempt to reach for his throbbing cock. However he slapped your hand away, causing you to whimper displeased.

"Turn around." He command.

You did what you were told, although the taste of his dick in your mouth would've also been nice.

"Ass up."

You tucked your knees in without raising your chest from the bed, that way Dominik had a perfect view of your....

"Fuck." He grunted, like a wolf about to tare up it's vunrable prey.

You felt a dip in the bed as he got on it. You anticipated his touch that came when he first place himself behind you, aligning his stiff cock with your butt hole, tugging at your hips.

"Wait." You weezed, quite surprised that he wanted your ass more than your glistering pussy.

"I didn't bring condoms." He explained, knowing exactly why you hesitated. "If it's too much for you we can do other things."

It would be a challenge without lubrication, still you shook your head and hid your face between the pillow. "Put it in!" You pleaded and held your breath as Dominik's grip on your hips tightened.

He showed himself into you and fucked you mercilessly. You were limb after five strokes, trembling all over.

"Stay with me, baby, say with me."

Dominik chest warmed your back as he leaned over to search for your hand. He grabbed it and guided it between your legs, wanting you to pleasure yourself while he got it on as well. You tried to match his pace but he was closer to collapsing than you.

"Fuuuckkkk." He groand. Inserting himself inside of you with one last sloppy stroke of his hips. Dominik then collapse on to of you but was quick to turn you over so that that he was the one on the bottom and you were the one on top.

Your heavy breaths filled the room as you came down from the high. The warmth liquid that was Dominik's cum still ran down your leg, however you didn't have the strangth to get up and clean yourself.

"Fuck that was good." He pulled your face to rest against chest, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry." He siad, ones again apologized for making you sleep apart. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow night as well. Just leave the door open like you did tonight, okay baby?"

You nodded. "Okay."

Truthfully you wanted to question why the two of you had to sleep apart in the first place. You were grown people in love, and Dominik's parents said that they liked you. Didn't they?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagine #football angst #dominik szoboszlai x black reader #dominik szoboszlai x reader #dominik szoboszlai imagine #dominik szoboszlai #dominik x reader #liverpool fc

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depressedhouseplant · 2 months

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🔞 In Darkness I Found You 🔞

Synopsis: In which alpha Hobi finds a severely injured omega in his front yard during a storm and discovers the horrible path that lead him to Hobi in the first place

Tags: Mentions of rape, forced pregnancy, & restraints

Hobi picked up his head from what he was doing on the computer when the flood light went on in the front yard. It was pouring rain outside & the only thing that could possibly set it off was something large moving.

“Tae did you leave one of the dogs out?” he yelled down the stairs to his younger brother.

“No, they’re right here!” Tae yelled back. Hobi closed his laptop and went downstairs.

“Didn’t you see the light go off?” he asked.

“It’s probably just a deer or something,” Tae replied clearly unwilling to go outside and check. They lived on a horse farm out in the country with their nearest neighbors 6 miles away.

“Fine, I’ll check,” Hobi pulled on his boots and rain jacket. The downside of having 2 Alphas living in the same house was little tasks like checking for possible intruders were deadlocked longer than they should’ve been. The light had gone out by the time Hobi got out there. It was raining so hard that he could barely see in front of him. The light went back on and he smelled it before he saw it.

There was a person collapsed in the grass, specifically an Omega in severe distress. The smell almost knocked him over. He jogged over and scooped up the young male. He was still alive, but even in the darkness of the storm, Hobi could tell he was in bad shape.

“Tae, open the door!” he yelled. The irritated look on his brother’s face disappeared when he saw the Omega in Hobi’s arms.

“Put him in the bathroom,” Tae said and went to get his bag. He was a nurse and Hobi was a vet, so this Omega had lost his energy in the best yard for miles. Hobi lied him down on the bath mat and finally got a good look at him. He was muddy from where he’d fallen. His clothes were old and worn out. He was thin, but the type of thin where he’d been fed one step above what he needed to survive. Hobi thought he saw blood in between his legs. He may have just given birth. But an Omega wouldn’t leave his newborn pup behind. Would he? Hobi didn’t know much about Omegas other than the ones Tae told him about from the hospital. Neither he nor Tae had considered taking mates. They were content with their jobs, animals, and sniping at each other like siblings do, especially 2 Alpha siblings. The Omega looked up at Hobi. He was clearly confused and exhausted.

“It’s okay. We’re going to help you,” Hobi reassured him. “My name is Hobi.”

He tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“That’s okay, I’ll learn your name soon enough,” Hobi smiled at him. He had no idea why he was smiling at him. Maybe because it reassured him, too. He’d spent years working with skittish horses and it was serving him well now.

“Okay, let's get a look at you,” Tae said. As he went to check the Omega’s breathing with his stethoscope, the Omega suddenly got wild eyed and started whining. He tried to get away, but was too weak to do more than a half roll. Hobi looped his arm under the Omega’s arms & pulled him up into sitting position. He sat behind him bolstering the Omega’s back against his chest.

“He’s not going to hurt you. This is my brother Tae. He’s going to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself when you fell. Nod if you understand me,” Hobi said. The Omega nodded against Hobi’s chest.

“We’re gonna have to clean him up, too,” Tae said. “Though I think I know what’s going on here.”

“What?” Hobi asked. Tae looked at the Omega.

“Have you been pregnant before?” he asked.

The Omega nodded.

“More than 3 times since you presented?” Tae continued.

The Omega nodded again.

“He’s a Breeder,” Tae sighed.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Hobi asked.

“Very,” Tae confirmed.

“I know you won’t like this, but once we get you cleaned up I’m going to have to examine you. Since you were bleeding I want to make sure you won’t get an infection. Okay?” Tae said to the Omega. He nodded.

“I’ll help get you washed up,” Hobi said. The Omega started to shake a little and smell like fear. “I’m not going to do that to you. I’m just going to clean you up so Tae can make sure you’re okay.” The Omega stopped shaking, but the scent of fear stayed.

“I’ll be outside,” Tae said. Hobi started to fill the tub. He consistently soothed him like he did with the horses while he helped him get undressed and in the tub. As the mud washed off, Hobi noticed scars on his wrists and ankles from being tied up. If he really was a Breeder, that wasn’t a surprise. Omegas with desirable traits, such as a certain eye color or body type, were allegedly paid to mate with Alphas and produce equally desirable pups. The reality of the situation was they were kept as hostages and almost constantly pregnant. The practice had been outlawed decades ago. The fact that this Omega was showing obvious signs of being a Breeder meant one of their neighbors was engaging in one hell of a sketchy stream of income.

“I’m going to go get Tae now. Will you be okay in here for a minute by yourself?” Hobi asked as he drained the tub and helped the Omega out into a towel. He nodded. Hobi helped him towel off, careful to avoid his crotch and any indication he might be interested in knotting him, then sat him back on the floor against the wall. “I’ll get some clean clothes for you, too. They’ll smell like Alpha, but they’ll at least be dry.” The look in the Omega’s eyes was grateful. The smell of fear had dissipated. This was probably the first time he’d been treated with any kindness in a long time.

Hobi got Tae and the Omega started to look suspicious again. Two Alphas in the room was obviously one too many for him.

“I’ll be as quick as I can. I just need to make sure nothing is going to get infected,” Tae told him. The Omega looked at Hobi.

“Do you want me to help you sit again?” Hobi asked. The omega nodded.

“Okay. He’s going to have to examine why you had blood on your pants. He isn’t going to knot you. He just needs to check,” Hobi sat behind the Omega again as he reluctantly spread his legs. Tae put on gloves and the Omega started to whine and shake. He’d definitely been a Breeder and only had negative experiences with medical professionals. They always took his pups away.

“Breathe. I promise he won’t hurt you,” Hobi scratched the Omega’s head. He was grooming an Omega he’d found half dead in his front yard 2 hours ago. What the hell was going on with him?

“There’s still a pup in there. It’s not very big, but it’s there. I think he miscarried one, but not the other,” Tae said after he finished palpating the Omega’s abdomen. The Omega looked at him in surprise.

“How far do you think?” Hobi asked.

“Three months, maybe? I doubt he’ll show anytime soon with one this small,” Tae said. “There’s still a risk he’ll lose this one, too. We can’t let him move around too much and we definitely need to get him fed properly soon.”

“Let’s get you dressed and get you in bed. Okay?” Hobi said. The Omega nodded still watching Tae closely.

“I’ll get him some water and soup or something,” Tae said.

“I’ll put him in the guest room. That should smell slightly less like Alpha,” Hobi said. Once he got the Omega dressed in a pair of his old sweatpants and tee shirt, he picked him up again and carried him to the guest bedroom. They rarely used it because they rarely had guests.

“Here we go. Nice and cozy,” Hobi said.

“Yoongi,” the Omega finally found his voice. “I’m Yoongi.”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi,” Hobi smiled at him. Yoongi put Hobi’s hand on his belly.

“This is pup number 10,” he said.

“Hi pup number 10,” Hobi said. His gut jerked at the realization that Yoongi had birthed or lost 9 pups since he presented. This would be the first pup he was allowed to keep.

“How old are you?” Hobi asked.

“I think I’m 25,” Yoongi replied.

“You think?” Hobi was confused.

“What year is it?” Yoongi asked.

“2019,” Hobi replied.

“Then I’m 25,” he replied. If he’d been held captive then he’d have no clue how much time had passed other than roughly how long he’d been pregnant.

“I have water and chicken noodle soup,” Tae said, coming into the room with a tray. “I also found some vitamins. They aren’t prenatal, but they’ll do until I can get some.”

Yoongi let out a whine.

“I know you’re scared, but he’s not gonna take your pup or hurt you. Right Tae?” Hobi looked at his brother.

“Nope,” Tae said as he put down the tray on the nightstand. “I’m going to make sure you and the pup are nice and healthy. So you can keep a healthy, happy pup.”

“You won’t take my pup?” Yoongi put his hand over his belly.

“No, I won’t take your pup,” Tae reassured him. “This one is yours.”

Yoongi looked at Hobi.

“The pup is yours. We won’t take it from you,” he said.

“Then why are you being nice to me?” Yoongi questioned.

“Because you’re a person who deserves to be treated with kindness and respect. You’re not a pup factory,” Hobi replied. Tae nodded in agreement. Yoongi didn’t look convinced. “Let’s at least get some dinner in you. You both need to eat.”

“Yell if you need me,” Tae said and left. Hobi handed him the water and he drank it in almost one gulp.

“Looks like you need a refill.” Hobi smiled.

“Guess I was thirstier than I thought,” Yoongi said. By the time he finished the soup, took the vitamin, and finished 2 more glasses of water, it was almost midnight.

“Think you can sleep?” Hobi asked.

“I am tired,” Yoongi said.

“My room is right next door if you need anything, though Tae probably won’t want you getting up,” Hobi said.

“You can stay,” Yoongi said.

“You’re not afraid of me?” Hobi asked.

“You smell...safe,” Yoongi said, choosing the words carefully.

“Then I guess I’ll change and be right back,” Hobi said. As he changed into his pajamas, he thought about what Yoongi had said. Did Yoongi only feel that way because Hobi picked him up in the pouring rain from the mud? Was he only uneasy around Tae because Tae reminded him of the doctors who took his pups away? Or was it something else? Hobi had unconsciously started grooming him to keep him calm while Tae was examining him. He wasn’t his mate. He barely knew him. He’d put Hobi’s hand on his belly, his most vulnerable place. He seemed to trust Hobi. They needed him to trust at least one of them if they were going to get him and the pup healthy. It wasn’t more than that. It couldn’t be.

Yoongi had dozed off sitting up when Hobi came back into the bedroom. Hobi tried to get in bed without disturbing him and failed. Yoongi jerked awake.

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Hobi said.

“Okay,” Yoongi tried to slow his breathing.

“Down we go,” Hobi helped him to lying down. Hobi lied down facing him. Yoongi watched him intently.

“What?” Hobi asked.

“I can’t remember the last time I slept in a real bed,” he said.

“Where did you sleep?” Hobi wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Roll away hospital beds. It was easier when it was time for us to give birth,” Yoongi swallowed hard.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Hobi said.

“Yes, I do,” Yoongi whispered. “The Alphas liked me because I was one of the prettiest males. The ones who didn’t want to be with a female almost always picked me. I fought, though. That’s why they had to strap me down. I wouldn’t hold still long enough for the Alphas to knot me. Then I got a reputation for being a fighter. That’s when it got really bad.”

“Being strapped down and raped wasn’t bad enough?” Hobi tried to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset Yoongi any more than he already was and by extension the pup.

“Once I was labeled a fighter, they’d put me in a pen first to let the Alpha catch me before I was knotted. I bit a lot of Alphas. Ones who wanted pups that were aggressive would play that game. What they didn’t understand is I learned to fight. I’m not an aggressive Omega,” Yoongi’s voice started shaking. Hobi could smell the fear and anxiety.

“That’s over now. We’re going to find out who’s doing it and where they are and stop them. You and this pup are safe. Anyone who comes in this house without our permission will have to get through us & the dogs,” Hobi told him.

“Dogs?” Yoongi repeated.

“Two spoiled rotten pit bulls named Daisy and Violet,” Hobi told him. “They’re the biggest babies on the planet until they come across someone threatening their daddies.”

“What about me?” Yoongi asked.

“You won’t be able to get Daisy out of your lap. She won’t be happy when we shoo her off until Tae has cleared you for lap time,” Hobi replied. “She pouts.” Yoongi smiled a little.

“I don’t mean to be afraid of him,” Yoongi started.

“But nurses aren’t your favorite people?” Hobi finished.

“No,” he said.

“He can be a jackass, but I’m biased. He’s my little brother,” Hobi grinned.

“Sure,” Yoongi said.

“Time to turn out the light?” Hobi asked.

“Sounds good,” Yoongi said.

“It’s okay. I’m right here,” Hobi told him as he leaned over and turned off the light. Then he felt Yoongi nosing around his neck scenting him. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Then rub around all you want,” Hobi hoped he could keep his knot at bay. Now that Yoongi wasn’t reeking of anxiety and fear, he smelled...perfect. Hobi wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but it was what came to mind. He was on bed rest for the pup and the most exertion he needed was to go to the bathroom and get back in bed. Maybe once the pup was out of the woods…

“You like me too, huh?” Yoongi said. Hobi looked down. Shit.

“It’s not like that. I don’t want to, I mean I do, but we just met and the pup and everything,” Hobi stumbled over his words .

“I understand. The pup comes first,” he said.

“Absolutely,” Hobi agreed.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Yoongi asked.

“Is this a trick question?” Hobi asked.

“No, but I didn’t expect to be rescued by an Alpha in the pouring rain after I escaped a Breeder Farm and was sure I was going to die in the mud. Every time one of those Alphas knotted me and hoped they’d get me pregnant so they could have their perfect pup, I’d pray that there was at least one Alpha in the world who didn’t want me, as you so aptly put it, as only a pup factory. It’s what kept me alive. One day I’d get out and one day I’d find that Alpha. I knew when I smelled you that you were different. You didn’t want me to die. I didn’t even realize I lost that pup until Tae said something. You would think I knew better after giving birth 5 times, but all I could think about was getting out. It was only after I fell down that I realized how bad it was. I dunno, maybe it’s only because I was dying that I thought the Alpha I’d dreamed about for years had finally found me,” Yoongi replied.

“I started grooming you when Tae was examining you because it seemed to keep you calm. I don’t think I’ve ever groomed anything other than a horse or a dog,” Hobi replied. “That has to mean something, right?”

“Have you been looking for a mate?” Yoongi asked.

“No,” Hobi answered.

“Then it means something,” Yoongi said. He gently kissed Hobi. “Thank you for saving our lives, Hobi.”

“You’re welcome,” Hobi replied. “And so are you, pup number 10.” Yoongi put Hobi’s hand on his belly again.

“Pup says thank you, too,” he said.

“Good night, Yoongi,”

“Good night, Hobi,”

#minors dni #bts sope #bts fanfic #bts angst #omegaverse #mpreg

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themorriganwitch · 1 year

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The Way I Loved You (Roosters Version)

Summary: Fic inspired by the way I loved you by Taylor Swift. You and Rooster are friends - or more? And Jake Seresin is your Ex- or isn’t he?

Warnings: some 18+ content, MDNI (no actual smut), just Rooster reading spicy books, some curse words, Jake being the bad guy

Length: 3,6k

Pairing: Rooster x Reader, Hangman x ExGirlfriend! Reader, Bob x Platonic!Reader

English is not my first language, so there might be mistakes.

_______________________________________________________________________

Falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw felt comfortable.

Watching an old movie in an outdoor cinema, covered beneath a warm blanket and your mouth full of tooth rotting sweet popcorn, comfortable.

Slow Saturday morning sex, while the sun has not fully risen yet and fluffy pancakes with maple sirup in bed after, comfortable.

Falling in love with a good friend, comfortable.

The first time you have met him was six months ago, when your joint friend Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd had introduced the two of you to each other.

Back then, you had only lived in San Diego for a couple of days, where you moved by trying to escape the never-ending rain and depressing greyness in your home state Washington.

You have never been to the West Coast before but the first time you came you had nothing but one friend, a laptop, and a broken dream you still were not able to give up – yet.

‘That sounds like the Introduction to one of those cheap Rom Com books you get for 3$ in every mall’. That’s what Bradley had said when he had heard your Story for the first time.

‘Hey, if my book becomes a word wild bestseller, don’t come running back and begging me to borrow you money for some real clothes’, you said playfully offended eyeing his yellow-brown Hawaiian Shirt.

The tall aviator had just scoffed but smiled back at you. ‘Anyways, this still sounds better than telling new people that I am a 28-year-old, with no job who just got kicked out of their old apartment because they had not enough money to pay for the rent’.

‘Yeah, from this point of view I can see why you would stick with that Rom Com shit’, he laughed.

Looking back this has probably been the moment when you decided that Bradley Bradshaw is not that bad.

The moment when you really started to like him had occurred a couple of weeks later, when he helped you landing the job as a Barkeeper at the Hard Deck.

After moving to California, you had moved in with Bob, who had just got permanently stationed at Top Gun, together with Bradley. Bob, or Robby how you like to call him, has been kind enough to pay for your half of the rent the first month, so you had the time to get your life in order and find a job.

Even though you had hesitated at first, being afraid borrowing money from a friend could harm the relationship, you gratefully accepted his offer later on, because you simply had no other option.

When you took the money, you had promised Robert to find a job in the next two weeks, to make you to pay everything back as fast as you could. But after 3 ½ weeks and no job in sight, your anxiety started to get the best of you.

When you had told your new friend Bradley in secret about your problem, the tall aviator promised to help you out and not even 4 days later you had worked your first shift at the Hard Deck. All of Bradley’s drinks on you, of course.

Thanks to your new job you were in the lucky position to enjoy Bradley Bradshaw’s presence for at least 4 nights a week. Due to the fact that he and Bob had been the first two of their so-called Dagger Squad, that have been stationed permanently in Fighter town, Bradley wasted most of his time by sitting at the bar, sipping on a beer he mad you pay for while he complained about how boring his social life is.

Not that he had anything against Bob, of course. They used to spend their whole weekends in your living room screaming at several sport Teams which drives you absolutely nuts. One time you even threatened Bradley to key his Bronco if he won’t stop his ‘Fuck the Cowboys!’ song.

But since you started to get to know Bradley Bradshaw a bit better you had to notice that this man has to do something all the time, otherwise he acts insane which leads to everyone around him also getting absolutely insane.

So, after one night where he had made you listen to every disastrous college frat boy party he had ever attended, which were unsurprisingly surprising many! you concluded to cut this shit.

‘Bradshaw for fucks sake, if you are that bored with your life, I will take you shopping, so you finally have something to do.’

‘Shopping’, he frowned, finding the thought of an overcrowded mall on a Saturday midmorning horrendous.

‘Yes, be ready at 9, I’ll pick you up. And if you behave, I maybe let you take me out for Lunch’, you said smiling sheepishly at him.

He snorted. ‘You let me take you out? How graceful of you. Definitely an attitude you should dedicate to your female Protagonist’.

‘Hey! I am paying for your beer for the last six weeks! The last thing you could do is getting me some nice Lunch’.

Bradley had held his hands up as a peace offering. ‘Okay, Okay. You are right, as the true gentleman I am I will take you out for Lunch tomorrow’.

You shot him an amusing smile and before you could even think twice you had leaned yourself over the counter and had pressed a soft kiss on his smooth cheek.

‘Was not that hard, honey. Wasn’t it?’, you said with a wink, before turning around to another customer at the other side of the bar.

Bradley’s reddened cheeks and his soft, nearly shy smile fully slipped your attention.

—————————

To his surprise your destination for the next day was not the mall or a target but a tiny bookstore, a little beside the main street near the beach.

‘Damn it, Trickster, I never thought you were the one for those quite bookstores. Maybe you are still a romantic after all’.

The glare you had shot him when you hear his newly found pet name for you slipped as much his attention as you soft smile when he had gone out your car first, to open the door for you.

‘A true gentleman’, he said while he had saluted you with two fingers on his forehead.

You laughed while leading the way into the small shop, where he again opened the door for you.

Bradley let you take the lead while you wandered through the aisles, knowing exactly the way to your favorite section.

‘What kind of books are those?’, Bradley’s mouth hangs wide open, after he studied some of the covers in front of him.

‘The spicy ones’, you answered absently while picking out a promising new book.

‘Spicy?’ he had uttered after grabbing a book, which he opened randomly on a page between middle and end.

‘His thick, long tail started to slip in and out my dripping cunt while his skilled fingers circle over my swollen clit’, he ended his reading as fast as he started, his face now nearly as red as the book cover in his hand.

‘A tail?!`, he said stunned after a couple of seconds. ‘Hmm?’, you had answered, your eyes still on the back of the book in your hand. Then you had blinked a couple of times, processing his words before you had busted into the loudest laughter in a while.

‘Why the fuck does he have a tail? Stop laughing on me, Trickster’, Bradley had murmured, his cheeks still a red as a tomato.

‘The book is about a Gargoyle, Rooster’, you had answered, still chuckling while you pointed on the cover. ‘Gargoyles have tails.

‘But why do they fuck people with it?’, he had said, still fully stunned. You grinned. ‘Never saw a porn about double penetration, sweets?’

‘Yeah, I watched it. Like normal people do.’

‘If you‘re boring, Bradshaw, just say it’, you giggled while taking the book out of his hand. ‘Ready to go? I‘ve got what I need’, you said.

Bradley nodded enthusiastically.

‘Which book did you pick?’, he asked then, with a careful undertone. You smiled sheepishly at him. ‘Oh, it’s about werewolves. No tails. Just some knotting’.

‘Knotting?! What is… Wait never mind. I don’t need to know’.

After your little excursion to the bookstore, where you definitely had the fun of your life, the two of you started to make those book trips a weekly habit.

—————

You were not exactly sure when it happened.

When the boundaries were crossed and your greeting hug started to last several seconds instead of a short moment?

When he started to pay for some of your books?

When he helped you clean up after a tough shift at the Bar and walked you home afterwards?

Or was it when it gave you his jacket the first time during one of those walks?

You were not exactly sure, but you could definitely tell that those warm tingling sensations in your stomach were not an indication of friendship anymore. At some point in the last six months, you had started to fall for Bradley Bradshaw.

Bradley Bradshaw who loves to talk, who enjoys a good German beer and who hates the cowboys passionately.

Bradley Bradshaw who always made sure to hold your door open and who never came too late to any date you had.

Bradley Bradshaw who only is supposed to be your friend.

At some point not only you had noticed the change in your relationship with Bradley but also Bob did. It was on one of those Saturdays when some football game played in the TV and Bradley came over to watch it with your roommate

By now it had become your new normal to join them, not because you were interested in the game but because they always had the best beer saved for their weekly sport watch sessions. And definitely not because you wanted to spend more time with your just friend.

You had a feeling that Robby noticed something for a bit longer now, but after you noticed him glaring at every interaction you had with Bradley in the last two hours, you confronted him after Bradley left to use the bathroom.

‘Could you please stop watching me?’, you asked annoyed. ‘Sure’, your friend answered sweetly. ‘When you tell him how you feel, I surely will stop watching’.

‘I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about’, you said trying desperately to seem clueless, but Bob just shot you another knowing glare.

‘Listen, sweets. I know the topic of relationships is a difficult one for you. But Bradley is a good guy. A very good guy, you should give him a chance’.

You opened your mouth to deny his words a second time but were stopped by Bradshaw claiming his seat next to you on the couch again.

Even though you weren’t focus on the game before your conversation , you were now fully zoned out, Roberts words wandering through your mind and waken things you hoped you would have erased out of your mind by now.

—————————

While falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw felt comfortable, falling in love with Jake Seresin had felt freeing.

Like being on the highest and fastest rollercoaster at night, while the rain is pouring down in the evening breeze and you feel so alive that you want to scream from the top of your lungs.

Like feeling so much at once that your heart feels like it must explode at every second because you are so consumed by the intensity.

Falling in love with Jake Seresin had felt like finding yourself and losing your sanity all at once.

You had left his live nearly 3 and a half years ago. Left it without a word because you knew that you otherwise wouldn’t had left at all. But you simply were at the edge. Only a hairbreadth away to fully lose yourself and never find it again.

When you had met him for the first time you simply hated him. He was cocky, overconfident, and probably the most annoying piece of shit you ever had the pleasure to meet. And when he noticed how much you hated his presence, Jake Seresin had made it his personal mission to get under your skin.

You were 22, fresh out of college and working on a farm in Texas back then, trying to earn some money to pay of your school depts. Jake had come back home from flight school for the summer, finding in you the perfect way to make his stay at home enjoyable.

It only took him a couple of seconds to notice how inexperienced you were when it came to men. You had always been a book nerd, never been shy or an introvert but you simply preferred your books and good friends over some disgusting frat guys trying to get your V-Card just to brag with it later.

Jake Seresin had been your first. You trusted him in that summer evening on the ground of his dad’s cow stable. You also trusted him hundreds of times after that. He was extremely good at what he did, always telling you how he had ruined you now for everyone else coming after him.

While he was talking about the guys you would have after him, all you did was beg the Universe to never let there be someone else for you. That’s probably the reason you had not had any Sex since you left him.

For a very long time you honestly thought that he might had really ruined you for anyone who could have come after him. Not even regarding the sexual aspect but when it comes to relationships in general. Jake Seresin does relationships like he does flying, even though you have no clue about that, he does them intense.

As much as you loved each other, you hated each other. For every sweet nothing he whispered softly into your ear, he had insulted you in every fight you had. For every kiss you shared, he had taken a piece of you heart when he lied to you.

After you shared that one summer together you had thought it would mean you would share your life.

That’s what you thought for 3 years.

3 years of long distance while Jake went to Top Gun and later was send on missions.

3 years of love, passion, tears, grief, pain, silence, and anger.

A never-ending rollercoaster with one loop after the other, a never-ending cycle until you had to crash the whole amusement park and set it down in flames.

For you own good. Your own sanity.

You had never looked at a man like the way you used to look at Jake.

Not until now. Not until Bradley Bradshaw.

Bradley Bradshaw who was now waving with his hands in front of your face, a mixture of amusement and worry in his brown eyes.

‘Trickster are you okay?’.

‘Sure’, you smiled trying to sort the memories in your brain.

Brandley handed you your phone, which you know noticed he had held in his right hand, a picture of Penny, your boss, was shown on the screen.

‘Hey Penny’, you said hastily into your phone.

‘Hey, honey. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?’, you could hear the curiosity in her voice, after Bradley answered the call for you.

‘No, you didn’t’, you simply said, your mind still consumed by all those memories coming up. ‘What can I do for you?’.

‘I know it’s quite spontaneous, but could you work this evening? They ordered a bunch of naval aviators back to Top Gun and we are quite full.’

‘Sure, no problem. I can be there in 30.’

‘That would be great, thank you! Tell Bradshaw he won’t have to pay for any drink if he makes sure that you come home safe tonight.’

You ended the call, your eyes meeting Bradley’s who beams with a wide smile. ‘I always knew that it was a great decision to help you get this Job.’

You simply rolled your eyes while you stood up and left Robby and Bradley alone to get yourself quickly ready for work. After you sprayed some perfume on your neck and grabbed your wallet, you hasted back into the living room where the boys were sitting in jackets and shoes on.

‘Oh, are you coming with me?’, you asked in surprise while slipping in your Vans. ‘Yeah, the others of our Squad are finally stationed at Top Gun with us, we are meeting them at the bar’, Bob answered, already on his way to the door.

You simply nodded. Now that your thoughts have been around Jake this evening it was hard to tame the beast called anxiety which grows every time you heard that new Top Gun Aviators are coming back.

Of course, you were aware that Top Gun was the school your Ex-Boyfriend finished best of his class, but he always used to tell you barely anything works related. You don’t even really know his callsign. Bagman, Hungman or something like that.

It was surely a risk to befriend naval aviators who were also Top Gun graduates, when you are trying to keep your past as far away as possible, but in the 2 years of you and Bob knowing each other, everything had always went occurring to plan and Jake Seresin had stuck in your past where he belonged.

——————

When Bradley parked his Bronco in front of the Hard Deck and came around to open your door, Robert shot you a knowing grin which you answered in showing him your middle finger. If Bradley had noticed anything of it, he did not show it.

At the bar the three of you split. Robby and Bradley waved you goodbye, Bradley after offering you a kiss on the cheek which set your heart on fire and Bob giving you another knowing glare which made you decide to double everything that will be added to his tap tonight.

You headed behind der bar, where you were greeted by Penny who again thanked you for helping spontaneous. After looking through the bar you definitely understood while she asked for help, even for a busy Saturday the bar was so overcrowded that new guest would barely fit.

But you welcomed the work stress with open arms, it helped you to lead your thoughts from Jake and your past back to Bradley.

The bar was too full, you did not even notice that you have been working for 2 hours now, but then started to wonder why neither Bradley nor Bob had been coming yet to order something. You worries got tamed after you heard a familiar: ‘Hey Trickster’, coming from right behind you. A happy smile growing on your face by noticing Bradley’s voice.

Since you knew what his order will be, you did not even hesitate to turn around and look at him but wandering straight to the little fridge beneath the counter to bring him his favorite beer.

‘Please make it two, honey. On my tab’.

‘Damn it, Bradshaw. How generous of you’.

Your hand which was about to grab the second beer out of the fridge immediately froze.

Please. Please. Universe. God. Whoever is listening right now. Please. NO.

But there he was again.

‘A beer for free and a pretty girl bringing it to me. What a great way to be welcomed back’.

You will never forget that voice. It’s curved inside your heart, your brain, your soul, and every single piece of you he had broken himself.

‘You don’t know if she’s pretty, bagman. You have only seen her back!’, Bradley snorted. If you weren’t to focus on trying to find a way to dig a whole into the ground and make your way to China, you would be giggling about the jealousy in his voice like a lovesick teenager.

You had no chance but face him.

‘Bradshaw, you sound kind of jealous’, Jake Seresin snickered. ‘Does that sexy back belong to your secret girlfriend?’.

Before Bradley had the chance to answer and make the whole situation even more embarrassing, you silently counted backwards from 3 to 1, then turned around and slammed those beers on the counter.

Bradley cleared his throat. ‘Thanks, Sweets’. You nodded; eyes focused on the counter.

‘What a shy little thing, you have found yourself Bradley. Does not even want to look up’.

And as much as you had hoped he would have lost his spell about you, you cannot but feel the anger build up in your chest. The anger no one else but Jake Seresin can evoke so perfectly in you.

‘I am not shy’, you said, voice firm and finally looking up. His mouth hangs up, the witty answer he surely wanted to say died on his tongue. His green eyes went wide and his face pale.

‘Hi Jake. Long time no see.’

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