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ackermansundercut · 3 months

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Swing Dancin'

Summary: She was lucky enough to have a regular gig as a singer at a club in Brooklyn, and he was simply the beautiful soldier she had stolen a drink from.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: 1940’s James Buchanan Barnes is a warning, fluff, no angst, implications of smut but not explicit, my first fic in like 5 years please be gentle with me (If you remember this fic from my bucky account I had in 2018 ily and this is the much better, edited version)

Amber lighting illuminated swirling dresses and sparkling crystal glass, the smell of cigar smoke floating through breezes of laughter spilling from the dance floor and the bar. This was her environment, the comfort she thrived in. Women in dresses and skirts that tickled their legs as they were twirled by men in uniform, enjoying normalcy for as long as possible before loading up and shipping off to fight in the war. Y/N got to observe this environment every Friday night. Sometimes, if she let out a saccharine giggle and held back her vomit when the club manager Louis touched her ass and made sleazy remarks, Saturdays too.

Minutes before her set, Y/N was reapplying her cherry red lipstick to her lips, half listening to the soldier holding her compact for her as he chattered on about something or the other. Maybe complimenting the deep blue of her dress, or the way it plunged just a little more than all of the other girls’ in the room, or her beautiful hair done up in curls. Nothing significant enough for Y/N to pay attention to, and certainly nothing that she hadn’t heard before. The man was less than charming and bordering on leery, and it looked as if he didn’t brush his teeth. Y/N got to her feet gracefully, the click of her heels muted in the noise. She shot the soldier a small smirk of a smile, lightly plucking her compact from his fingers and snapping it shut, slipping it into her clutch.

“Thanks darlin’,” y/n hummed ever so sweetly. She left the soldier slack jawed with an absentminded pat on his cheek and turned her gaze towards the stage, shooting a smile at the band who were finishing up with a fun bit of a jazz jive.

Sammy, the bassist, got the attention of the rest of the band and nodded at them, giving them the cue to wrap up the last few riffs so he could announce the woman just as he had every week for the past two months, since she had moved back to Brooklyn and secured this gig. With a final crescendo of the brass, the band was done, and Sammy was at the mic with a charismatic smile.

“Now, now, now, listen up y’all. I’m glad we’re all havin’ a good time, and it’s about to get a whole lot better! ‘Cause we got one of the best singin’ dames in Brooklyn back tonight!” Sammy shouted the last few words enthusiastically, and there was a chorus of drunken and sober shouts of approval alike accompanied by raucous applause. Y/N rolled her eyes, her smile still adorning her lips and a light flush visible high on her cheekbones. She absentmindedly patted her hair, smoothing her dress once more. In the split second before she was meant to take the stage, movement beside her shoulder caught her attention. With a quick glance to her right, Y/N snatched a glass of amber alcohol out of the oblivious soldier's hand and downed it in one go, the burn welcome in her throat. The man, once he had worked through a moment of shock at what exactly just happened, protested, but when she turned her gaze to him and his greyish blue eyes met her beautiful, enthralling ones, his voice caught in his throat. She dropped her mascara coated eyelashes into a demure wink at the admittedly handsome man, a smile on her cherry lips.

“Thanks for the drink, soldier,” she said sweetly, sparing him one last glance before swanning up the steps to the stage. Her lips curled back in place as she flashed a brilliant smile to Sammy, who handed her the microphone and tipped his hat before moving back to stand beside his bass. She glanced out at the audience, smatterings of applause meeting her in any direction she shifted her gaze.

She recognized a few faces, regulars of this particular club. Others were new. She noticed the soldier she had used as a mirror holder, and the soldier she had stolen the drink from. She had seen him a few times before, and who could forget those eyes? She also recognized a few other faces, a man with whom she had slept with once or twice because he said he drove fast, and she liked feeling alive. A girl who she had saved from a creep, and a few simply damn good swing dancers who made their impression on the singer. The new ones were always the most interesting, though, because she tried to guess who she would see next week, and who, on the off chance, would tip her for her singing.

“Well, aren’t you all just a sweet crowd,” she hummed into the microphone, shooting a dazzling smile at the audience as she adjusted it to her height, garnering her some whistles and shouts of the positive sort, making her smile internally to match the one playing on her lips. Good crowd tonight. “I believe our lovely Sammy over there did a mighty fine job of introducing me, so I might as well go ahead and start singing,” she let out a peal of laughter that was as enthralling as the notes that slid past her cherry lips as she sang. She had one hand on the mic stand, the other delicately placed on the mic itself as she started her first song of the night, a fast jazzy crowd-pleaser about a little bit of love on a hot summer night in Hollywood. She moved her hips as she sang, a smirk or a grin adorning her lips throughout the entirety of her set. She loved watching the crowd dance as she sang, though she couldn’t help the way her eyes strayed to where a specific soldier was dancing with a beautiful girl, though his eyes weren’t on his date. Every single time Y/N unwittingly allowed her gaze to drift to that section of the floor, his eyes were on hers as she moved her hips and sang her pretty little heart out in that sultry, swing voice of hers. Through every song, the slow and the fast, she met his eyes at least once. At one point, during her third or fourth song, he went to the bar and perched himself next to a skinny blonde boy, but never took his eyes off of the woman commanding the attention of the room from the small stage.

Y/N finished her set after her second extra song, pushing the time limit that Louis had set for her, laughter bubbling past her lips as she caught a rose thrown from somewhere in the crowd. She quirked an eyebrow and grinned, facetiously placing it between her teeth and turning to Sammy with an exaggerated curtsy, who without hesitation swung the woman around in just enough dance to give the audience a good laugh.

“I thank you all kindly, you’ve been more than darling. Now, back to the band!” Y/N called out into the microphone before winking at the crowd and descending the few steps to the floor level. As per usual, there were a few people at the base of the stairs telling her she did well, and a few bold men doing their best to take her home with them tonight. She graciously accepted the praise, kissing a few cheeks and reminding everyone she’d be here next week as well. And as soon as she could, she slipped back to the bar, weaving between dancing couples until she was leaning against the hardwood.

“Hey baby, give me something strong,” she called to the bartender, who flashed her a smile and nodded, reaching for the bourbon as he responded.

“Amazing as always, y/n!”

He was just handing her the glass, the cool surface barely skimming her fingertips before it was stolen out of her hand and downed by none other than the soldier she had stolen a drink from at the beginning of the night. She couldn’t help the abrupt laugh that escaped her throat, an eyebrow raised as she raised a hand at the bartender for another drink .

“I suppose we’re even now, aren’t we soldier?”

“I suppose we are, doll,” he said sweetly and leaned against the bar beside her, a crooked smile on his lips. She took a moment to study his face. He was handsome, sure, but it was the easy nature of his smile and the light of life in his stormy ocean eyes that drew her in. He had his hat sitting cocked on his head, and the way his uniform fit perfectly across his broad shoulders made something flutter in her lower stomach. She grabbed her drink from the bartender with a grin of thanks and took a small sip as she examined the man in front of her.

“What did you think of the show…?” She trailed off, opening the door for him to offer his name.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, ma’am,” he shot her another smirk, tipping his hat, “at your service. I think I truly did see one of the most beautiful, best singin’ dames in this country,” James said. There was a light blush threatening to creep up Y/N’s cheeks, but she tilted her chin down for a moment to attempt to keep it at bay. She fluttered her eyelashes a bit, pulling her painted lower lip between her teeth. She hummed thoughtfully for only a few moments before her fingertips were seizing the rim of her glass, and she was downing her entire drink, setting the glass back on the table. James was looking at her with an open expression of amusement and curiosity, and she felt the corners of her lips curling into a genuine smile subconsciously.

“I think you want to ask me to dance, Sergeant,” Y/N stated, her eyebrow raised and mirth dancing in her eyes. James Buchanan Barnes mirrored her expression, nodding after a millisecond of thought with a chuckle and offering his hand.

“Well then, doll, it would be my pleasure if you accompanied me in a dance,” James said. Y/N didn’t respond with words, only settling her hand in the larger, rougher one of James Barnes, allowing him to pull her into the center of the dance floor. He swung her around for more than just one dance, spinning her from left to right and lifting her off the floor into his arms, and then back to the ground to twirl some more. He left her breathless, both from the dancing and his charm. It was as if the expression of joy was glued to y/n’s face, laughter spilling past her lips with each dip and turn. James Buchanan Barnes knew how to dance. Y/N was no stranger to dancing with, well, strangers, but she had never felt so at ease with anyone else. James had an aura to him, a warmth that radiated and filled her chest with more than a few butterflies.

Soon enough, the boys on stage slowed the pace to a smoother, crooning song, and Y/N found herself pressed close to James’ chest. His cologne clouded any sort of thought in her mind, and she couldn’t help but reach up with a delicate hand to rest on his clean shaven jaw. His hand that wasn’t preoccupied on her waist mirrored her touch, sliding up her shoulder to cup the back of her neck. Y/N felt her breath catch between her parted lips as James’ smirk melted into something sweeter, and an irresistible magnetic pull drew their lips together. The moment their lips met, what began as a sweet, soft, first kiss dissolved into one with more heat, more want, more everything and it felt as if every nerve that ran through Y/N’s body had gained a static charge. The noise of the band and the din of the people surrounding the pair dimmed in comparison to the blood rushing through Y/N’s ears, and she went as long as her singer lungs would allow before the burning need for oxygen forced her to pull away from the sergeant's lips. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and he had a boyish grin on his lips when he caught her gaze.

“You wanna get out of here, sweetheart?” James murmured, his voice only audible to her. She nodded, a clever smirk back on her red lips as she looked up at the soldier through her eyelashes.

“C’mon, let’s go to my place,” she said. And they went, James waving to his friend that Y/N had seen him sitting with earlier, and Y/N stopping for a moment to collect her tips from the night. Once outside of the club, James had Y/N pressed against the wall outside of the club for another kiss, his lips cascading down the column of her throat and causing a whine or two to escape Y/N. She interrupted him when a cab finally paid attention to her halfhearted hailing, and she lightly shoved at James’ chest to get his attention and get him into the car before the impatient driver left without them. Y/N managed to give the cabbie her address, a small apartment above a family owned grocery store, before James’ insatiable lips were back on hers.

The pair shared countless kisses in the back of the car, their hands becoming more daring with each minute of the short ride. It wasn’t long before the car stopped and the annoyed cabbie grumbled something or another at the couple, so she tossed a bit of cash over the seat to the driver and grabbed James’ hand, pulling him up the stairs and fumbling with the lock, giggling when James kissed her neck impatiently from behind her. When she finally got the old door open and had taken only a step inside her apartment, James closed the door with his foot and had his hands on her waist as if they belonged nowhere else. He had her spun around and pressed to the door before she even got a chance to catch her breath, and he took a moment to appreciate the dazed look in her eyes. Y/N was less than patient, however, and reached up to tug his face down to hers. She swallowed his chuckles with open mouthed kisses, and his hands roamed the expanse of her back and waist. Her hands fingertips tugged at the ends of the short hair at the nape of his next, and he let out a low, deep groan and moved his lips to the beautiful woman’s neck, then her collarbone, and she responded eagerly, a needy whimper sounding as pretty as her singing graced James’ ears. The soldier groaned lowly at the beautiful noise, and before she knew it, his hands moved again. They were beneath the plush of her thighs, lifting her up. She quickly wrapped her legs around his waist with a quiet giggle, a sweet little noise that had James grinning. He turned and with only a few strides, her apartment was quite small, she was on the bed as he hovered over top of her, running his fingers through her beautiful hair. His dog tags slipped from where they were tucked into his collar, and Y/N had to fight the urge to grab them with her teeth and tug his face right back down to hers. Everything about her was beautiful, and he hungrily took in every detail of her features with ravenous eyes. Her lips were swollen and her lipstick was a bit smeared, her hair slightly tousled. He had left a couple hickies on her neck, and he failed to suppress a grin at the sight. She didn’t fail to notice his beauty, either, and she sent him an alluring smile fit for a vixen.

“I suggest,” Y/N began, one of her hands ghosting up the sergeant's front, “you start taking my clothes off now, Sarge,” she murmured in her breathy, nothing short of sexy voice that had James’s blood flow change direction. He groaned and seized forward to steal another kiss from her before pulling back and tugging lightly at the strap of her dress.

“Yes, ma’am,” his deep voice rattled her to her core, and she grinned. There was a flurry of clothing hitting the floor in a haphazard pile, and Y/N had a fleeting thought that she had never been happier that she didn’t have neighbors.

Y/N woke to golden sunlight dancing across her eyelids and warming the bare skin of her back, a heavy arm draped across her waist tickled her side as fingertips traced invisible shapes onto her skin. She forced her eyelids apart despite the lull of peace in the quiet morning drawing her back to sleep, the corners of her lips tilting into a blissful, surprised smile when she met the gaze of the man sharing her bed.

“Well, Sergeant, didn’t quite expect you to stay the night,” she murmured sleepily, leaning up slightly to press a kiss to James’s lips. It wasn’t something she did often, allowing men to stay the night, let alone greeting them in the morning. He was just different. He sent the dame a grin, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, the gentle motion sending a shiver up her spine. This wasn’t very common for him either, staying the night and into the morning. She was just different.

“What, and leave the most beautiful dame in Brooklyn to wake up alone?” James hummed, shaking his head with a soft smile.

“What a gentleman,” Y/N teased with a laugh, propping her head up with her hand, meeting James’s captivating gaze. She tugged the sheet up slightly, allowing her a bit more modesty under his thoughtful eyes. He was staring at her as if he was a man with a million questions, and she held the secrets to the universe. It was a good few beats of silence before he spoke, his fingers never ceasing their sweeping motions on her waist as he contemplated his words.

“You know, doll, I’ve still got a week before I ship out, and I want to get to know you better, if that’s alright with you,” he stated, and Y/N could’ve sworn she saw the tips of his ears turn a Typically, on the off chance she allowed a man to stay overnight in her bed, the second they began to imply that they wanted to see her again, she cut them off with a sweet kiss and a push out the door. Instead, she silenced the little voice in her head, and she found herself pulling her lower lip between her teeth, barely concealing an elated smile.

“It’s more than alright with me. If we only have a week, I do believe we better make the most of our time together, then. Why don’t we start by going for breakfast, Sergeant Barnes?” She suggested, cursing the girlish butterflies in her stomach. He let out a laugh, almost sounding relieved, and James Buchanan Barnes found himself nodding his head and cupping her cheek with one of his hands, tracing the outline of her lips with his thumb.

“I think that’s a fine idea, sweetheart. And you can call me Bucky.”

A/N I'm so happy to be writing again, even this is just an updated, edited version of one of my favorite fics from my old blog!!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #40s!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #avengers fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #james buchanan barnes #soldier!bucky #bucky barnes x reader

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bippiti · 1 year

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bishops k. brekker

an first kaz fic! lmk what y’all think

pairing kaz brekker x healer/ tailor reader

req yup

wc 1.8k

synopsis after a heist goes terribly wrong, you’re the one who comes to kazs aid

heads up typical soc violence, fighting, broken bones, stab wounds, not proofread

dangling off of a high building wasnt kazs ideal way of spending his friday night. but here he was, covered nails digging into the crumbling roof of some rich merchers mansion.

before going on any further i suppose some back tracking is in order.

a while before one of the dregs monitoring the ports overheard a group of stadwatch talking about some rather valuable cargo. precious gems, fine arts, and antique instruments were all set to come in the following month, and we’re to be delivered to a marcher named Stefan Terpstra.

further investigation from inej led to the discovery of an auction being held at terpstras manor. this of course, meant a heist.

kaz already had the blueprints in his office, saints knew where he got it from. but now all you had to do was figure out what roles to play. since they were all too recognizable you were key to this going well.

while you were first and foremost a healer, you were still a relatively skilled tailor, with the proper materials you could alter someone’s face and have it not revert for almost half a day.

the night before kaz called all of you down ti go over the plan again. after you changed inej and jespers face, they would go to the auction posing as a wealthy couple. while the party before the auction is taking place kaz would sneak into the safe, pick the lock, and then him and matthias would collect everything they could carry. nina would be with them to ensure no hold ups took place, and all the while you and wylan would be on the roof scouting out for potential threats.

it was simple enough, you’d had a million harder jobs than this one. so it was kindve funny how almost everything went wrong

before anything even started there were issues with the clothes. the fabric of the dress inej was supposed to wear was really itchy, and when you peeled it away from her skin you saw the rashes and raised red bumps forming. you fixed it easily, but it still had you pushing for time. once their faces were altered and ready, they were off to the manor.

this is when the second problem came up. after everyone went to sleep following kazs rundown, wylan spent the rest of the night working on a few potassium nitrate bombs. (more commonly known as smoke bombs) he kept a fire on low heat as he mixed sugar and the potassium nitrate together. the combining process took hours, but the yield was impressive. 8 bombs total, 4 for inej, 4 for jesper. and there were 8 left on the table as he came up the stairs after hearing the horses set off.

great. since they both were more than capable of holding their own it wasn’t a total disaster, but it was a night wasted sitting at a desk.

once you all arrived things seemed to be going smoothly, jesper floated from person to person, making conversation and laughing along with other party goers. you could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of jealousy on wylans face before he turned away. while jesper was frolicking inej was say at the bar, nursing a drink that looked to be at least 15 kruge overpriced. while going up the stairs you met with kaz and the others, wylan gave them 4 of the bombs, and w kaz gave them the timeframe. 15 minutes, in and out then they should be done. if they weren’t on the roof in time then they were to rendezvous at the neighboring farm a few roads down.

problem 3: it had been almost 15 minutes and there was still no sign or the others. you checked your watch nervously and you heard wylan kicking at the rocks to your left. on your end things had been fine, no other gangs or stadwatch had shown up.

as of on cue, the door burst open and matthias and kaz ran out

if i’m you hand my been concerned the moment mightve even been funny, kaz had what seemed to be his weight in gold adorned around his neck, and a painting almost as wide as you strapped to his back. matthias wasn’t any better, he had to crown crookedly placed on his head and had bracelets up to his elbows, and what looked to be a violin case strapped to his back.

they were telling at you both to jump into the tree, something about a few bodyguards catching them and nina staying behind to fight a few off.

kaz shrugged off what he had on and gave it over to wylan who put in the bag. matthias followed suit and the propped up the bag and took off. scaling down a building wasn’t kazs forte which is why he was supposed to go back through and out the building, but that obviously wasn’t an option. while you were trying to figure out what to do, some men came through the door and went at you.

growing up you learned how to fight, so you were that bad. as you dodged a punch and countered you saw kaz fighting in your peripheral. instead of having his cane be a part of his weakness, he had managed to turn it into one of his strengths. as he swung it at what seemed to be the last man you straightened your back, letting out a breathy laugh. both of you were bruised and by the inhale you just took you had a rib or two broken. the heavy steps of someone coming up the stares broke you out of your trance. as the woman came up the stairs you wanted to crawl up and die. she was huge her biceps were always as thick as your waist and the look on her face showed she wasn’t here to play.

you were never one to back down though so with a deep breath you began to form your hands. because tailors could alter physical appearance and bone structure you had been trying to take it to the next level. while so far it had only worked on the dead you thought it might work. as you brought your hand up her arms began to pulse, changing shape in an almost grotesque way. she began to stride over to you before a heavy crack made her turn around.

kaz wasn’t really sure what you were doing, but he could tell you were going to have to focus in order to do so. as he began to fight the woman her arms began to.. change. they became smaller, larger, then began to shrink onto themselves. she vegan to maker her way to you again. before he could do anything else he felt his feet tip back and he fell. he opened his eyes to see his hands barely holding onto the brick wall. he prayed to saints he didn’t believe in to help him hold on.

you saw kaz plunge and your mind went on autopilot, you felt your power wash over you and you watched her legs began to shrink, growing smaller and smaller until there were none left at all. in the back of your head you heard someone laugh, it was scary, shrill. it took a moment before you realized it was you.

snapping back into reality you left her there, rushing over to kaz who was by the grace of saints still hanging on. you grabbed him by the arm and yanked him forward, sending you both rather harshly to your backs.

you breathed in once more as you shakily stood, kaz did the same, pain evident on his face. during this whole mess his cane had landed up in the dirt below you both. together you began to long journey back to the barrel.

the door to the slat burst open as you carried a passed out kaz. it was well into the night, so the was nobody there save for the crows and some dregs. as you hauled him over to a table inej and matthias swiped it off, maps and cards fell onto the floor around you all.

you peeled off his clothes later by later, stopping once you got the his shirt. as you unbuttoned it you signaled for the others to leave, you assumed kaz wouldn’t like them to see their ‘all powerful’ boss in such a position.

as your hands ghosted over his chest you let your manic deep putt of you. you mended the broken ribs, the fractured wrist, and the cuts he had gotten on his back. they were deep, but not enough to make them life threatening. as his skin stitched itself together you began to focus on your own. by the time you were done rearranging your own bruises and scrapes you were far too tired to rid his face and body of the bruises. instead, you patched him up, wrapping bandages around his stomach and back before shrugging his coat on over him.

as you bridal carried him up the stairs you took a moment to appreciate his face. you didn’t let yourself stare very often, kaz was observant and he could pick up the slightest of glances. you looked at the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips. they looked soft, kissable even

before you let yourself get too carried away you opened the door to his room, taking his coat, hanging it, and then taking his gloves and placing them at his bedside.

before you left you filled a bowl with warm water, dipping a towel in you began to rub small circles into his face, ridding it of the dried blood that was starting to form. once the water turned crimson you dumped it out.

kaz awoke the next day, he wasn’t in any more pain than he was used to, but he was still bruised beyond belief. he didn’t remember much other than clinging onto you as you both made your way back to the slat.

he brought his hand up to his head, he needed to figure out what had happened. after finding jesper and figuring out what had occurred, he didn’t know what to do. how was he supposed to thank you? how could he in words, explain how thankful he was it was you that saved him, you that helped him. you. you. stupid you.

y/n l/n.

the only person that had managed to win over dirty hands heart

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fic #six of crows x reader #six of crows fanfic #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction

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spoilmesweetieforficssake · 1 year

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This Is Kinda Nice Too (2)

So I know I have requests to be working on - and I am - every request I currently have has a plan sketched out for it, I just need time to get them all written up.

In the meantime, however, I couldn't get this little idea to continue a previous request out of my head, so here it is. Part three may or may not make its way into being.

Can be read alone, but best read as as the follow up to the below (also if these inserted links look odd I'm sorry but it's the only way I know how atm)

You’re not a morning person at the best of times, and a night on a lumpy, creaky camp bed certainly hasn’t changed that. You studiously ignore Janine’s chirpy ‘good morning’, making a mental note to apologise later once you’ve been properly caffeinated.

Speaking of which, there seems to be a distinct lack of a fire going and so currently no boiling water to make the dream of a cup of tea into reality. Not bothering to ask for help or wait for anyone else, you move as quickly as you ever do in the morning to set a new fire going.

You’re making decent progress when a gentle hand lands on your shoulder and a steaming cup of tea is brought into your line of vision. The rumours really were true when they said Barb was a Saint.

“How?”

“There’s an electrical outlet in the little cabin I’m in,” she smiled, settling herself on one of the camp chairs closest to the fire, hands cradled round her own cup of coffee. “I called ahead to check and packed a little travel kettle.”

“If you weren’t already married I’d be proposing right now,” you tell her as you take your first sip of tea. It’s perfect. It’s too perfect. It’s your exact morning tea precisely how you take it. Barbara Howard has never made you a cup of tea in your life. You frown as you lower your cup, meeting Barb’s knowing smile.

“Melissa made it,” she offers by way of an explanation.

You’re not quite sure what to think about that, but it makes you smile. A few moments later the mysterious red head herself appears out of Barb’s tiny cabin, her own mug of coffee in hand. The Kindergarten teacher had the only ‘cabin’, after trying to get out of the trip saying she was too old for camping. Cabin was perhaps a strong word for the small wooden hut, but it did at least boast running water and electricity. The smaller wooden camping pods laid out around it weren’t quite so luxurious, but they were at least wind and watertight.

“I hate to say it, but I think I might be too old to sleep on a camp bed,” groans Melissa as she stretches.

You chuckle. “I don’t think anyone is young enough to get a decent night’s sleep on those beds if yours is anything like mine.”

“Ava, this is not breakfast,” Melissa says flatly as she looks dubiously at the small packet she has been handed by the Principal.

“Of course it is,” the younger woman snaps back. “It says ‘breakfast bar’ right there on the front. Besides, gotta have portable snacks so we can get our scavenger hunt on!”

This gets a collective groan from the group. Ava ignores this and proceeds to fetch a folder.

“Okay, now everyone come get a sheet and take a pencil. The pencils have numbers on them that’ll tell y’all who you’re paired up with. Now remember, it’s not just about collecting all the items on the list, it’s about getting to the end point in the quickest time.”

You end up with Barb and Jacob. Could be better, could be worse, you figure. You look over to see Janine with a look of genuine worry on her features as she looks from her numbered pencil to Melissa, who’s eyebrows are hiked impressively high on her forehead. There might be one less member of your little Abbott family around the campfire tonight if her murderous expression is anything to go by.

Barb, ever the peacekeeper moves forward. You expect her to offer to swap with Janine, so what she says next comes as a surprise.

“Oh Janine, I was hoping you’d end up in my little group. I thought it would give us time to talk. We haven’t had a chance of late with school being so busy,” says Barb. She moves to take your pencil from your hand. “You wouldn’t mind swapping, would you?”

“Course not,” you say, because really, what else are you meant to say? You move to stand next to Melissa, who is now shooting an odd look on Barb’s direction. “I can swap with Barb if you want?”

“What? No!” she quickly reassures you. “I was just wondering if she’d actually lost her mind volunteering to take those two.”

“Oh come on, they’re not that bad,” you reply, admittedly rather half-heartedly.

“You really wanna swap with Barb?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

“Hell no!” comes your immediately reply. “I definitely got the better deal one this one.”

“There’s a shortcut coming up.”

Melissa frowns, looking at the map Ava had provided. She turned it to and fro, not sure where you were seeing any shortcut.

“It’s not on Ava’s map,” you add, coming to stand next to her. You point to where the marked path takes a long, meandering loop. “It’s just here. It leaves the path and cuts out that big loop. It’s a bit steeper, but-“

“You saying I’m too old to take the short cut?”

Your eyes go wide at her words and you immediately start to back track. “That’s not what I said! I said it was a little steeper, that was all!”

She chuckles. “I was just messin’ with ya, kid. So, this shortcut takes some time off, huh?”

“Should do,” you nod. “I only know it’s there because when I first came here it was after seeing pictures on Instagram of the view from the top. There were hints about making the hike quicker in the comments.”

“You think it gives us a shot at beating Ava?” Melissa smirks. The Principal had practically dragged Gregory off at a run at the start of the scavenger hunt.

“It just might,” you grin right back.

“Then I say lets go.”

“Shit!”

“What? What happened, are you okay?” you ask, quickly turning around to inspect the red head.

She waves off your concern with a hand. “I forgot about the list of crap we’re meant to find.”

“Oh that? Don’t worry about that. I found half the things we needed before we even left camp this morning.” You take the list out of your pocket. “We just need a feather, a Y shaped twig and a heart shaped rock.”

Melissa shakes her head, looking at you with a fond smile. “You got this all under control, huh?”

You hope the blush that creeps up your cheeks can be passed off as the exertion of your hike. You’re helpless under her soft gaze. “Didn’t think you’d let me live it down if we came last.”

Her smile turns positively wicked. “You know me well,” she says as she starts the uphill climb once more, treating you to a rather glorious view of her rear. You’re quick to chastise yourself for your blatant staring and fall into step behind her.

“Oh, wow.”

You look up at the softly uttered words to see that Melissa has reached the viewpoint ahead of you. She has a soft smile tugging at the edges of her lips as she takes in the view. You remember feeling the same sense of wonder the first time you saw the landscape falling away before you. Like you were on top of the world.

Abandoning your search for a heart shape stone, you force your legs to take the final few steps to bring you level with the red head. You take a moment to breathe, looking over the expanse of green below you before turning to look at the other woman. Her cheeks are flushed from the effort of the hike, her hair in windswept waves around her face. She looks beautiful. She always does, to you.

She turns to look at you and you immediately duck your head, aware you’ve been blatantly caught staring. That’s when you see it, right in front of your boot. A heart shaped stone. Bending to pick it up, you hold it out to her. “Looks like we ticked off our list.”

“And made it to the top first,” she grins smugly. She proceeds to open the small rucksack she had been toting, shaking out a picnic blanket before producing a bottle of wine. “A little drink to celebrate?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.”

You open your eyes, turning your head to look up to where she sits next to you on the blanket. “I tend to be more relaxed when I’m away from things…people,” you finally reply.

“I’m not people?” she asks, her tone more curious than accusatory.

You pull yourself up until you’re sitting next to her, your knees drawn up to your chest as you look out over the view. It’s easier to talk when you’re not looking at her. “You’re different.” You get nervous around Melissa, yes, but it’s not the same anxiety you feel around others. “You don’t make me feel self-conscious about being me.”

“You know something, kid?” she breathes. “I think that’s one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.”

You feel an arm slip around your shoulders, pulling you into her side. This is why you fell in love with her, you realise. This acceptance of your quirks, your anxieties and your oddities without question. You’ve never even had to explain them to her. She just gets you.

You’re not quite sure you can recall when it started, her understanding, you falling for her, but there is one night that stands out in your mind. Ava had organised staff drinks. It was a bar you’d never been too and it was busy and loud. It had taken having a quiet word with yourself to even make it in the door. Standing barely two steps inside, you had scanned the room, looking for a friendly face, your anxiety rising when you couldn’t find one. It was stupid, you knew, to think that anyone thought you looked out of place for simply taking a moment to stand and search for your friends, but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

It was then that you heard a familiar voice and saw Melissa cutting through the crowd towards you. Her hand found your own, and she offered you a smile before leading you through the busy room to where your Abbott family were gathered. It had been a good night, but as usual, you had struggled to find a way to leave. You knew you were an adult who could leave whenever they wanted, but somehow, you always seem to end up the last to leave out of some misplaced notion of it being more polite than leaving before the night was over.

Melissa had given you an out, seeing you were flagging and offering you a lift with her and Barb. She was forever giving you an out, it felt like. And yet she never made it feel like a burden. You shift until you can lean your head on her shoulder, in almost a reverse of the night before.

“How the hell you beat us?”

You both jump at the sound of Ava’s voice behind you, turning to face her.

“We practically speed walked!” she shouts, dumping a bag beside you clearly containing the contents of the scavenger hunt list. “Ya’ll must have cheated!”

“How?” Melisa questions. “We all left at the same time. You saw us. If I remember rightly, you practically took off like a sprinter out the blocks!”

Gregory appears behind Ava, looking slightly winded. He looks just as surprised to see you as she had. “How the?”

“Skills,” smirks Melissa. “Some of us just have them.”

You jerk awake at the creek of the door of your little hut, squinting in the dark.

“It’s just me,” comes the hiss of a whisper.

Melissa.

“Scooch over.”

“To where?” you grumble, acquiescing all the same, and moving as far to the edge of the small camp bed as you can without falling off. The frame squeaks in protest as the red head joins you on the too small bed. You huff as she manhandles you into a comfortable position, her arm around your waist and her head on your shoulder.

“First you call me old, now you call me fat!” she chuckles as she shimmies in an attempt to get more comfortable.

“Did not!” is all you can manage. “You know I wouldn’t.” You feel her smile against your neck. Yes, the line has definitely been crossed. By both of you. Baby steps to many, it may seem, but giant leaps for awkward lesbian-kind.

“I know I’m just teasing,” she says quietly.

You hum in reply. “One of your many skills.”

“You like it.”

“I like you,” you say quietly, too sleepy to worry too much about your words.

As your eyes drift closed, you feel her lips smile against your skin. “I like you too. This is kinda nice, too.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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garnette-gal · 2 years

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Off-Limits - A Diamond in the Rough Series - Part 1

Hangman x Fem! Reader

Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin knows you’re supposed to be off-limits, yet he just can’t help himself. Unfortunately for him, you’re determined to not be distracted by the handsome hot-shot fighter pilot. Good thing Hangman’s never been a quitter. Reader’s callsign: Diamond.

Warnings: Cursing

Word count: 2,227

Note: I am SO obsessed with Top Gun Maverick right now. So how else do I cope with an obsession? Write a fic of course :) Hope y’all enjoy!

Part 2 is now up! Series Masterlist.

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It was an unspoken rule of self-preservation amongst the next-gen military community that you never fucked with a close relative of an Admiral.

The potential fallout from a disastrous one-night stand or relationship could be enough to ruin a career before it even began. Most were wise enough to not take the risk.

Most.

Then again, Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin had never been one to back down from a challenge.

To be fair, he would argue later, technically you weren’t blood-related to the Admiral.

“Who is that?” Jake had asked the moment he set his gaze on you. He’d watched you from the very instant you’d slid up to the bar, greeting Penny in a way that indicated the two of you were friends.

He lined himself up along the pool table, glancing away when Penny looked in his direction.

Coyote scanned the area that Hangman nodded towards, and when he spotted you at the bar, Coyote did a double-take. A concerned look crossed his face. “Hangman, no. That one is off-limits.” Coyote warned, his voice low.

“Off-limits is not in my vocabulary, Coyote.”

“I’m not joking, man.” Coyote glanced at you to make sure you weren’t listening, and he leaned in closer to Hangman to whisper conspiratorially, “She’s Admiral Kazansky’s goddaughter. Her father died during a dogfight while flying as Iceman’s wingman. She may not be a Kazansky, but the Admiral definitely sees her as one. Don’t even think about it.”

Jake contemplated this. It explained the occasional somber look that passed through your eyes, but he had a feeling the last thing you wanted was his pity.

“Why not?” He pushed, unwilling to give the topic up.

“Beyond it being career suicide?” Coyote rolled his eyes, typical Hangman. Always chasing women. “She’s a fellow fighter pilot.”

“Is that right?” Jake’s curiosity was getting the better of him, and he knew it. He really knew better, but he couldn’t resist when such a pretty thing sat at the bar.

“She graduated from Top Gun last year. Her teammates claim she does exceptionally well in high-pressure scenarios, thus, the callsign Diamond.”

Jake rose a brow as he turned to watch you accept a drink from Penny. He thought that your callsign was appropriate when it came to your appearance. Like a diamond, your rare beauty seemed to sparkle brightly despite the low lights of the bar.

As for you doing well under pressure, Hangman would have to judge that for himself.

Right at that moment, you released a laugh, tilting your head back in a fit of giggles at something Penny said. It did something funny to his chest, a twinge of some sort. Just like that, the dejected look from earlier disappeared.

Good. The thought of you being in a sorrowful state affected him more than he was willing to admit.

The sound of your laugh was tooth-achingly sweet, reminding him of his mother’s homemade pecan pie. One slice was never enough, and he always wanted more.

You would totally be worth the potential peril, he finally decided. Besides, Jake always considered himself a bit of a trailblazer in his own right.

The temptation of having you was simply too much to ignore. Then again, who else would be fit for the challenge other than himself? He was the best there was.

There was simply no way you’d turn down the best pilot of your generation. After all, who could resist Jake Seresin?

Despite his buddies trying to talk him out of it, he stepped away from the pool table towards where you sat at the bar.

“Shit,” Coyote muttered from behind him because he already knew how this would go. You would see right through Hangman.

Jake couldn’t figure out what it was about you that drew his focus to you. Maybe it was the dazzling smile you gave Penny as the two of you talked, or perhaps it was the soft curves of your body that he was already picturing pressed against him, or it could be the self-confidence you exuded that seemed to attract the attention of other males within your vicinity.

But none dared to make their move on you yet, preferring to sit and admire your beauty from afar. They all liked to play it safe, to avoid the risk, but Hangman knew from experience that method was guaranteed to fail nearly every time.

None of them had the guts to approach you, but he did. And he would.

He’d make them all regret it.

-------------------------------------

Penny’s knowing look she shot you just before a male presence shifted into the open seat on your right should have been a flashing red “WARNING” sign.

Leave it to Penny to not give you an escape route. The brunette bar-owner was always up to some sort of trouble. Her dark green eyes glittered with mischief.

“Lieutenant Seresin.” Penny greeted with a polite smile, “The usual?”

Seresin. You thought to yourself, the last name vaguely familiar for some reason.

“That would be great, thanks, Penny.” The man’s voice had the slightest southern accent that softened his words. A muscular tan arm propped against the counter; judging by the beige you could see out of your peripheral, he was still in uniform. The guy had exceptionally good-looking arms, and you knew he had picked the seat next to you on purpose.

A subtle whiff of his cologne invaded your senses, hinting at a warm, woodsy, clean scent.

Your eyes locked with Penny’s and sent her a message through your expression alone. Don’t you dare leave me here with this guy.

Penny’s lips twitched into a delighted look that she didn’t bother hiding before abandoning you to go pour his drink. Traitor.

All you wanted was to have a drink in peace. Was that asking for too much?

Probably, you mused while playing with the condensation accumulating on your cold pilsner glass. Returning to Miramar had brought back old memories you had desperately tried to repress. Memories of your late father, of what your family had been.

Your father had been gone for 10 years. Killed by a hostile enemy fighter over the Baltic Sea while protecting the now Admiral “Iceman” Kazansky. The traumatic experience left you fatherless at 16 years old. Kazansky attempted to fill in the gap as your official godfather, but not even Iceman could patch that hole.

You knew he still felt guilty to this day. It was why he eventually conceded to become your tutor when you insisted you would become a naval aviator, with or without his help.

Your mother wasn’t exactly thrilled at your career choice. But it was your choice regardless. After graduating from Top Gun at the top of your class, one thing was clear, you were born to fly.

Diamond, you’d earned your callsign. You were forged under intense pressure and thrived despite it.

The golden gleam of a naval aviator pin on the male next to you reminded you of why you were back here. A new assignment. You had better things to focus on than deal with flirty aviators.

You were mentally rehearsing your usual line to shut him down when he beat you to the punch.

The sound of your name and your callsign in that smooth voice had you glancing over in surprise.

Your heart skipped; why did he have to be so good-looking?

He was handsome with his square-shaped face and perfectly combed blonde hair. His good looks directly contributed to the confidence he carried himself with.

He was smiling at you, a full grin with dimples and all. The charm and sexual appeal oozed off him in waves.

Studying those sharp green eyes that shimmered with intelligence, you sensed there wasn’t much that escaped his notice.

The corner of his lips turned upward in a smirk as if reading your mind.

He knew your name and guessing by his smug look, he probably knew your relation to Admiral Kazansky and was feeling lucky. Everyone on the base these days seemed to know your late father had been Iceman's wingman back in the day.

“I am.” You tilted your head, “And you are?”

“Apologies for my bad manners.” The man said, not seeming apologetic at all as he extended his hand to you, “I’m Lieutenant Jake Seresin.” The man flashed a smile with perfect white teeth at you. “They call me Hangman.”

You reached out, doing your best to be polite, as you tentatively placed your hand in his for a handshake. The instant your palm touched his, the contact felt like electricity, sizzling up your spine. The heat that followed afterward rushed to your belly.

He squeezed your hand firmly, his eyes darkening as you pulled your hand away a second too soon.

Penny brought by his drink, but you were too focused on putting the puzzle pieces together in your mind to notice Penny venture off once more.

Hangman, it finally clicked. You had examined the plaque that listed the names of all of the 1st place graduates of Top Gun while you attended last year. And Seresin was one of them.

Needless to say, his reputation preceded him. Not in a good way.

Hangman was his callsign, and it seemed appropriate for someone who left his wingman to do whatever he desired. For someone like Seresin, winning was everything regardless of collateral.

Your eyes narrowed at him; you figured he was probably up to another competition this time. Trying to win over the pretty female aviator at the bar, who was, in many ways, off-limits due to your association with Admiral Kazansky.

You decided you’d ask him directly. If there was anything Hangman was known for beyond his arrogance, it was that he could also be straightforward. “What do you want, Seresin?”

“I want a lot of things that involve you, sweetheart.” He winked, and you did your best to squelch the way your heart fluttered at his attention, “How about we start with your number?”

...Was he flirting with you? With a garbage pick-up line? Jesus Christ.

Your earlier guess was confirmed. Seresin saw you as another opportunity to boost his precious ego.

Just another notch in the infamous Seresin bedpost.

You weren’t here to play stupid games. “Do you have brain damage, Lieutenant?” You bit back at him.

Hangman didn't seem intimidated by your insult. If anything, he was enjoying this.

“Not that I’m aware. Perhaps you ought to give me a full examination at my place? Just to be safe.”

Besides the fact that you were only qualified for CPR, that had to be the lamest line from him so far.

You stared at him in disbelief as he watched you smugly. Verbally sparring with Hangman was not something you had prepared for. You despised the fact he was a step ahead of you in the conversation.

“Hard pass.” You rolled your eyes, deciding to return your attention to your drink instead.

"Aww, darlin', you're breaking my heart." Seresin clutched at his chest dramatically as if you had wounded him. "C'mon, just one little number?"

He hovered closer into your personal space, and you considered him for a moment before an idea came to mind.

Alright. Game on, Hangman.

“Fine.” You exhaled an exaggerated sigh and found yourself smiling back when he grinned victoriously at you in a way that lit up his face.

He had an attractive smile.

After scribbling a number on a napkin and you handed it off to the blonde fighter pilot, “Here. Now go bother someone else, Hangman.”

“Talk to you later, sweetheart.” He gave you one last charming wink and then swaggered off towards his friends. Immediately he was greeted with high fives over his accomplishment.

Hook, line, and sinker.

After paying for your tab, you made a quick exit. On your way out, you texted an old friend.

-------------------------------------

Watching you leave, Hangman grinned and pulled out his phone to call the number you'd given him.

He was surprised by how quickly you picked up but quickly recovered. “So, how about a date? I was thinking tonight at your place would be good.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, followed by a snort and a familiar voice "I'm flattered, Hangman, but no thanks."

Hangman froze in his spot, eyes widening in disbelief at the voice he heard over the phone.

Was that...Rooster?

Hangman’s confident tone faltered, “Bradshaw?” Jake’s blood started to thrum with fury as he tried to recollect himself.

“The one and only,” loud music blared in the background, “Diamond gave you my number since you can’t take no for an answer. Guess you can’t have every woman you want, can you, Hangman?”

What the fuck?

Hangman scowled in irritation and a tinge of embarrassment, quickly hanging up on Rooster.

He’d bet his money that you had Rooster’s number memorized since you hadn’t hesitated while writing down the number on the napkin.

Jake had underestimated your quick wit and wouldn't make that mistake again. Next time, Seresin decided. There would definitely be a next time. There was no way he was letting you get away so easily.

The very idea of someone else, like Rooster, making you laugh or smile squeezed him with jealousy. Hangman refused to give up, not when he had finally met a woman that truly captivated him.

Fine then, he gripped his phone tighter. He always enjoyed a good chase.

You had a head start.

-------------------------------------

Notes:

Goddaughter - “A goddaughter is a girl who’s the godchild of one or more godparents—people who have pledged to help with her upbringing....A godparent can still refer to their godchild with that term even after the child becomes an adult.” (Dictionary.com)

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snorky · 7 months

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Ride Into The Sunset, Would I Lie To You? Well I Got Somethin' To Say

Hey y’all! Sorry for not posting a story in a while, I have some works in progress and lots of ideas! I’ve been extra busy in my personal life so I apologize. I thank you all for your patience and support! This story is about cowboyish Arber Xhekaj (I saw a pic of him in a cowboy hat and I couldn’t help myself) and the title is based on “Hang ‘Em High” by My Chemical Romance. I hope you all enjoy this fic, and remember to take care of yourself!

Pairing: Arber Xhekaj x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Slight angst, Mentions of ex-friends with benefits?, (Let me know if I should add anything)

—

Loud, upbeat country music filled the dark-lit bar, jam-packed to the brim with bodies all pressed up against one another. It was a particularly busy Friday evening, where the entire city seemed to pour into the bar more with every hour after sundown. Voices all talking over one another, the stench of beer and whiskey hanging in the air, and a feeling of trouble lingering.

Montréal wasn’t sketchy by any means, it was loud and lively, just like any other city. But it was the people. Even if it was just one person though, it still seemed like he lived through others. Little fragments of him scattered all around the city.

She wiped down the counter, allowing the next patron to be seated and served. “Next! I’m taking whoever is next!” she shouted.

A man dressed in all black sat down, his cologne so faintly recognizable, and it stung her like a sharp memory. She felt his smirk. She knew every detail of his stupid smirk, even with her back turned to him.

“Hey, angel.” He placed his hands on the countertop. “Didn’t know you were workin’ here tonight,” he sighed. “If I did, I’d dress up a little nicer for you.”

She turned to look at him, setting the rag down on the counter. Looking into his eyes, it didn’t seem like he was going to want to lose tonight. He was here with a plan, an idea that he constructed himself.

“Don’t call me ‘angel’ Arber. You know how it is now between us.” She gave him a stare before turning around, grabbing a glass to serve him a drink. “Now, how may I help you today?”

Arber looked her up and down, the memories of their past flowing back into his mind. All the heated touches, all the longing stares, every single one of their memories. Some were under the scorching summer sun, the ocean crashing against the shore. Some were under the moon-lit night, the city quiet beneath his apartment.

“Just a neat whiskey, darling.” He drew the last part out, looking up at her. Their eyes locked, a fire burning inside of him. “Take your time,”

She took a breath in, her gaze fixated on him. He looked older now. Darker. More handsome, but she didn’t want to admit that. Although they had only grown apart a few months ago, he seemed more tempting now than ever.

“Alright, neat whiskey coming up for the gentleman.”

As much as she wanted to hate him, or even, as much as she did hate him, she needed to earn an extra tip or two that night. A little sugar-coated lie wouldn’t hurt. Because he wasn’t a gentleman, no. The way he played dirty didn’t help. The way he wouldn’t listen to her didn’t help.

Her hands drifted to the glass and a towel to wipe it down, before setting it down on the counter before Arber, his eyes watching her every move like a hawk. She poured some water into the glass, then poured the whiskey into it, the amber liquid swirling with the water.

He motioned for her to come closer to him with his two fingers, and to his surprise, she leaned closer to him. His hands slowly went up to her cowboy hat, and adjusted it on her head ever so gently.

“There you go, lookin’ like a proper cowgirl now, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear.

She felt a chill run down her spine, her face heating up at his words. It was stupid from how easily he could melt her in his hands like this, but he enjoyed every bit of it. He let out a light chuckle as she walked away to serve the next customer, his gaze fixated on her.

Oh how he hated when her attention was on another patron though, her smile more genuine, her eyes more bright, and what he hated the most, was that she talked to him more sweetly, sugar water dripping from her tongue.

He just missed her so much. He longed for her voice, her sweet gestures that she would give him, even though he didn’t ask for it. She was the most caring person in the room no matter what, even if they were just friends.

Taking a long sip of whiskey, he turned around and looked for his friends who came with him. Without a familiar face in sight besides hers, he got up off of the stool, and made his way to the dance floor, his boots stomping on the ground with each step.

The music continued to flow through the air as if the tension in the bar was nonexistent, humming tunes of acoustic guitars, harmonicas, and gravelly voices. He danced smoothly, his steps solid and precise, the heel of his boot tapping against the ground to the beat of the song.

She’d be lying if she said that he wasn't tempting her. The way his large hands grabbed the front of his belt. The way he looked so concentrated with his tongue poking out between his lips. The way his strong arms flexed underneath his shirt when he danced. She kept her gaze on his figure, those slight shadows that seemed to flow through the dark, and she observed his every move.

Arber looked up, his eyes locking with hers from across the bar, seeing her attention focused intently on him. He smirked, that wickedly enchanting smirk, knowing that he had her focus in his grasp, and she was under his spell. His gaze was focused on her reaction, and he loved how she seemed to tense up with each of his movements, each and every step of his.

He shot her a wink that sent butterflies fluttering in her body, her face flushing with warmth against her will. Thank goodness for the dim lighting in the bar. She didn’t want to be seen like this, her strong exterior faltering just because of him.

But she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Arber was just, too tempting. He was like a mirage of cool water on a hot day. A false paradise to a thirsty creature.

She turned her attention back to the patron in front of her, apologizing briefly. “I’m sorry about that ma’am, what can I get for you?”

“No need to apologize.” The woman smiled sweetly. “Just some water is alright for me.”

She nodded her head and turned around, filling the glass with water, and set the drink down in front of the patron.

As the music came to an end, Arber glanced up, hoping to catch her in his sight. To his disappointment, all he saw was an empty bar, filled with patrons, but no sight of her. He sighed, wiping his palms on his jeans and adjusting his hat.

“Looking for someone, sheriff?” a voice spoke behind him. It was a voice he could recognize so easily, a voice his heart knew by memory, no matter how it could’ve ended.

“Didn’t expect you to see you on the dance floor, sugar.” He turned around slowly, his strong figure bold and overwhelming.

The memories came rushing back again, his eyes glimmered with the same sparkle from when they first met at a party. That one late summer party in September in someone’s backyard where there was laughter, banter, and lively music buzzing in the air. That one late summer party in September they met each other.

“You don’t seem to expect much, Arber.” She looked at him, gazing at his facial features.

He looked at her confusedly, wondering what her words meant. “What’da’ya mean, sweetheart? Callin’ me stupid?”

“Didn’t mean that.” She placed her hand gently against his chest. “Meant that you don’t notice the little things that add up, the deep details,”

Arber leaned in towards her touch, his attention fully on her.

“Just meant that,” she paused, “you always never asked for anything.” Looking up at him with warmth, she noticed something in him.

And just like that, they were back at the party when they first met. He remembered her eyes that seemed to sparkle under the fairy lights, her soft and sweet smile that made his lips smile in return, and her contagious laughter that made him blush. He remembered how he walked over to her as she was grabbing a drink from the cooler, her lovely sundress amplifying her beauty, and introduced himself to her with a simple handshake.

It was a fuzzy memory, his words blurred in his mind, not knowing what he said or even talked to her about, but he knew for sure that he almost fell for her right there. Almost.

Arber didn’t want to hurt her. He never did. He wanted to treat her right. She was too precious to him. Although they had never met before this, he knew about her from mutual friends. He heard stories that sounded like fairy tales about her, how she always carried a gentle smile, a kind heart and soul, and warmth wherever she went. He didn’t believe it at first, assuming that his friends just really liked her. But then he understood.

“I never asked for anything because I wanted to treat you right,” he spoke softly, his hand gently cupping her face. “I never wanted to have it end up like this.”

She leaned into his hand, savoring the warmth of it, memories drifting back to her. She missed him and she knew it damn well. She missed how he held her on the stormy, restless nights, how he laughed at her jokes, how he cared for her tenderly when she was sick that one week. “It’s okay, Arber.” She whispered.

“It really isn’t though, I hurt you and it’s so painfully obvious,” he sighed, his voice cracking.

The bar was now emptied out, chairs up on the tables, silence ringing in the air, and the majority of the lights turned off. It was just the both of them there, close to one another, just like that one September evening.

“Listen to me.”

He looked at her, taking off his cowboy hat and holding it to his side.

“It wasn’t your fault, we both got busy and changed a lot. Life happens.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence stood between them again, and yet they still stood close to each other, afraid that if they let go, they would be apart forever.

“How about I take you somewhere tomorrow?” he asked. “Somewhere that I could treat you right and we can catch up with your favorite meal?”

“Oh, so you already know me, Arber,” she laughed as they both walked out of the bar, the cool breeze rushing past them.

“Just wanna know you a bit more. And proper this time.” He smiled. She was going to see that smile more often.

#hockey #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl writing #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #arber xhekaj #arber xhekaj fic #arber xhekaj x reader #arber xhekaj angst #montreal canadiens #arber xhekaj imagine

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autumnshighlady · 1 year

Text

I’ve Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 2)

NESTA ARCHERON X FEMALE!READER (future Neris x reader)

summary: The day after the disastrous dinner, you and Nest have a talk.

warnings: MAJOR inner circle slander, if you love Feysand and will defend them please do not read this fic for your own sanity, angst, VIOLENCE, gore, flashbacks, implied SA jokes, trauma, literally so much sadness i cried writing

word count: 4.2k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: here it is, part 2! I’m so excited for this fic, I have so many ideas. It’s getting longer and longer in my head so y’all are in for a treat! As always, if you cannot handle some anti Feysand and Inner Circle discourse then I would advise you not to read this and cause drama!

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinons, im more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1

read on ao3

Spotify playlist

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You slept fitfully that night, the events of dinner swirling around your brain. The clash of silver and violet eyes haunted your thoughts, memories of the tense atmosphere barring your mind from rest.

Part of you wished that the Night Court had entirely lived up to its reputation of cruelty, that the High Lord had just thrown you in a cell the second you were healed. You hated the politics and scheming, the fancy dinners where it was expected you had to fall to your knees and thank them for their generosity, then provide whatever they asked in return. Even Lucien was just a pawn in their games, whatever they were playing at.

And whatever it was, you vowed you wouldn’t stick around long enough to get too involved.

Nesta wasn’t at breakfast, nor did she show up for lunch. Throughout the day, you realized that you had gotten used to the female’s presence over the past few months. The space around you felt empty and lifeless, as if the warmth had been sucked out of it. But you gave her space for the first half of the day, knowing she was rattled by last night.

But you could not ignore that gnawing worry in the pit of your stomach. You were aware that if Nesta had her way, she would shut out everyone completely, but destroy herself in the process. When the sun set over the mountains in the distance, you decided to knock on her door.

“Nesta?” You said, rapping your knuckles on the wood.

No answer came, but you knew she was in there, as if you could sense her presence. Slowly, you turned the knob on the door and it clicked open, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. If Nesta truly hadn’t wanted you to come in, the door would have been locked. So you carefully entered the room.

The eldest Archerons sister was sitting on her bed, resting against the headboard with her arms around her knees. The coronet braid had half fallen out, leaving loose strands of hair waving down her neck and shoulders. Her eyes showed no signs of the silver fire, only emptiness. She did not even turn her head to acknowledge you, just continued to stare blankly at the empty fireplace. The room was ice cold, so you grabbed a blanket from the chair and walked over. Wordlessly, you sat down next to her, tossing the blanket over her legs.

“When Feyre and Tamlin returned from Under the Mountain, there was a dinner to celebrate their victory.” You said quietly. “My family was invited. I remember sitting at the dining table, surrounded by food and music. Everyone was celebrating, except your sister. She tried, I’ll give her that, but even I could tell she was miserable. And who could blame her? We were all told what happened in that place, what she had to go through. She was wasting away when she got back to Spring, and when Tamlin locked her up I honestly couldn’t blame her for wanting to get away.”

Nesta blinked once, her only acknowledgement at your words.

“None of us could fathom why she wanted to stay in the Night Court, though.” You continued. “We had heard loud and clear what Rhysand did to her under the mountain, how he twisted her broken arm to force her to make that deal. How he drugged her almost every night and made her dance like a whore for him to piss off Tamlin. I understand that he had a role to play to survive, I cannot blame him for that. But what he did to your sister went beyond that, and none of us understood why she would willingly seek sanctuary with him unless he was forcing her to. That’s why Tamlin went after her so persistently, why he made that alliance with Hybern.

“We were furious, and scared. Tamlin risked our lives just to try and get your sister back by opening up his doors to Hybern. She was worth it to him, but not for us. We never asked for it, but we paid the price. We were forced to live amongst them, tiptoeing around in fear that one wrong look at a Hybern soldier and we’d lose our heads. When Feyre returned to Spring with Tamlin, we had hope again. Hope that, whatever had happened between her and Tamlin, she would maybe try to protect us, the innocent people who asked for no part in this war.”

Your throat closed up. You coughed once, clearing it as you prepared to delve into the most painful parts of your memory.

“But we were wrong,” You continued. “Feyre had no intention of helping anyone in Spring, merely getting back at the High Lord. A few days after Feyre’s return, I was at the manor helping my father collect reports when I overheard a conversation between the priestess, your sister, and Tamlin. That was when I found out what had been done to you and Elain, how Ianthe had given you two to Hybern to be turned into Fae. Believe me, I was happy when Ianthe returned from a stroll in the woods with a shattered hand.

“We felt better when Feyre was back. Tamlin had gotten what he wanted, and Feyre seemed like the type of female who would defend innocent people. For a moment, I thought that maybe the two of them would be able to find a way around Hybern’s agreement, and stop them from taking over the continent. But we were wrong. Feyre valued her vengeance, which I respect. But Tamlin wasn’t the one who paid the price for it, like she wanted him to. She could not separate the people of Spring Court from their leader who had wronged her. It was us who were slaughtered, whose leader was so broken that he did not even try to fight for us. And when things got bad, after Feyre was satisfied that she had torn the Spring Court apart, she ran right back to the safety of Rhysand’s arms.”

A tear fell down your cheek, plopping onto the soft blanket. You weren’t sure how much Nesta knew of your story, how much Lucien or Cassian had told her. Hell, you weren’t even sure about how much she knew about Under the Mountain, based on the way she stiffened when you mentioned what Rhysand had done. Taking a deep breath, you continued.

“The waiting was the worst part. Once we found out what Feyre had done, we knew we were vulnerable. Hybern soldiers went from village to village, slaughtering and pillaging. They left ours for last. We could not run, we had nowhere to go. So we could only wait, sitting there for the other shoe to drop. After a week, they came in the middle of the night. My mother rushed into my room, shaking me awake. I could hear the screams outside, the sounds of swords piercing flesh. But my mother was calm as ever. She stroked my hair and kissed my forehead, telling me how much she loved me. She—”

Your chest heaved in an attempt to contain your sobs. Dragging each word out was like running a knife along an open wound, and every instinct told you to stop, to repress it and never think about it again, but you kept going. For some reason, you felt like Nesta needed to hear it, needed to know that she was not alone in her struggles.

“She gave me a small vial with clear liquid and told me to drink it,” You said. “I asked her why, and she said it would make everything go away. I knew it was poison, aimed to bring a quick but painless death. My mother knew that there was no escaping the Hybern massacre, no way we could get out of it. So she wanted me to die in the easiest way possible, to save me from the suffering that was bound to await me if I lived. So I gulped it down, trying not to cry as she hugged me one last time before grabbing a knife from the kitchen and storming out into the clearing where the fighting was.

“I should have stayed in my room. But I crept out after her a few minutes later, wanting to see if anyone I knew was escaping. I peeked out the window, and saw my mother standing over my father’s lifeless body, kitchen knife in hand. I barely recognized him – half his leg was missing, his face so covered in gore it may have been impossible to identify him if not for the broach on his jacket from Tamlin. My mother swung the knife blindly, screaming in rage. She did not know how to fight, but she tried. I saw as they sliced her chest open, laughing as her blood coated their uniforms. I vomited, which was my biggest mistake. Some of the poison had worked its way into my system, enough to make me groggy. But the rest of the dose I had thrown up, losing my chance at a peaceful death.

“A Hybern soldier heard me, and broke into our house with my mother’s blood still staining his hands. They leered as they beat me bloody, arguing over who would get first turn with me. I begged the Mother to kill me swiftly, so I wouldn’t have to endure their torture. They used their first and their knives, laughing like it was a game. Before they could kill me, I heard a vicious scream. My best friend, Sapphyra, had burst into the room looking for me. She was being trained as a sentry, so she knew how to fight. She didn’t hesitate before swinging her sword at the Hybern soldiers, killing one swiftly before luring them out of the house. I couldn’t speak, if I could I’d have begged her not to do something so reckless. But she lured them out of the house, and they forgot about me. I could hear her, she fought like a lion against them, but there were too many. Through the hole in the wall, I saw as they swarmed her like flies, ripping her head off her body and putting it on a spike. Then everything faded to black, and I woke up in the Night Court.”

You felt thin fingers gently graze your hand, as. Inhaling deeply, you looked down and saw Nesta’s hand gently covering your own. She said nothing, just placed her hand on yours. You almost crumbled apart right then and there at the tenderness from the female who was said to be cold as ice.

“I do not know what happened between you and your sister,” You said carefully. “But I lost everything, everyone, because she decided to take revenge on an entire court for the actions of two fae. I cannot stomach the sight of her sitting here happily, on a mountain of wealth and surrounded by people who have told her that she deserves to be High Lady, after what she did to me and my people. I cannot tolerate being judged by them all just because I am from Spring Court. If she wants to hate Tamlin, fine, but when she looks at me all she sees is him. Just because the only crime I committed was residing in his court.”

You didn’t expect Nesta to say anything. You weren’t sure where she stood with her sister, if she’d try and justify her actions. But the female turned her gaze towards you for the first time – there was still some emptiness to her eyes, but something else was written across her features.

“I am sorry,” She said. “I did not know. Any of that, frankly. All Cassian told me was that you were Lucien’s friend from the Spring Court, we presumed you had gotten injured going off on your own.”

Despite the pain in your chest, you laughed heartlessly. “Of course they conveniently left out the details,” You snorted. “Can’t have people knowing the consequences of their High Lady’s actions.”

“They seem to do that a lot.” Nesta said bitterly.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself to be lashed out at for what you were about to say. “Nesta, what happened?”

She tensed again beside you, and you prepared to be told to fuck off, that it wasn’t your business. You could tell she contemplated it for a split second, but then her gaze softened as she looked at you.

“The Inner Circle hates me for a number of reasons,” She began. “When we were young, my father made a stupid business move and we lost all our fortune. The creditors ransacked our place and forced us to move into a small cottage. Soon after more came and broke my father’s leg in front of us and left him crippled. We had no money, no support. So when Feyre was 14, she went into the woods and started hunting for us. It’s what kept us from starvation. I did nothing to stop her, but neither did Elain, which the Night Court seems to forget. I didn’t want her to hunt, I wanted us to starve, to force our useless father to do something to try and save us, rather than sit in his cot all day. I hated him with every fiber of my being, but Feyre kept hunting.

“But somehow, everyone forgets who prepared the food Feyre caught. Who washed the clothes, kept the cottage tidy and running. Feyre never cooked, she can barely heat up soup. I planned to marry myself off, to lighten the burden for the rest of my family. But then Feyre killed that fae wolf, and Tamlin took her away. I was so confused as to why nobody remembered it, then I realized it was some sort of magic that hadn’t worked on me. We got our fortune back, thanks to Tamlin, and one of the first things I did was hire a merchant to take me into the woods. I tried to find Feyre, I would have offered myself in her place, but we never got through the wall.

“And then somehow we got dragged into all this faerie shit. I was forced to become fae, and then sent here to adjust. I spent my entire time trying to make sure Elain didn’t fling herself off the mountainside. She was so miserable, a shell of who she was before. The inner circle gave her as much time to adjust as she needed, but they never extended the same courtesy to me.”

Nesta laughed bitterly. “I don’t need to tell you about what happened in the War. I’m sure you already know. After it was over, everyone acted like everything was fine. Elain became her perky, delicate self again and the celebrations began. But I did not want to celebrate, it did not feel like a victory. My father died, knowing I hated him and he still tried to protect me and tell me he loved me. There was so much death that day, so many families torn apart and they acted like nothing happened.

“I got my own place, a slummy house outside the city. Feyre and Rhys paid for it. I would have, if I had my own money, but I didn’t. I suspect when my father died his wealth went right into their pockets, when some of it should have gone to me. I started drinking and fucking my way around Velaris. Nobody checked up on me, even Elain, even though I spent weeks glued to her side because I was so afraid for her. When I was checked on, it was at those ridiculous dinners they hosted, where I was watched like a hawk. Amren asked about my powers at every opportunity, as if I hadn’t given enough already. They treated me like a ticking time bomb, so I became one. They’ve all had 500 years to learn how to cope with war. I had months before they decided my drinking and whoring was too much. They staged an intervention, and offered me a ‘choice’. I could go to the human lands, or train at the House of Wind with Cassian.”

“But fae are persecuted and killed in the human lands,” You said. “It would be a death sentence.”

“Trust me, they were well aware of that.” Nesta laughed bitterly. “While they intervened, Elain helped pack up my house. They seized it from me, and I was forced to come here. I never wanted to learn how to fight. There are other ways to heal, to be strong. But my way of healing was too embarrassing, too ugly for them. I didn’t spend hours poetically gazing out a window in silence like Elain. So now I’m stuck here, a discarded thing they didn’t want to deal with.”

Nesta’s eyes were glazed with tears, and you couldn’t tell if you were going to be sick or go on a murderous rampage. Mor and Cassian consumed 8 bottles of wine together at dinner last night, and you didn’t doubt that the Illyrians spent much of their younger years fucking everything in sight. They’ve all done what Nesta did, yet she was being punished for it. You wanted to scream in frustration, let the world know what the leaders of this court put Nesta through.

“We have to get out of here.” You murmured. “We can’t stay locked up in this place.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere.”

Nesta snorted humourlessly. “A nice sentiment,” She said. “But neither of us is making it down those steps. Even if we did, we wouldn’t get far.”

“We’d need help.” You said, picking at a string on the blanket.

Nesta sighed and relaxed back into the pillows, abandoning her defensive crouched position. Her arm brushed yours as she laid back, sending tingles up your skin – it was like being touched with a melody of ice and fire, mixed together.

“As much as you claim to be friends with Lucien, I doubt he’d risk his neck like that to save you.” She pointed out, tipping her head back. “He’s mated to Elain after all, if he thought helping us would put her in danger, all his friendship with you would go out the window, I promise.”

You winced. She was right, as much as you loved Lucien as your best friend, he was a mated male now. You didn’t know how it felt to be mated, but you had heard of other’s experiences. As much as Lucien would want to help you, he wouldn’t risk putting Elain in harm's way. Suddenly, an idea struck you.

“What about his brother, Eris?” You asked, leaning back to rest your neck against the pillows like Nesta had. She turned her head to face you.

“Seriously?” She asked.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, turning your head towards her as well. Your faces were only a foot apart, but you tried not to think about that. “The Night Court hates him. Who better to help us than someone Rhysand cannot stand?”

“Who says he will even help? Do you even know him?”

“Sort of. I spent some time in Autumn visiting Lucien. Out of all his brothers, Eris was the only one who treated me like a living creature, not an object. He was decent and respectable enough.”

You left out the part about the massive crush you had developed on your best friend’s older brother over the years, how you got butterflies every time that cold gaze would soften for a split second when he saw you wandering about the Autumn Court.

“I haven’t heard good things about him,” Nesta said bitterly. “Feyre says he left Mor to die in the woods after they were supposed to be engaged.”

“And Feyre probably tells other courts that you’re an ungrateful whore who is trying to steal from her and Rhysand to make them look bad,” You scoffed. “And that I’m some spy from the Spring Court who is planning the murder of all Night Court babies. So I think it’s safe to say that if they’re wrong about us, they may be wrong about Eris too.”

You felt Nesta flinch at your words, wondering if maybe you had gone too far. But she did not snap back, or get angry with you. She simply sighed, blinking once. Her hair was falling into her face, disheveled as opposed to its usual neat braid. You liked it, the messiness that made her look more relaxed rather than on edge, waiting to strike at whoever glanced the wrong way. There was a softness to her that you were seeing, a cold heart being thawed like the snow on the first day of spring.

“He may only help just to make us a part of whatever game he’s playing and use us against the Night Court.” Nesta warned, looking into your eyes.

“I know,” You said softly. “I cannot deny that he is unpredictable and scheming. But it’s a better alternative than being stuck here having to bend to your sister and her mate’s every whim.”

Silence overcame the room for a moment, as if Nesta was contemplating her choices. It was easy for you to decide which option you’d take, you had no personal ties to the Night Court’s inner circle. But Nesta did – as much as she and her sisters were not on good terms, at the end of the day you knew she still loved them in her own way.

“How would we do it?” She asked after a few seconds. “I doubt we can send him a letter and ask him to drop by without Rhysand or his dogs finding out.”

“We do exactly as they tell us to.” You began carefully. “You train with Cassian, I’ll tell them what they want to hear. We make them see what they want to see – a good female who heals the way they want by training into a warrior, and a Spring Court female who is so grateful for their hospitality they will do anything they ask. Then maybe, we’ll find out what they’re playing at. Once they let us in on everything, or you at least, we have a much better chance of seeing Eris. If Lucien is to be believed, they’re working with him on something.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not their little puppet sent to coerce me into obeying them?” She hissed.

You would have believed the venom in her voice to be serious, if not for the gleam in her gray eyes and the slight twitch of her lips.

“You have figured me out, Nesta Archeron.” You sighed dramatically. “I actually am Rhysand’s personal spy. Darn, you got me.”

She laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. It was like a breeze through an old forest, mystical and echoing. For the first time since you had met her, that laugh was genuine.

“We appeared as quite a united front at dinner,” Nesta pointed out. “They’ll be suspicious if we suddenly go along with everything.”

You hummed, contemplating for a moment. “Maybe we can pretend to fight. Some time when Cassian or Azriel is here since they’ll definitely go telling everyone else about it. We keep our distance from each other, at least when they have eyes on us.”

Those slate coloured eyes that were normally like chips of ice looked saddened momentarily. “I don’t want to do that.” She admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t either,” You choked out. “But we can’t raise any suspicions.”

Without thinking, you reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind Nesta’s ear. She did not flinch, or harden her gaze. She just kept staring at you, looking sad.

“How will we make our plans then?” Nesta asked. “I doubt Azriel is Rhysand’s spymaster for nothing.”

“The books,” You said after thinking for a moment. We leave notes for each other in the books. Smutty romance ones that Azriel wouldn’t be caught dead picking up.”

Nesta chuckled again, and your heart fluttered. Mother above, you could get used to hearing that sound.

“Alright.” She said, “I’m in.”

“We will get through this.” You promised, grabbing her hand. “The next few weeks will be shit. I’ve grown rather used to your company, but if we want out of here we have to be smart.”

“Then we begin tomorrow.” Nesta said. “But could you maybe… stay here for the night? If we have to act like we don’t like each other in the next while…”

Her words trailed off, but you knew what she meant. From the way she averted her gaze, you could tell she felt silly asking this of you. So you gently stroked the back of her hand with your thumb.

“Of course.” You said.

Wordlessly, you got up and grabbed your nightgown from your room, giving Nesta time to change into hers. When you returned to her room, she was settling underneath the covers. You blew out the candle and crawled into the space next to her, laying your head onto the soft pillows. For a minute, the two of you laid there in the dark, facing each other and saying nothing.

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was quiet.

“Yes?” You replied, already drowsy with sleep.

“I’m glad you are here.”

“Me too.”

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

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comfortqueenie · 2 years

Text

In honor of @dontfeeltoohot’s BIRTHDAY, I decided to go out on a limb and make my tumblr debut. I’ve been lurking in the shadows reading everybody’s Steddie content (and obsessing over it), and though I’m nervous, I wanted to share this fic and see if y’all liked it! I wrote this a couple months ago, and have been agonizing over sharing it because you all have set the bar SO HIGH?!?!?? That being said, I thought today would be the perfect day to share a little over 2.6k of early Steddie. I mean, really early.

From the bottom of my heart- I hope you all enjoy!

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“Absolutely not.”

“Steve…”

“It’s out of the question, Nance. We all need to stick together; it’s too dangerous.”

Nancy followed Steve to a corner, both of them exchanging frustrated half-whispers and erratically making use of what little space was available to them in the boathouse. Eddie, Robin, and the kids all watched with slight amusement.

“Well, what do you suppose we do with him?” She punctuated her pause with an emphatic noise and crossed her arms. “He’s a wanted suspect for a high-profile murder case. We can’t just saunter into town with a fugitive!”

“He’s gotten by just fine these past couple of days.” Steve looked at Eddie Munson out of the corner of his eye and shook himself out of his thoughts before they could begin. “Besides, why am I always the one who has to stay behind?”

“Because!” Nancy cupped her cheeks in stress.

“Because, what?” Steve bit at his words. The two of them completely stilled.

“Steve.” Nancy began calmly, lowering her hands from her face and folding them neatly in front of her torso. “We have a very specific itinerary that requires a very specific order and a very specific set of skills. Your skill set will better serve us here.”

“Being the babysitter?” Steve chuckled, defensively.

“Protecting. Taking care of things. Taking care of people.” Steve glanced at Eddie and the kids. Eddie and Dustin were sharing mumbled conversation, and Max was kicking dirt around.

He sighed at that.

“It’s a compliment, Steve.” She meant that.

Steve silently shook his head in thought and pinched the bridge of his nose before raising that same hand defeatedly.

“Nance, I really don’t know wh-“

“Please.”

That stopped Steve in his tracks. He froze at the abrupt tonal shift for a moment, before putting his hand at his side.

“Please, just trust me on this.” Nancy continued, pleading. She didn’t want to offer an explanation. They both gazed at each other with a softness that had lacked mere moments before. One look into those brown doe eyes never failed to completely wreck Steve’s constitution- even now, when they’d both moved on.

Steve blinked, quickly ruffling at his hair in empty frustration.

He didn’t need an explanation.

“…Jesus Christ.” Steve rubbed at the muscles in his face, muffling his voice. He righted himself. “Fine. Keep me updated, though. Seriously. I’ll have the walkie ready.”

“Deal. Thank you.” She gave him a grateful smile and turned to take off.

“Don’t make me regret it… alright?” He caught her by the forearm and made eye contact with her.

“We’ll be quick.” She nodded reassuringly.

In a blur, she took the remaining members of the party out of the shed closing the doors behind her. Steve stood facing the door, massaging his head with a worried sigh.

“So…”

Steve would have jumped out of his skin if he hadn’t become keenly numb to surprises. He turned around to be face to face with Hawkin’s most wanted. Eddie Munson. Clothes dusty, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and an unattainable combination of chaos and neutrality.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, King Steve.” A devilish grin spread across Eddie’s face.

“First time for everything, pal.” Steve moved to sit in a makeshift chair in the center of the room, picking up a catalog for the local hardware store from the floor on the way. Normally he would make an effort to disguise his disdain, but right now, he was just pissed. “I’m assuming you’re alright with comfortable silence?”

Eddie had a way of making eye contact that really took a person out- as if the other man was looking for something within Steve that he couldn’t find. Still, he was met with the same smirk.

“Comfortable silence is my middle name.”

Steve bitterly laughed at the fallacy within that statement.

“Awesome.”

———————

Eddie and Steve basked in that ‘comfortable’ silence for a considerable amount of time. Eddie paced, understandably, trying to turn his attention to a myriad of things that didn’t deserve it. Steve did feel a pang of sympathy. If he were in Eddie’s shoes, he’d probably be just as erratic- if not more so. The guy was honestly handling it pretty well.

Not to mention, Eddie and Steve had a specific history. Steve was never unkind to him, but he also wouldn’t have dared to blink an eye in his direction for the sake of his own reputation. His friends, on the other hand, were absolutely terrible to Eddie. Steve always felt guilty seeing him in the halls.

There was a particular occasion wherein Tommy shoved Eddie to the ground so hard he hit his head. That was the one time he had seen Munson’s facade crack. Steve hung back until the rest of them were far enough away, and wordlessly helped Eddie to his feet. He cringed now, remembering that he waited. Now, Steve was here to protect him. It was painfully ironic. Even worse- Eddie was in far deeper than that day in the halls.

Steve closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. He did have a bit of a headache. Maybe being able to take a quick rest from the constant moving would be nice. Nance, Rob, and the kids could all handle themselves. It would be fine. He stretched his neck, took a deep breath, and gently shut his eyes. He needed a break. For a short time, anyway.

“Hih-nxt!”

Steve immediately opened his eyes and turned his vision to the muffled sound. While he could tell it was a sneeze, it was so quiet he raised an eyebrow in disbelief when he saw Eddie’s face buried in his shirt. As if to confirm, Eddie’s body tensed and wracked with a second stifle.

“HXN-tcht!”

It was certainly a gentler sneeze than what he expected from Eddie Munson: King of the Satanic Panic. He watched as Eddie pulled his face from his shirt, and cleared his throat.

“…Bless you.” He murmured, remembering his manners, and turned his attention back to the dirtied catalog.

The itch temporarily subsided, and Eddie was grateful to find Steve unphased by the quick fit. In fact, Harrington seemed to be trying not to look at him. He knocked himself out of his silent observance.

“Thanks.” Eddie sniffled.

Steve nodded absently in response.

————————————————————————

“H-huh…”

Steve clenched his jaw and turned his eyes to Eddie. A couple of sneezes had morphed into something far worse over the past twenty minutes. The other man looked miserable. Eddie kept reaching to itch his eyes, and his nose, and clearing his throat was getting more painful with every fit. Steve watched worriedly as Eddie’s nose twitched with hitching breaths. It was getting so helpless, Steve nearly rose to assist the poor guy. Before he could, Eddie pitched forward into the collar of his jacket.

“Ugh.. hih! H-hih.. HIT-chuh!”

Steve frowned. Each sneeze was getting harsher. Eddie slumped against the workbench with a huff, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He moved them up and down aggressively in an attempt to relieve the constant itch.

Steve put his magazine down and planted both feet on the floor. He leaned forward with clasped hands, resting his elbows on his legs. It was too frequent to write off as an arbitrary tickle at this point. Something was wrong.

“You okay, man?” Steve couldn’t help but chuckle as Eddie met his eyes with a stony gaze.

“Aggressively okay. Actually, I’m wonderfully okay given the circumstances.” Eddie reassured Steve with a smirk and a nonchalant crossing of his legs. “Why?”

“Well, you don’t sound aggressively okay.” Eddie took a hand to his right eye, scrubbing it with discomfort. Steve leaned back in his chair, cocking an eyebrow. “Got a cold, or something?”

Eddie was impressed. People could say what they wanted about the guy, but he was actually pretty… gentle? He had a specific way of perceiving and being inquisitive that subtly disarmed a person. Eddie couldn’t tell if it was out of a general nonchalant-ness, or if it was something Steve had practiced. He was, like, weirdly good at it. He understood why he was known for his charm, now. He looked back at Steve and shook his head.

“Nah, I think it’s just something in the air. Super bad allergies. To like- everything.” Eddie resigned, surprising Steve, with a wave of the hand and an aggressive rub to the nose. “What I wouldn’t give to have remembered my Claritin, or even one goddamn tissue.” He gestured at the sky.

“You get allergies in November?” Steve asked in disbelief, cocking his eyebrow.

“Every day of every month, sweetheart.” Eddie tilted his head with a devilish smile. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a black bandana, holding it in the air. He continued. “Contrary to popular belief, this is not a stylistic choice. Unfortunately, it would just make things worse. Not to mention, she’s been put to work these past couple of days.” He tucked it back in his pocket.

“Well, Christ. No wonder you’re sneezing.” Steve gestured around them. The surface area of the shed was coated in dust. Not to mention dirt, mold, and other miscellaneous debris. It was an allergy sufferer's nightmare. Steve let out an empathetic wince. “You must be miserable.”

“Honestly, it’s b-been.. hih..” Eddie’s breath hitched, and he pressed his elbow tightly to his face. “Huh-PTCHT! Ugh… excuse me. It’s been the least of my worries.”

Steve paused and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Bless you.” He sighed. Steve wished he could think of a better thing to say.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Eddie waved him off and wiped at his nose poignantly. Steve thought for a moment, before giving in. It was the least he could do.

“Well, here…” Steve dug into his back pocket now, as he stood to meet Eddie at the workbench he was leaning against. Avoiding eye contact with Eddie, he pulled out a neatly folded plaid handkerchief. “You can borrow this. I never use it, anyway.”

Eddie locked eyes with Steve, incredulously. Steve clocked Eddie's discomfort and walked towards him with the handkerchief held out. Eddie remained still as if weighing his options. Steve rolled his eyes, casually grabbed Eddie’s wrist, and pressed the handkerchief into his hand with a nearly imperceptible squeeze. Steve gently smiled, and then gave Eddie a firm nod that clearly meant ‘Blow your fucking nose,’ before looking at his watch to give the poor guy some privacy.

Eddie, taken aback, reluctantly turned away from Steve and gave a couple of soft blows that already began to relieve some of the building pressure in his sinuses.

“Thank you.” Eddie uttered, with a groan of relief.

Dislodging the mounting congestion did, however, make that itch a bit stronger.

“Huh-GNT! H-huh.. hh.. Hi-ptCHxt! Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus Christ is right.” Steve was exhausted just watching the guy. That had to hurt. One hand on his hip, the other raised and clapping Eddie on the back sympathetically. “I mean- shit, Munson. That’s some allergy.”

“You should see me when ragweed happens.” Eddie gave a cock of an eyebrow and a smirk. He rotated to make eye contact with Steve, handkerchief still pressed tightly against his sore nose.

“When ragweed happens?” Steve chuckled, raising an eyebrow back.

“Oh, it happens alright. Catastrophic. Nuclear, some would say.” Eddie folded the handkerchief in half, pushing and prodding gently at his nose with the corner. God, his smile. Steve could see now that the handkerchief was out of the way. There was something so real about it. If he were having a legitimate allergy attack, there wouldn’t be a genuine smile on his face. And yet, Eddie’s eyes didn’t betray him. He was somehow genuinely smiling, still. Well, until his face crumbled once again. Steve watched intently as his smile faded only slightly. Eyes fluttering, and nose twitching, Eddie turned over his shoulder away from Steve.

“HIH-xncht!” Caught in his elbow this time. Eddie flinched. Steve mumbled a blessing that oozed pity.

Eddie made direct eye contact with Steve, slightly taken aback by the fact that the other man seemed to be peering into his soul. He paused for a moment, and for the first time ever, Steve saw a hint of vulnerability seeping through the well-built facade of Eddie Munson.

“Sorry about this, man…” Eddie gave a soft smile that could only signify embarrassment. He gave a quick rub to his nose, and broke eye contact. He looked defeated. Steve felt a pang in heart. Poor thing.

Steve’s eyebrows knit together as he frowned, and gently shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. I feel for you, man, really. That sounds like it hurts.” He meant that, truly. Steve couldn’t begin to imagine what Eddie was going through. He was burning the candle at both ends.

“Hixt-choo!” Eddie muffled a stifle into the handkerchief, groaning as if to prove Steve’s point.

“Bless you.” Steve was sure to say that this time. Any ounce of comfort he could offer to the struggling musician, he would. “You know, if you didn’t hold them back like that, they probably wouldn’t hurt so much...”

“Hih-ngtch!”

Eddie stifled another sneeze into his elbow, almost as if it were a response. Steve shot him a look of exasperation. Eddie shrugged in apology.

“Force of habit.” That was met with a small tilt of the head from Steve. Eddie didn’t continue. Steve didn’t push.

“Maybe I should see if Robin or Nance can grab some meds for you or something?” Steve offered.

“I would hate to put a dent in the mission… huh.. Huh-chiew!”

“Better.” Steve made eye contact with Eddie as he brought his face out of the handkerchief, noting that he hadn’t stifled this time. “…and bless you.”

“Don’t look so worried, Harrington.” Eddie began, in an attempt to ease Steve. He really did seem worried.

“Eddie.” Steve interjected softly. He spoke slowly and carefully. “Just let me help you, man… haven’t the past couple days been hard enough?”

Eddie wavered, staring into Steve’s worried gaze for a couple too many seconds. He chuckled, which made Steve raise an eyebrow. Eddie laughed harder at that.

“I’m serious, man. You’ve gotta calm this down before it gets worse.” Steve insisted, partially frustrated at Eddie’s stubbornness.

“No, no, sorry. It’s just, I never would have guessed. I mean, never would have guessed…” Eddie swiped at his nose, and grinned brightly. “Steve Harrington and I would be having a conversation. Let alone, one so… tender.”

There it was. That smirk. Steve couldn’t help but mirror it.

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve crossed his arms and murmured. “Don’t get used to it, Munson.” The smirk remained.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty boy.” Eddie winked and continued as he walked away from Steve, still facing him. “In the meantime, I’d rather die than stay in this mother-fucking dustbin of a shed. I’m going to get some fresh air, and you’re going to let me for at least a couple of seconds before you drag me back in here-“

Eddie punctuated that sentence with rapid delivery and quickly sprinted out of the shed before Steve could stop him. Rather than going after him immediately, the brunette simply chuckled. He deserved a minute or two of sunshine. In the meantime, he pulled the walkie out of his pocket and to his mouth. Steve cleared his throat.

“Nance. Do you copy?”

“We copy, Steve. Over.” Dustin’s voice peered through shortly thereafter.

“Hey, man. Do me a favor, and grab me some Claritin? High strength, if they have it. The dust here is killing me…” A pause rang out before Steve rolled his eyes. “Over.”

“Copy that. Claritin, high strength. Over and out.”

“Thanks. Out.”

Steve retracted the antenna and spun the walkie-talkie in his hand with a satisfied smile. Hooking the device on his belt, he took a deep breath, and prepared to wrangle Eddie Munson. Always the goddamn babysitter.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, after all.

#snzblr #snzfic #stsnz

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oonajaeadira · 1 year

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For the Love of Fic: January 29

I may have started my busytimes, but this was technically my last week of freedom, so I made the most of it!

Here’s what I enjoyed this week!

🪐 = Year of Themed Creations work!

MARCUS PIKE

The Saltwater Room (iii) and (iv) by @chaoticgeminate 🪐 This brings Kells’ January fic to a close. This is a fun fic that makes me want to check out the game Raft now and I’ve enjoyed the open-water adventure of sailing a flooded world with Marcus and making what we can of it. I’m so excited to see what the February fic holds in store!!!

The Wedding Planner by @toomanystoriessolittletime 🪐 I just loved this. I love a good romcom. Steph puts Marcus in the role of the wedding planner and everyone gets to own their own corner of yearntown here. Just so much fluff, so much fun, I absolutely adore Marcus getting what his heart desires and the reader getting the wedding of her dreams.

PERO TOVAR

The Herbalist: Part 2: The Lies Were More Appealing Than the Truth by @blueeyesatnight No Tovar yet, but we’re getting close. Instead, we get a very good study of Kitty and her brother, as well as a really good feel for the town where the story takes place. Blue is doing a wonderful job at setting the character and tone and I really can’t wait to see this girl get Pero all tongue-tied...

JACK DANIELS

Shaken Not Stirred by @haylzcyon Hoh my gods. This is the kind of smut that gets me going. The kind where our cowboy isn’t a hard dom or a mouthy fool...Whiskey here is... adoring. Content. Reverent. And Haylz’ beautiful style plays beautifully in that zone between hot and soft, emotions and mechanics, folding in on itself over and over into something silky and smooth. This is a sequel to Over Ice, but it does stand on its own. But if you want the sweet before the spice, you can start there with the heart and work your way down.

JOEL MILLER

Symmetry by @words-are-fireproof 🪐 This is a look at Joel Miller, a man with loss and a lot of anger in the world. It hurts that Tommy’s the one who wants to look out for him and the only family he has left, but he just keeps pushing him away and sinking into survival mode. This one’s tough, but really nicely written.

Invitation by @beecastle 🪐 Bee’s doing a Year of Mary Oliver challenge where she uses lines from the poet as inspiration and prompts. This sweet little drabble’s line is “it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world” and Bee uses it to wonderful effect for a moment of noticing something simple and beautiful that the world still has to offer.

Always Thought That I’d See You Again by @ezrasbirdie Twenty years since high school and running into the Miller boys again? Tommy coming into your bar to drink and be friendly and Joel coming by to take care of Tommy. Maybe. Maybe he remembers you from high school. Maybe he helps you close up the bar one night. Maybe he walks you to your car. Maybe I had a swoon reading this. Maybe. I’ll never tell.

EZRA

Ribbons & Wings by @insomniamamma I will never, ever tire of J’s Prickle stories and am always happy to see her drop another. Ezra and Cee post-film, traveling with their hired third, an amazing found family scraping it together on distant and interesting worlds. J’s extention of the Prospect worldbuilding is top-tier and even here, on a world much like our own, she still manages to make it feel alien and wondrous. You don’t need to read the Prickle ‘verse in order--she doesn’t write them in order--to enjoy these stories. But if you haven’t looked into her very rich worlds, I really suggest you do.

DIETER BRAVO

The Worst Fic Ever by @beskarberry Y’all just get on your knees now, because this fic was just crowned king. Like, print this out and put it in your pocket for your worst days and it will cure all. I don’t really do this, but this fic gave me so much giddy joy that I’m gonna give it stars. Five. All of them solid gold. 🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟 Fk. How about five more. 🌟⭐️🌟⭐️🌟 And a raccoon. 🦝

The Roles We Play by @missredherring I love the double-entendre of this title. Rachel reframes Dieter as a man with a pouty little boy inside him, one that needs to be handled gently and told no. One that wants comfort but has to learn to do it by himself. And there’s no spice involved, this is a sweet story...and the reader has way more resolve than I would...

FRANKIE MORALES

I Need A Pilot by @all-the-things-2020 🪐 Putting Frankie--I mean, Franki--into the Star Wars universe and teaming up with Finn and Poe to fly over the mountains in a Resistance run? Yes please! Funny how Poe kind of looks like his friend San-Ti and Franki’s hopper isn’t really built to fly that high, but they’ll make it, right?

You Walk By And I Fall To Pieces by @lesbianhotch This is exactly my speed of being picked up at a bar by someone with as much shy DNA as we all imagine Frankie has. It’s sweet and pretty, and Santi deserves a little peck on the cheek for being a little shit.

MARCUS MORENO

Birthday Party by @dawn-petrichor-world 🪐 Look. You shouldn’t get involved with anyone related to your students. But when it’s Marcus, do you really have a choice?

JAVIER PEÑA

untitled by @unhinged-summer-fun So this self-proclaimed thirsty bitch won’t stop it with the alpha!Javier and I DON’T WANT HER TO. Why does there have to be yearning in the darkness? Why does the timing have to be off? Why can’t we all just have nice alphas?

DIN DJARIN

Year of Small Joys 1 - Hot meal by @keldabe-kriff 🪐 I love the thought of Din learning step by step how to parent and doing his best to get it right. A hot meal can go a long way for a growing little boy... This is super sweet.

GUEST CHARACTER SPOTLIGHT

TESS SERVOPOULOS

To Have and To Hold by @miraclesabound In six short paragraphs, Katie explains the motivation behind the runner that comes for Tess in episode 2 (spoilers, yo) and the calling of like to like. It’s really beautiful and builds on Craig’s sentiments about the kiss...

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alphabetatoes · 2 years

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Roll for Action (e.m. x reader)

a.n.: had this idea for a fic and needed to write it. just a couple o nerds being geeks! not proofread- but when do i ever? also if anyone knows how to tab a paragraoh or a keyboard shortcut pls lmk bc every time i press the tab key it takes me to the tags of the posts ;-; anyways- enjoy!

It was the night before the final meeting for Eddie’s latest DnD campaign and you were at the trailer helping to proofread the final bits and pieces.

‘It’s gonna be a shit show, in the best way possible!” Edward “Cause All the Chaos” Munson grinned as he gave you a play-by-play of the final battle.

You adored seeing him get so excited about his passions. Seeing those pretty brown eyes light up any time he spoke on his favorite topics absolutely melted your heart.

It was almost inevitable for him to ask you to help with his campaigns after y’all started to hang out on a rather consistent basis. Since the both of you were invited to join Steve’s group of friends around the same time, y’all had the benefit of being on the same playing field friend & relationship wise. There was no denying that you had developed feelings for him, but you weren’t too sure how he felt. The boy could write a flawless character study on his own DnD creations, but his inner thoughts and feelings were a mish mash of confusion. Sure, you’d caught him leering at you every once in a while, but was it a “I’ve been in love with you ever since we first met!” stare, or was it one saying “Dude, you have something on your face.”

Ed’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“I was asking if you wanted to see how the final boss would meet their demise.”

He played it out for you. It was a masterpiece. Of course it was. You’d expect no less from him.

“I was thinking… what if I added something else?” Eddie couldn’t help but smirk when he asked you.

“I’m listening.” You had no idea where he could be going with this.

“What if I roll to take action?”HIs smirk grew to a grin.

“What type of action are we talking about, Munson?”

“A kiss.” He was nervous- testing the waters to see if he might’ve crit one’d himself before he even got the chance to roll.

“I’ll need you to roll a 20 on that.” The bar was set high, but you were bargaining with whatever higher power to guarantee the die land on the magic number.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” His face changed to one of pure concentration. This was probably the most important roll of his career. The die hit the table with a thud, and you awaited your fate.

“Alright Eddie, show me what you got.”

“Nat 20.”, he smirked. At this point, the both of you were filled with giddiness and struggling not to blush too much.

“A deal’s a deal.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things s4

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hunter-hero-nerd · 3 months

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Bathroom Confessions

Prompt: “I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back.” Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC!Female Hunter (Olive O'Hara) Warnings: Nothing major, alcohol, sex mentioned, flirty fluff A/N: Hey y'all This is my first fic in a while, so please be kind! This is a one shot featuring my oc, Olive O'Hara. I have plans to make a series with her. So if you like this, be on the look out for that!

The Olive O'Hara Chronicles Masterlist! Main Masterlist!

The Impala buzzes with excitement as the three of us make our way to the bar Dean had spied up the road. I tug nervously at my dark wash denim skirt that is just a tad too short. It has been too long since I’ve gotten any, if you catch my drift, and I am out to play tonight. The hunt had gone way better than anyone, Sam especially, thought would go. So, when the older Winchester nearly demanded that we all go out for a celebratory drink, I said yes when I normally would say no. It’s painful to watch Dean flirt with any random girl and take her home.

My crush on Dean, I always thought, had always been hidden until one night, a very drunk Sam proclaimed that it was very evident to him. So, after that I decided to stop putting myself in a situation for jealousy and giving my crush away to the Winchester that shouldn’t ever under any circumstances know. As cliche as it sounds, his friendship means way more to me than any stupid crush.

But tonight, I am going to take a huge step in getting over someone… by getting under someone else. Some townie at the bar would have to do to give me the spark to give others a try. “And here we are! Some random bar! But, who gives a shit as long as they have booze!” Dean cheers from the driver’s seat as he puts the Impala in park in front of said random bar.

We all climb out of the car and I catch Dean eyeing me up as I straighten out my skirt. “You dressed up tonight. Lookin’ good.” He winks seductively then offers his arm playfully. My stomach flutters but I take it as I know that’s how he is. He playfully flirts with most people. Really Sam is the only one who’s safe.

“Well, maybe y’all will be a man short going back to the motel tonight. If I’m lucky.” I say with some faux confidence in my voice.

“You really gonna go home with some rando?” Dean says, stopping us short. Is that jealousy I hear?

“C’mon, you do it. And plus, I’m not your average girl. Remember? I haven’t been a civilian since I was 18.” I look up at his face and see it semi-relax, but he still doesn’t seem happy. He drops the conversation and leads us into the bar. His energy shifts and smirks down at me.

“Who wants a drink!” He says and gets Sam and my drink orders and goes off to the bar.

“Look, an open pool table. Wanna play?” Sam asks me with a smile. He knows I know he can beat me any day of the week, but he loves to torture me. And me being the friend I am, I oblige with a wave of my arm ushering him to lead the way. He racks us up as Dean came back with their beers and my vodka Red Bull.

“Here’s your girly drink.” He says with a smirk as he hands me the drink. I take it and chug at least half in one swig. “Better slow down! I ain’t holding back your hair if you get sick. You’ll have to get your rando to do that.” I roll my eyes and then place my drink on the high top table we had claimed. I pick up my cue and saunter over to the pool table.

“Ladies first.” Sam proclaims as he removes the rack from the table. I set my shot up and break the balls evenly throughout the table. I even sink one.

“Solids.” I call, proud I have a chance to out run Sam’s impeccable game.

“Finally getting good!” Dean cheers from the sidelines. I roll my eyes and line up my next shot. It just so happens to be in front of Dean and I have to lean over a bit. I flip my way too long hair out of my face. I need to cut it but every time I think about it I get upset. So, I like to let it grow as much as I can. “Liking this view, sweetheart.” I hear Dean say and I’m thrown off my game. I miss the shot terribly, and hear Sam’s roar of laughter.

“Guess it’s my go!” He cheers as he sets down his beer and surveys the table. I head back to the table and chug the rest of my drink.

“Want me to help you with your next shot?” Dean quips flirtatiously. I smirk before replying.

“Only if you buy me another drink.”

Many, many rounds later, I am drunker than I have ever been in my life. Dean and I have been playing this back and forth that has completely distracted me from my goal of getting over him. As I finish another drink, the room begins to spin. “Maybe let that be your last one, sweetheart.” Dean says as he catches me sliding off the edge of the bar stool.

“M-you’re probably right.” I say slurring my words. I grab his shirt to try to stabilize myself and look up at him as the world fades around me.

-Dean’s POV-

Olive has been killing me all night. The way she’s dressed, the way she’s carrying herself, the way she’s just existing. It makes it hard for me to not get sucked in and try to avoid all feelings for my fellow hunter. When I saw her down her first drink I knew she was in for a night. She never holds her liquor well and usually once she starts drinking, she turns into a fish. So, how could I let this woman that I cared for get shitfaced and go home with some rando to do god knows what? So, I glued myself to her hip.

Olive starts slipping from her bar stool and I instinctively catch her and slide her back on. “Maybe let that one be the last one, sweetheart.” She mumbles something I can’t quite hear in return and grabs a hold of me. She looks up at me and I see her glassy brown eyes try their best to focus. “Oh, you’re trashed.” I joke as I feel a genuine smile appear on my face. She mumbles again. “What’s that?”

“Dean, I don’t feel good…” Her voice is small and almost embarrassed.

“Okay! Bathroom!” I say without a second thought, scooping her into my arms and carrying her to the single bathroom. We’re barely in the room when she rushes to the toilet and pukes up all the vodka she’d been drinking. I follow her and sweep her long ebony hair out of the way. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” I shush as I rub circles into her back with my free hand. She starts to relax and come back to reality.

“I’m sorry…” She whispers as she sits back a little, wiping her mouth.

“Don’t start with the I’m sorrys. Once you start, you don’t stop, Drunk Oli.” She looks up at me with her beautiful eyes.

“I love you, Dean. Like. Love you love you.”

“I would love to hear those words in any other place than this bathroom, holding your hair back.” I say as I sweep a few stray hairs away from her face. She whines drunkenly.

“You don’t understaaaand.”

“It’s okay. You can tell me in the morning.” I laugh and help her to stand. “Let’s get you back to the motel.”

#dean winchester #fanfic #supernatural #dean x ofc #fluff #flirty fluff #writing prompt #oneshot #sam winchester

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kithtaehyung · 6 months

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🎧💌not sure if this anon is taken but i got some things i desperately need to get off my chest.

first of all, i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to speak up but also the fact that you’ve brought me out of hiding, MY GOD UR GOOD.

i’ve been a silent reader for a while now, i don’t even know how long. over a year maybe??? whatever, i just know that i stopped by and never looked back. (UR STUCK W ME SORRYYYY)

i’ve been meaning to say something for so long but your writing has become so incredibly personal to me that it scared me a bit. does that make any sense? like being here and experiencing this little community you’ve got felt like a dream. i feel so safe here, and seeing you go back & forth w others also just brings a smile to my face.

realized a while back that i was doing a great disservice by not expressing just how much you’ve influenced my silly little life. i’m doing this thing you see, where i’m trying to be more vocal you know, because wow communication does wonders. so here it goes..

your writing is incredibly intoxicating. your ability to suck readers into this little world of yours? deadly. (NEED YOU ARRESTED IMMEDIATELY).

3tan is what originally roped me in but it also gave me the opportunity to explore you as a writer and i’m eternally grateful that it did! your stories are some of my favorite, hands down. i was fairly new to this world when i found your writing, and when i say you set the bar so high.. yeah… thank you for that tho. truly. changed my life.

it’s been an honor to see you grow and i cannot thank you enough for letting me experience the joy that is your writing. excited to see what the future holds for everyone involved. even though we all face our own realities, it’s nice knowing we can show up here together and just shout into the void. wouldn’t have it any other way :]

anyways, just wanted to stop by, let you know i’m OFFICIALLY ur bitch (mainly yoongi’s tho DAMN HIM), and extend my gratitude for all that you do.

sending love 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

(SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG I DIDNT REALIZE UNTIL NOW BUT THANK U FOR BRAVING THRU IT KISSES xx)

AHHH HELLO, LOVE🥹🤍 that anon emoji combo isn’t taken so of course you can have it! It’s all yours🥳

Apologies that it’s taken me a few days to answer! When I get such amazing messages like this, I want to be sure I respond with the same energy and attention. And fkskfldl it’s been busy as hell so I finally have some time to really sit and thank you for all the kind things you’ve said🫂

First, thank you for even reaching out! I know it takes so much courage, even if you’re sending a message anonymously🥺 but you did it and I’m proud and now UR STUCK WITH ME TOO HAHAHA SORRYYYYY🤪👍 it’s all fun and good vibes here, yeah? The community is what makes everything special. Because we’re all just people getting through life, and this is a place we can just relax and have a good ass time🍊

And thank you for reading three tangerines and staying here for the long haul! It’s been a ride and even if I didn’t know you were with me, I felt a lot of energy from y’all so you have helped me, too.

I’m also happy that all these stories and words and characters have helped you in some way. You’re the reason I keep going despite all the.. idk, shit, life throws😅 Because that’s what these fics are all about!

And UR MINE😤 YOONGI GET IN LINE!!! sending you all the love and i hope you keep enjoying your stay!

#we can scream together it’s fine LOL #🎧💌 anon #asks:3tan #3tan #lovely people #calm tag #*ryenfictalk #mailbox💌#long post

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ssaddyhotchner · 2 years

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Love on the Brain- Aaron Hotchner

**not my gif**

WARNING : flirting, mentions of smut, swearing , teeny bit of angst, Hotch being an awkward cutie, Hayley mentioned. Not suitable for minors.

This is my first ever fan fic so please excuse me if it’s not good but let me know what y’all think anyways

Since joining the bureau, you have climbed through the ranks from desk agent to SSA in the prestigious behavioural analysis unit.

A recommendation by none other Erin Strauss you were a part of the team for just under a year and you fit in like you were always part of the family. This was not always the case however, a certain unit chief had it out for you in your first months on the team..scrutinising your every move and questioning your motives when he could.

Aaron Hotchner was an enigma. 6ft 2 he exuded alpha male energy and was a force to be reckoned with in the world of interrogating unsubs and you in your first months at the bureau. This all changed one night when Aaron was looking for a sitter for Jack Strauss called an emergency meeting with all the unit chiefs and Jessica was unavailable due to her caring for Roy. You were finishing up paperwork when you seen him come out of his office rubbing his thumb over his finger in the classic Aaron Hotchner tell. You told him you could watch Jack until the meeting was over. It took a bit of trusting on Aarons half but he agreed.

When Aaron arrived back from his meeting that night he offered to drive you back but you declined telling him you’d get a cab. He reluctantly agreed with you but offered you a drink while you were waiting. You agreed and one thing lead to another and Aaron made you experience things you had never experienced before with any man. He made you come 6 times that night and completely ruined you for any other man.

So here you are just under two months later in somewhat of a relationship with Aaron. He was incredibly hard to read and even harder to get him to trust you wholeheartedly to take the next step in your relationship. It was incredibly frustrating but you couldn’t get enough of him. This was all under the guise of the team thinking the both of you still had your issues and were definitely not engaging in the type of fun that involved various surfaces of Aarons apartment.

SEVEN DAYS. SEVEN. That’s how long this case in the middle of bumfuck nowhere had lasted. The unsub had been apprehended and you got to reunite a daughter with her mother and step-father. Safe to say you were exhausted both mentally and physically. You were also incredibly pent up as you and Aaron had not had sex in seven days, the longest time since you had been “canoodling”. Sure there were fleeting moments and touches when no one was looking even a make out session in the SUV but nothing noteworthy.

To add to your frustrations the jet would not be due to leave the strip until the morning so you were again stranded by both your libido and your actual physical being. The team decided to hit up one of the local dodgy karaoke bars to destress.

“Hey Y/N can you carry a tune beautiful?” Derek asked as the karaoke was being set up behind you.

“I took singing lessons as a kid and my father was in a band all throughout his high school years that’s how he met my mom so I have it in me I guess I just don’t think I have the stage presence……….sober” you laughed.

“We’ll see hot stuff we’ll see” Emily replied.

You glanced over at Hotch ever the stoic and he gave you a quiet nod. As the night went further on the team had rounds under the table and you were fairly “on it” as you Irish relatives would say. You approached Aaron as the team were away dancing and put your hands over his and he quickly snatched your hands away.

“Y/N what are you doing, you know they can’t see us” he whispered.

“Aaron what’s the issue here, Are you worried about your job or are you just ashamed of me” you hiccuped realising how drunk you actually were and feeling your emotions getting the better of you.

“Y/N look it’s not that it’s just….” He sighed. You tried to hold down the tears that were trying to make an appearance failing miserably.

“NO Hotch it must be because as we all are aware Dave and Strauss have been screwing for god knows how long and no one bats an eye. So what is so wrong with me being your girl and not just some secret fuck toy” you shouted.

“GOD you make me so frustrated” you said getting louder and now the whole team has picked up on your argument.

You looked at him again and see the raw emotion in his eyes just bubbling up to the surface. You walked away seeing the teams eyes follow you.

You sat outside the bar taking in a quick breath letting a few tears free.

“Are you okay Bella?” Dave asked.

“Yeah sorry Rossi, look it’s nothing I’m just drunk” you sighed.

“Drunk in love?” He replied

You looked at him in shock

“You don’t think we know about you and Aaron? You guys are so oblivious to the eyes you constantly give each other, it’s quite cute actually” he laughed.

“Well now it’s all screwed up” you said.

“Look Y/N Aaron has never been good at sharing his emotions especially after Hayley but I know he loves you….he’s just afraid”

From inside the bar you could hear one of the bar men asking if anyone was up for a round of karaoke. You swallowed you pride and walked back into the bar but not before saying..

“Well he has a funny way of showing it”

You stormed back into the bar and towards the karaoke stand ignoring Aarons eyes on you.

“Hey pretty thing would you like to come up and sing” he smiled.

“Sure why NOT” you hiccuped again.

You picked “Love on the Brain” by Rihanna as it summed up exactly how you feel about Aaron.

“And you got me like Oh what you want from me, and tried to buy your pretty heart but the price too high…baby you got me like oohhh you love when I fall apart so you can put me together and Throw me against the wall” you sang

You looked directly at Aaron, the team shocked over how good your voice was.

“Oh, and baby I'm fist fighting with fire, Just to get close to you..Can we burn something, babe?And I run for miles just to get a taste…must be love on the Brain yeah…”

The girls cheered you on, wolf whistling you…

“That's got me feeling this way”

“It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good….And I can't get enough….Must be love on the brain yeah….And it keeps cursing my name….No matter what I do, I'm no good without you…And I can't get enough..Must be love on the brain”

Aaron does fuck you good….so good in fact…..But you can’t think of that.

You make it through the rest of the song and given a drunken bow when the bar applauds. You walk over to the bar and you almost think you see Aaron shooting you a cheeky smile…you’re dreaming right?

“Wow girlie, you are WASTED at the BAU, who know that voice could pack a punch” JJ laughed.

“Y/N can I talk to you for a second” Hotch asked.

You gazed at him for a moment. “Sure why not”

The two of you walked over to a booth and he told you to sit down, you obliged and he sat in beside you. Closer than he usually was “in public”

“I’m…not good at this sort of thing” he laughed awkwardly. “With Hayley she was my first girlfriend and I was only with one other person before her”

You were still a little out of it so it came out harsher than expected. “What are you saying Aaron”

“My career has always been so important to me I let it get in the way with Hayley and I think I’m trying to do the same with you because you’re so young and smart and successful”

“ I don’t want you dragged down by some widow..I can’t stay away from you.”

“You complete a side of me I did not even realise I had, you make me and parts of me feel like I’m 25 again” he confessed.

You looked at him in shock, was he really saying this?

He moved to whisper in your ear “When you got up there and sang that song I felt two things…one was so turned on and the other was love or what I think love could be one day…if you aren’t there yet” he kissed the side of your head.

“Aaron, I love you you are every bit of what I see you in you…caring, sexy brilliant and brilliant father and a GOD IN BED” you giggled.

“Can…we give this a try? Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked. You swooned.

“I mean I thought I already was…. but yeah I guess so”

“You guess so” he moved to nibble on your ear, you sighed and he captured your lips in a deep kiss. He swiped his tongue at your lips and your tongues fought for dominance.

“Im still mad at you” you said in between kisses.

“Let’s go back to my place then and I’ll make it up to you” he squeezed your thigh.

“Mmm think you can break our record sir?”You pouted.

“Oh I know I can” he grabbed your hand pulling you up from the booth bringing you towards the exit of the bar waving a quick goodbye to the team.

Meanwhile the rest of the team aside from Rossi and Reid stood in shock at what was going on.

“How long has that been going on?” Derek asked.

“Two months” Rossi and Reid replied at the same time.

“Wait, Kid how did you now?” Rossi looked at the young doctor.

“He was smiling a lot more…and we shared a room one night when we had to double up and I seen scratch marks on his back he whispered, they were fresh and the only girl within a radius of us with a manicure was “Y/N” his cheeks reddening.

“My man..” Derek replied smirking

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #Spotify

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Text

The Night We Met

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Reader

◆

Daddycember Masterlist

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Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: flirty Whiskey, some light touches and kisses, tons of fluff, baby I love you

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A/N: this is so cute oh my god

Also, sorry I wasn’t able to post all three fics on Friday y’all. I’ve been hella stressed and sick, and I’d rather give you guys quality work that’s a little late than forcing something out just for the sake of getting it posted on time. And honestly, I’m so glad I waited because this went in a totally different direction than intended but oh my god I fucking LOVE it.

◆

Agent Daddy Whiskey Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

It’s now been a few days since Jack came home, and you couldn’t be happier. By the time he returned, all of your gifts had arrived. The two of you set aside the next day or so to make sure they were all wrapped and ready for the holidays ahead.

“Jack,” you whine, frowning down at the box he handed you.

“What?” he asks, completely confused.

When you meet his innocent look, you give a light laugh. Looking back down at the box, you can see no one had ever taught Whiskey how to wrap a present. You giggle again, shaking your head.

“You’re not so good at this, huh?” you ask, glancing back up at him with a smirk.

He blushes. Yes, Agent Whiskey blushes. What a sweetie he could be.

“You’re cute, baby.” You smile, leaning in for a quick peck. “Tell you what, you hand me the presents, and I’ll wrap them.”

“Well then, what will I do?” he asks, now pouting himself.

“Um…”

Glancing around the room, your eyes quickly land on the bar. You nod toward it.

“Wanna make me a drink?”

“Eh,” he shrugs. “Why don’t we go on out for one?"

“But we have to wrap the presents, babe. Christmas is only a few days away.”

“We’ll get it done, darlin’. You need a break; you been workin’ so hard all day.”

It’s true; you have. You’d cleaned nearly the entire house, prepping your space for any arriving guests. Both of your families could be a little haphazard with their plans, so you wanted to be ready for anything. You’d also watered the plants, finished the laundry, and even managed to make breakfast and lunch.

“I guess you’re right.” You finally agree, glancing down at your messy living room.

Right after you’d gotten done cleaning it is when you decided to wrap the presents. There was tape, paper, scissors, and boxes scattered around your penthouse floor. Not the best thought out idea.

“C’mon, baby.” Jack grunts, standing up and taking you with him. “Go on and get ready. Daddy’s taking you out tonight.”

You roll your eyes with a grin, swatting his chest lightly before turning and walking off. It doesn’t take you long to get ready, just a quick shower and some makeup. You decide to wear a low-cut bodysuit, knowing Jack will likely take you somewhere nice, finishing off the look with a high pony and some heels.

Jack’s decided to wear a button-up, along with his jeans and, of course, his gaudy belt buckle flask. When he turns around, he smiles, huffing out a short whistle before pulling you into his arms. His smile finds your neck, both of his hands quickly sliding down to your ass.

“Baby,” you giggle, leaning slightly to the side as he moves his mouth against you.

“Babycakes, you look so good in that.”

“I hope so; you got it for me.”

He laughs at your sassy remark, lifting himself from your neck

“Don’t be naughty, now.” he demands, giving your backside a soft tap. “Let’s go, pretty baby.”

Jack was always such a tease, with his words and his fingers and hands. He held your thigh on the car ride there, squeezing you softly every now and then. You lean to your left, snuggling against his arm as he drove on down the road. Likely the nicer bar that sat a few blocks away.

At a red light, he leans over, pressing a firm kiss to your head. Sighing out a deep breath, a contended sigh as glances out the passenger side window. There’s a light dusting of snow, something you’re thankful to see. You’re from the north, and even though it doesn’t snow down here as much as it does back home, you’re happy to see it still.

“You happy, darlin’?” he mumbles, turning his head back toward the road.

“Always am with you.” you murmur in return, warmth blooming in your chest.

Even after nearly three years, you’re lovestruck. You always will be. there’s no one in the world that made you feel safer, or happier than he did.

“Good,” he smiles, finally pulling into the lot. “Because I’m about to make your night a whole lot better.”

When you glance up, you see it. You’re not where you thought you’d be. It’s not the bar close to your home, no, this one is different. This one is special.

“Come on,” he says, kissing your head once again. “Let’s go inside.”

When you take his hand, he leads you inside, and it’s just like you remember it. All wood, dark, brown wood. A few tables off to the side, sitting along the wall lined with windows. The bar is on the right, large and long and with quite a few people sitting at its stools. The lights inside twinkle brightly, the hint of holiday cheer sprinkled throughout the establishment. At the very end of the room sits a small dancefloor, with a single man playing the guitar.

“We haven’t been here since…”

“Since the night we met.” Jack finishes, his chest tightening with an overwhelming emotion.

Without another word, he leads you over to the bar, pulling out a stool for you to sit upon. It’s been so many years since you were last here, since you visited this place with your friends. Since you saw Jack for the first time.

“And she’ll have a vodka cranberry.” He nods, leaning against the bar.

Your cheeks rise with heat, a bashful smile crossing your lips. You loved he did that; it made you feel like his.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom, sugar. I’ll be right back.” he turns, that beautiful smile lighting up the room.

He then walks off, leaving you to in silence for a moment. With eager eyes, you glance around the room. The chairs had been refurnished since you were last here, the leather adorning them now a dark black tone. Further ahead, you see a few couples dancing slowly on the floor, swaying to the soft music being played. It makes you smile; makes you think of when Jack had dragged you up there.

“Hi there,”

You turn your head, meeting the face of an extremely handsome man. Your eyes widen a bit, a small smile forming on your lips.

“Hi,”

“I’m Jack,” he grins, chewing lightly on a piece of gum. “What’s your name?”

Your heart beats with nerves as you introduce yourself, quickly gesturing to your friend to introduce her, too.

“Nice to meet you.” Jack smiles with a nod, quickly glancing at her before returning to you.

“Now, I’m sittin’ over there with a colleague of mine,” he begins, turning to point at the other end of the bar. “and I just can’t help but think,”

He turns back to you, his eyes full of something sweet and sentimental. “You might be one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.”

Your jaw drops slightly, a small laugh huffed out. You can see that he’s older than you, much older, in fact. The man he pointed to on the other end seems more your age, but you aren’t too interested in him. But for Jack’s age, presumably, he looks stunning. His jawline is sharp and his hair is dark, he’s got a beautiful smile and some enticingly sculpted muscles along the biceps beneath his shirt.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he inquires, tilting his head to the side.

Your grin grows wider, your friend giggling slightly behind you before standing. She makes an excuse to go to the bathroom, but you know why she’s really leaving. When she’s gone, your eyes return to Jack. Your eager nod makes him chuckle as he walks around to sit at the now empty stool beside you.

“What would you like, sugar?” Jack asks you, folding his arms against the edge of the bar.

“Hm…” you hum, already enjoying his company. “I usually get a vodka cranberry with sprite.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get.”

He gets the bar tender’s attention, ordering your drink for you and informing the man to put it on his tab. You’d never had another man buy you a drink before, never even had a man talk to you like this before. there’s something overwhelmingly attractive about it. He seems so sure of himself, not exactly cocky but definitely confident.

“So,” you ask, his attention quickly returning to you. “What do you do?”

Jack thinks for a moment, eventually responding with what he usually does. He says he works at Statesman, crafting different liquors as a stakeholder with the company.

God, the way he smiles at you is intoxicating, and you can’t help but reciprocate. Your eyes roam his gorgeous form while he talks. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a white button-down shirt. Even has a pair of cowboy boots on and a hat to match. His voice is deep, laced in a sweet-honeyed tone that comes right from the state you’re in.

Jack does the same, his eyes dipping down whenever you look away. He’d never let himself get caught looking at your cleavage, he’s too much of a gentleman for that. But when you weren’t looking, boy did he take you in. He notices how well your shirt fits you, how tight your jeans appear to be. He likes the way your hair flows down, so pretty and smooth. And your smile, Jesus, your smile really did something to him.

“I feel bad,” you laugh, suddenly glancing over. “Your coworker is all alone.”

“Ah,” Jack waves, “He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

You smile at him, butterflies fluttering wildly in your belly.

“You know, I come here quite often, and I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Yeah, I just moved here a few weeks ago. Still getting settled in.”

“Well, I’d love to help introduce you to the town.” He remarks, taking a sip from his bottle.

“Yeah?”

“’Course,” he says, swallowing his drink. “That is, if you’ll let me.”

“Hm,” you happily hum. “I’d love to.”

Jack’s smile widens, his own cheeks now feeling flush. Then, his eyes fall to the sight behind you, an idea immediately popping into his head.

“You like to dance, sugar?”

“Oh,” you laugh nervously, glancing down at your palms. “I don’t know. I mean, sometimes. But I don’t know how to actually dance.”

“Would you want me to show you?”

“I feel like I’d embarrass you.”

“Pfft,” he scoffs, moving to stand and hold out his hand. “Darlin’, if anything, being seen with you will only make me look better.”

You roll your eyes a bit, grinning softly beneath his gaze. Something compels you to take his hand, so you do. It’s warm, much bigger than your own and slightly calloused around the edges. When you place your hand in his, his fingers curl, holding you firmly while he leads you out onto the dancefloor.

When your feet finally step onto the floor, that’s when your nerves begin to jump. You’re sure that if you had any kind of chance with this man, it’ll be shot out the window after this. Your breathing picks up a bit, feeling him situate your body in front of his. His other hand slowly, carefully, moves to your side.

“This okay, darlin’?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours. His brows are slightly folded, a small look of concern washing over his face.

Your heart beats in your chest at feeling his hand on your waist, swallowing lightly before looking back up at him.

“Yeah, yes.” you stammer out, nodding timidly below him.

His smile returns at your words, his other hand now moving into yours and holding it out to the side. All at once, he begins to sway, side-stepping here and there along to the melodic beat. Your laughs become giddy as he does it, not really giving you a chance to warm up and just diving right in.

It’s weird to say, but it almost comes natural to you. Jack swings you around, guiding you to twirl and curl back into his arms. He can’t stop his smile from growing, can’t stop himself from fully enjoying this moment.

“You like to dance, huh?” you manage out through laughs.

“I sure do.” He returns, “Were you lyin’ about what you said?”

“What?”

“Honey,” he sighs, raising his eyebrows with a grin. “You can dance.”

Once again, you roll your eyes, your smirk splaying widely across your face. He pulls you into him, resting his chest flush against yours. The movement is sudden and almost forceful, prompting a small gasp to slip through your lips. Your lips part as you glance up at him, meeting his deep brown eyes as they stare right back at yours.

“Were…” you whisper, your bodies still swaying lightly to the beat. “Were you lying about what you said?”

You repeat his words, watching his expression change as he thinks back to one of the first things he said to you. But he doesn’t respond, instead, the hand holding yours moves away from your palm. Jack softly cups your face, his brows narrowing slightly with a look of soft admiration.

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you’re doing everything you can to appear calm. Jack’s eyes flicker between yours, your hand rising to hold onto his forearm as his thumb strokes your skin.

He waits for a moment, his eyes then dipping down to your still-parted lips. His tongue pokes out slightly to lick his own before he begins to move forward. It’s slow, calculated, as if he’s almost expecting you to turn away and say no. But you don’t, instead, you lean up, welcoming his sweet embrace. And when you do, the hand on your waist slides around, holding you against him and squeezing you tightly when your lips finally meet.

Jack’s hand stays on your face, his body still pressed against yours while you hold onto his arm, fully leaning into the kiss. His lips are so soft, applying light pressure as he begins to deepen your intimate touch. Slowly, he rolls his head to the side, and you follow his lead, allowing him to move his lips even more against yours. He then takes in a deep breath before ultimately pulling away.

“Baby,” he speaks, the song in the background slowly coming to an end. “You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen.”

Thank you for reading <3

Daddy Whiskey Taglist: @takochansugoi @movievillainess721

General Taglist: @anaaaispunk @dihra-vesa @sweetangel0069 @coaaster @pepascalhoe @evyiione @bport76 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @mswarriorbabe80 @just-here-for-the-moment

#my heart is bursting #baby i love you so much #daddy whiskey #agent daddy whiskey #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #agent whiskey fluff #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey fanfiction #kingsman 2 #kingsman 2 fluff #kingsman 2 fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman the golden circle fluff #kingsman the golden circle fanfiction

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

long days for bad people

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~6k

Being a prized, adored possession was far better than you thought it would be.

warnings: light daddy kink (no age play, just the name in mostly jest), spit kink, crying kink, degradation, brief descriptions of blood + violence, kidnapping (consensual?? read a/n), brat taming, light sadomasochism, mind break, praise kink

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here it is, mafia au, villain hawks, dom, brat tamer, soft(?!) hawks. what more could you want?

there’s briefly described kidnapping at the beginning of the fic but it is reiterated throughout that this is consensual! no yandere/stockholm stuff in this fic.

i’ve been working on this one for a while and i’m happy to finally share it. hope y’all enjoy!!

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You shouldn’t have fucked around with the League.

God, it was common knowledge in the parts of town and circles you inhabited. Of all criminal syndicates, mobs, to fuck with, the League wasn’t one of them. They were known for their complete cruelty and violent delights. The League had such a reputation due to the fact that they openly left bodies carved up and burnt as they pleased.

But, you were a fucking idiot and got involved anyways.

It was a small loan, Giran almost seemed to scoff when he gave you the cash. You and your almost-stranger of a roommate were just very late on some bills and were going to lose a lot of material items if you didn’t scrounge up at least two paychecks in about three days.

You swallowed your pride and took the first and easiest loan you could get. That just happened to be with gap-toothed, wide-grinning Giran of the League. He, you knew from what you’d heard, was somewhat fair in matters like yours.

You had two weeks to pay him back.

...

You didn’t make it in time.

You were close to the amount, notably. You scrounged and clawed your way into getting the cash back. You weren’t much of a pickpocket, but you snagged some odd jobs around the apartment building that you and your roommate were still fortunate enough to keep a room in.

After one particular job, a nasty carpentry gig that you weren’t qualified for, you returned home tired and worn.

Sure, you were a day late on payment. But with this last gig, you were so close. The League would have to pity two, stupid, stupid young girls?

They didn’t, you realized, as you stepped into your apartment.

Your roommate's slain corpse was laying over the arm of your cheap couch, eyes vacant and mouth dripping blood onto the old beige carpet.

You dropped to your knees, horrified and completely stunned.

“You should’ve known better,” it was a hum from across the room, from a figure you didn’t even know was in the room until then. “Really, you’d expect folks to be smarter.”

Your mouth dried as the figure moved from the nighttime shadows, flashing a dazzling smile and ruffling crimson wings.

Hawks.

You’d heard of him, everyone had. Terrifying, fast, precise, and cutthroat. He took orders and didn’t ask questions other than snark. He talked too much, fucked too much.

“W-wait,” You didn't know why you were pleading, but you had to try, right? “I’m so close, wait—”

Hawks sauntered up to you wielding one of his feather blades, the red of blood mixing with the filaments of his feathers.

He crouched down in front of you, tsking, “I don’t like begging, angel. I’ll make this quick for you. Your friend there?”

Hawks jerked his finger behind to your dead roommate.

“She fought, pleaded, begged, all that normal shit I don’t like hearing when shitheads like you two don’t make payday,” his voice was slow, talking about death like some casual thing. “I’ll make this nice and fast if you don’t run your mouth anymore, how about that?”

You swallowed, nodding.

The small percentage of your brain that was fully functioning figured dying quickly was a much better way to go than whatever the hell had happened to your roommate. There was far too much blood for that to be quick.

Hawks hummed, the tip of his feather blade tipping up your chin so you were forced to meet his gaze. You vaguely heard the pitter-patter of your tears hitting the carpet below. Blood rushed in your ears as you stared death in the face.

Hawks appraised you.

You watched the metaphorical cogs and wheels turning in Hawks’ skull as he looked you up and down before flashing forward, gathering you in his arms and flying from the apartment.

Your first thought was obvious as you clung to him in the open air:

He’s going to drop you and kill you.

When you screamed, tears growing thicker, he slapped a gloved hand over your mouth, “I’m giving you an out, kid. Trust me. You’ll prefer this over death.”

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Your new existence was certainly better than death.

If you were ever caught and convicted of any of the illegal things you participated in, you’d be fucked, thrown into prison until you rotted, until you were just dust and bone.

But, until then, you worked for the League.

You had groveled at the feet of their leader, Shigaraki, hands clasped on your lap, claiming your worth, or maybe lack thereof. Not many attachments, not many people who’d miss you, a semi-useful quirk.

With a boot shoved into your skull, he sneered that you’d be the League’s new errand dog.

The real reason they accepted you was due to the threatening air Hawks was exuding and the fact that their old ‘errand bitch’ had died the week prior. They needed a new body to act as a civilian and do things that only an unsuspecting-looking ‘civilian’ could. You fit the bill, and Hawks had taken a liking to you.

Oddly, working for the League was actually pretty okay.

You got your own room. It was small, but you only had to share a bathroom with the somewhat unhinged Himiko, but she was fairly nice once she warmed up to you. Everyone lived in the League’s HQ and went about their business, getting drunk at their bar front each night.

Most of the mess happened at night, but it was important to put on a nice veneer and keep spirits high. Not to mention that no one would dared to fuck with the League, anyways. The cops and federal government had long been paid off due to the resources that the League had acquired for them.

You felt somewhat untouchable.

A lot of this confidence was due to the fact that you had become Hawks’s... Keigo’s...

‘Songbird’

As he liked to call you, anyway.

Keigo was the general, loveable annoyance of the League, but his connections were invaluable and his skills were unmatched. Despite how he could grate on people (read: Dabi and Shigaraki), he was respected and feared just as much as everyone else was, if not more so. And being his metaphorical and literal pet had its perks.

Sure, the first time he had you come to his ‘office’ and he fucked you against the window until it was smeared with cum and blood was a bit surprising, but god, if you didn’t fucking love it. Being Keigo’s personal fucktoy came with protection, pleasure, and a surprising amount of genuine attention. The dude was lonely, and so were you. The two of you made a good ‘couple’, if you could even call yourselves that. The sadism he doled out was always counterpointed by affections that did seem genuine.

Keigo was fond of you, and you of him. Maybe your brush with death had twisted something in your head, to even allow yourself to get close to a man like Keigo, but you couldn’t make yourself care.

You were comfortable and content.

...

[bird boss]: hey babe ;^) get to my office in the next thirty minutes

[you]: what if i don’t

[bird boss]: do u really want to find out

[you]: ...

[you]: im just curious

[bird boss]: don’t get cheeky songbird

[you]: u make me wanna u know

[you]: i know it gets you riled up

[bird boss]: tread lightly kid

[you]: oooo i gave you some guff over text

[you]: what’re you gonna do about it?

[bird boss]: use your imagination

[bird boss]: 25 minutes now, songbird

[bird boss]: don’t make this worse for yourself <3

You set your phone on your cheap duvet, quickly primped yourself to see Keigo. He wasn’t too strict about your appearance but wearing dark clothes and some of the more expensive gifts he’d gotten you over the months he’d been screwing you never hurt. Something about ownership with him always got him hot and bothered.

You tried to remind yourself frequently that Keigo saw you as some sort of possession, but a possession with feelings.

Meandering through HQ was always a bit daunting, despite your protections. Your skimpy outfit choice and hardly-hidden lingerie made you feel a bit more like an object than you liked too.

There were hardly hungry mouths around the League, they kept you all fed, but god, were there starving eyes.

Dabi wolf-whistled as you walked past him through a common room, shouting something about how Keigo was collecting his pound of flesh for the day. Maybe a line or two about being a whore, but that was all flavor at that point. Keigo called you far meaner, more sinful things. And hell, it wasn’t like Keigo hadn’t... shared you on more than one occasion.

Maybe you were a little fucked up for enjoying your lifestyle to the degree you did, but why not indulge where you could? Life was far shittier scraping paint off old fences and picking up cans to just scrape by.

Opulence was a breath of fresh air. And if you were Keigo’s fuck toy? Then, god, you were Keigo’s fuck toy.

When you arrived at Keigo’s office, you knocked gently on the door, quickly adjusting your skirt and blouse.

The door opened, though no one was behind it. Only a single one of Keigo’s feathers allowed you entrance.

His office seemed daunting and extravagant for a man who did most of his ‘work’ in far-shadier, far-bloodier places. The walls were covered in mirrors and old paintings, something out of vanity and pride, knowing how Keigo saw himself. There were several black leather couches scattered around against walls, some stained by your various... activities. There was a broad desk parallel to a back wall made entirely of windows.

Night had fallen, leaving the room lit by a few lamps and warm fixtures.

“Hey, boss,” You hummed as you stepped in, shutting the door behind you just before the lingering scarlet feather flicked the lock on the door.

And the other one.

And the deadbolt.

You swallowed thickly.

As much as you enjoyed a lot of the perks of your... position, it was also daunting.

Keigo was daunting, all bloody colors, vanity, and hunger.

He sat behind his desk, wings puffed up, and partially extended over the back of his chair. The desk chair was massive, specifically acquired so that you would have enough room to properly straddle his lap for hours on end if he so wished.

Keigo idly clicked around on his desktop computer. He leaned slack and back into the chair, legs spread wide and exuding casual confidence that reeked of his own ego.

Keigo normally wore a mix of black and red, as edgy as it was. He liked to seem clean, hide the stains of sanguine that undoubtedly lingered on him no matter how he tried to cleanse himself. His black slacks were pressed, the seams pristine. The black shirt he wore was rolled up to his elbows, the buttons of his red vest undone as well. His black tie hung half-undone and limp around his neck. His tousled gold hair was mussed as normal, ruffled by his flights. His feathers might’ve needed preening, but you doubted that that was the reason he called you to his office.

And based on the deep set of his brow and the sickly smile on his lips, he was already on edge and in a mood.

“Songbird, come over here, will you?” Keigo sat back from his typing, watching you from across the room. He took you in the same way a parched man sucks down red wine, greedily and soon to be fucked. “On my lap.”

You complied, despite your earlier attitude. You padded across the room, going around his desk.

As you moved to straddle his lap, worn hands gripped your waist. His amber eyes gave you a warning, crinkling at the edges, “Not like that, sweetheart. Do daddy right.”

Oh, so it was one of those moods.

Maybe you were Keigo’s sexual punching bag so he could exert control on something he could later kiss better and patch up.

Sure, he was going to fucking ruin you, but part of the fun with him was that the more it hurt, the nicer he was after. And, all things considered, with some of the... other folks the League brought in to satiate its member’s desires, you fared far better. Keigo cared about you, in his own particular way.

You tried to lean over his lap yourself, but his hands and feathers positioned you perfectly as he wanted. With the tight grip he had on your waist and shoulders, dragging you just as he liked, it was easy to see his need for control.

Your head hung off of one of his thighs as you squirmed in his lap. His bulge already pressed into your ribs, a wonderful reminder of the reward you’d reap later on. Keigo’s hands gathered your hand to the small of your back, a feather replacing their grip a moment later.

“Sit with me while I finish this shit,” Keigo grumbled, going back to clicking the desktop. His leg bobbed absentmindedly, his free hand rubbing over the curve of your barely-covered ass. “Be a good girl, (Y/N). If you can stand that.”

He laughed under his breath.

You let your head dangle limply downwards, blood rushing to your cheeks.

You’d thought you’d be in for more of an ass-kicking, but it appeared Keigo was taking things unusually slow. You knew better than to complain, but kicking up a bit of metaphorical sand couldn’t be that bad, right?

“I dunno,” You hummed, kicking your legs lightly. “I don’t think you like it when I’m a ‘good girl’, daddy.”

“Watch it.” A single, sharp smack to your butt was hardly enough to shut you up, but Keigo did so all the same, rubbing over the covered flesh a moment later, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Are you sure about that?” You wriggled, intentionally pushing up against his growing erection.

His breath stuttered, a smirk pulling at the corners of your lips. The hand on your ass didn’t rear again, rather Keigo kept thumbing smooth circles as he continued to click around on the computer. He might have been actually doing work. Or, he was ignoring you, egging your sass on.

“If you didn’t want anything, why’d you call me in here?” You asked, way too cheeky for the way Keigo’s body was practically vibrating underneath you. Pissing him off had consequences, of course, but you weren’t in the mood to play ‘good girl’ that day.

“I told you, I want you to sit with me,” Keigo pinched your ass. “But, you’re too mouthy to do just that one thing. You’re usually better than this.”

“Am I?” You played innocent, craning to give him a wide smile. “Hadn’t noticed. What I am noticing, is your already-hard cock, dear.”

“Oh, ‘dear’?!” Keigo paused on the computer. “Cheeky. Cute.”

Keigo would just dig in more, lean in, before ‘snapping’, if you could call it that.

You gulped as his hand swatted at upper thighs, his nails almost knicking your skin.

“Up and don’t get smart about it.”

Oh, you were going to be remarkably smart about it.

You rose but hardly stayed upright for long. Sliding down to your knees, you pushed at Keigo’s legs, “Wouldn’t you prefer me down here? Just for a treat while you finish your work?”

Keigo clicked his tongue, gaze flickering down to you, “Fine. Behave yourself.”

Yeah, right. You both knew that that wasn’t going to happen.

You were already tucked underneath his desk, undoing the fly of his pants.

You pulled his cock from his trousers, pumping his cock to full hardness. Smearing around preek for a bit of extra flare before inching forward.

Wrapping your mouth around Keigo’s dick was somewhat of a feat— he had a decent girth to him, so you usually took the opportunity to warm him (and yourself) up with a bit of tip-kissing and kitten licks.

But, you were feeling bold.

You spit on his dick, a move that normally would have earned you plenty of verbal snark, but anything Keigo could’ve said to you was swallowed as you took his cock down to the back of your throat.

You sucked around it, massaging the vein on the bottom with the flat of your tongue. Drool began to pool at the side of your lips as you let the head bump your throat, gag reflex be damned.

All the while, Keigo had stopped moving above you. The fabric of his trouser balled up in his ringed-fingers as he gazed half-lidded down at you.

You smiled around his dick, looking up at him innocently as you began to slowly bob your head. His wings fluttered, twitches and air stirring around you.

Keigo stifled a laugh, a hand tangling in your hair, “All that talk earlier and now you’re treating me to a blowjob without even me having to tell you to? Dove, you’re too much.”

You pulled off of him to reply, “I can only try.”

Before he could reply, you spit on his dick again, and went back to slurping around him.

You held the base of his cock in your hands, twisting and spreading spittle. It almost felt like your actions were for show, but Keigo’s eyes were rolling back in his head all the same.

You smirked.

A drool pool from your mouth, puddling in your lap and soaking your skirt. Not like you weren’t already dripping from the sinful sounds Keigo stopped trying to hold.

“A-ah, that’s it, angel,” Keigo fucked into your mouth with his hold on your hair. “Just like that.”

Your hand rose to play with Keigo’s balls, teasing at the sack as he cried out a high moan above you.

Considering the performance you were giving, it was unsurprising to feel him tensing above you. You’d been on your knees for him hundreds of times; you’d learned to see the little twitches and puffs of breath he’d give when he’d get close to coming.

You pulled off his cock with a pop, detangling the hand from your hair in the motion. It was all fast enough that Keigo couldn’t have stopped you in his hazy, pleasure-filled state.

Based on the look of rapid disbelief he was giving you, your trick had worked well. Knowing Keigo’s... tendencies made you hesitant to push him too much in the past, but for whatever reason, you were feeling stupidly bold.

Consequences.

“Sorry, daddy,” You wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand. “Didn’t feel like swallowing today.”

Keigo’s disheveled appearance was more than gratifying. Knowing how easily you made him come undone by that point was one of the perks of your position.

His hair was more than ruffled, strands and tufts chaotically curled around his cheeks and ears. There was a bright blush on his face, spreading from his nose to the apples of his cheeks, down his deck. At some point, he’d popped the buttons at the top of his shirt. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, half-panting and based on the darkness in his brow and the far-too peachy smile on his face, Keigo was fucking pissed.

His wings stood on end.

You gulped from below him.

Maybe you pushed your luck too far.

Maybe.

“You’re playing real cute today, aren’t you songbird?” Keigo didn’t move, but his feathers twitched above him, wings flaring out even farther. “Real fucking cute.”

You were fucked.

Good.

A few feathers flew from Keigo, one snagging at your wrist, wrapping around it, and pulling you up from the desk.

You wobbled as you stood, dragged across the room as Keigo leisurely followed behind you. When you tried to set your own pace, Keigo swatted your ass with a huff, “You never learn, huh? I thought I’d trained you better than this.”

You opened your mouth to spit some dickish retort, but you were cut off as Keigo’s shoved you onto one of the leather couches.

“Don’t.” Keigo’s tone was acidic as he stood over your, wings still flared out. “I told you I wasn’t in the mood for your cute bullshit, dove, and you still decided to test your luck, huh?”

You kneeled on the cushions, sucking down air, shaking with anticipation.

“You don’t feel like swallowing today? That’s fine, I can work with that,” Keigo shrugged easily from above you.

Keigo had an... active sexual imagination, and you could tell by the crook in his lips that he had something devilish planned as retribution.

A sharp slap came down on your cheek, Keigo catching the opposite jaw and keeping you from recoiling too far. You blinked as the pain spread around your skull like licking flames against a frostbitten body.

You wanted more.

A little grin stretched against your mouth as Keigo rubbed at your cheeks with his thumbs, “Aw, you always get so sweet like this, dove. You can be a good girl if you try, can’t you?”

His actions carried candor and his words absolute torment.

Despite how Keigo was trying to goad you into submission, you had a bit of spark left in you.

Plainly, you spit on him.

The glob of saliva landed on Keigo’s cheek, under his eye.

He blinked at you.

You continued to smile.

His own expression grew strained.

“Oh, songbird,” Keigo damn near lamented, wiping away the kind gift you’d given him. His voice was smooth without any bit of waver, all of the sexually-charged anger rolling just beneath the veneer. “You’re just being pain slut today, aren’t you?”

You were, absolutely. You could feel your arousal wetting your panties, the heat of the strike from your cheek beginning to boil something in your gut.

“You just need a bit of special attention today, right? That’s all.” Keigo tsked, fully removing the tie from around his neck. “You just need a little reminder.”

“Reminder of what?” You asked, tilting your head quizzically.

Keigo flipped you, feathers pushing and bracing you as needed while nimble hands tore off your clothes without reverie.

“Plenty of things, especially with this attitude you’ve got today,” Keigo’s tie looped around your wrists, binding them together at the center of your back.

“You definitely need a reminder of who’s the boss around here,” Keigo shoved you forward, stomach flush with the back of the couch.

You reeled from the pace of it all, shifting your knees for any bit of stimulation you could get. Keigo’s feathers were slicing and pulling your clothes from your body faster than you could keep track of. It was overwhelming, making your mind swim in the best possible way. You throbbed.

“Maybe a reminder about who fucking provides for you,” Keigo’s own clothes were shaken off, dropped to the floor and forgotten.

It was true. Keigo always made sure than you were taken care of, in more ways than one. Despite how fast-paced and laid back he could seem, he was always on top of making sure you had more than enough material and immaterial pleasure whether than be in the form of food, fucking, or otherwise.

You yelped as a smack fell across your ass. A feather caught the elastic of your panties, snapping a moment later, leaving you fully bare before him.

Keigo’s worn hand came to press at your throat and jaw, tilting your head back as he climbed behind you, “Maybe, you need a reminder about who keeps you safe.”

This phrase was softer than the others, a sweet kiss pressing to your cheek and his voice a bit more gentle. It was jarring at the skin still stung from his earlier strike, but you cherished the heat besides.

Once again, true. The folks in and outside of the League were greedy. There were plenty of unwanted souls that stole glances at Hawks’s prized songbird. There were starved eyes that tore into you whether you were dolled up for Keigo or not. There had been some... close calls, one could say, but Keigo always was there, in the end, unafraid to get his hands dirty.

“You know what the most important reminder is, dove?” Keigo rolled his hips against you, cock wedging between your thighs.

“N-no,” You stuttered, brain turning gooey as Keigo’s arms snaked around your waist, sharpened nails leaving indents in your hips.

He nosed at your neck, leaving a few love bites in his wake.“‘N-no’, what?”

“I don’t know,” You leaned back into Keigo’s chest, rubbing your thighs around his cock.

“Oh, songbird, you sweet thing,” He chuckled, all teasing and self-indulgent. “I’m the one who makes you feel good.”

He was so right, wasn’t he?

With the way he’d learned your body over the last few months, he’d had some undeniable pursuit to make you feel the best.

Keigo was inquisitive by nature. He had kept you on your back for hours while he finger-fucked you, watching every twitch and roll of your hips to figure out just the right ways to break you. He’d kissed and sucked and slapped every inch of you, sussing out the perfect ways to make you writhe and cry for him.

Sure, you were an absolute terror to him sometimes. Not to mention that Keigo jumping you covered in the blood of that day's targets was as macabre and horrifying as it sounded.

But, fuck, if he didn’t know how to bring you to ecstasy that fucking ruined you in the best way.

Keigo got off on watching you shatter for him. It was the reason he’d torn you from that cheap, bloodied apartment in the first place. A kind, naive little morsel that he could play with as he wanted. You didn’t complain. Fuck, you reveled in his attention. You gave it back to him, like the fucked up, semi-divine being could be any more debauched than he already was.

Corruption spreads, but you’d never complain. If being plucked from struggling for pennies to being fucked stupid by a man who could kill you at a moments notice, a man who would kill for you, somehow poisoned you?

You’d die with a bitter taste on your tongue and a smile on your face.

Keigo rubbed at your clit, nipping at your neck, and rolled his hips greedily. His cock was covered in a mix of your slick and his own preek, easily sliding between plushness of your thighs.

“You love pushing me, acting all tough,” Keigo chastised, clicking his tongue. “I mean it when I say it's cute.”

You don’t have any more quick retorts in you, not when his fingers are down your throat, gagging you as spittle dribbles down your chin onto the leather below. It was sure to leave a mark.

“Behind all that bark and snark, you’re just a good girl, aren’t you?” Keigo punctuated his words with a bite and nip to your neck. “Just needed a reminder, right, dove?”

You whimpered against his fingers at the praise, grinding against Keigo’s touch needily.

His fingers pushed pinched your tongue, breath curling over the shell of your ear, “What are you?”

You mumbled against his fingers, “A g-good g-girl.”

It was humiliating in the best way. Keigo’s light laugh at your attempt. The way he nuzzled his nose into the sweat at the crook of your shoulder was just aloe on the burn.

“I misspoke, if you can believe that,” Keigo’s cock pulled out from your thighs. “Songbird, you know what I meant to call you?”

You squirmed at the loss, but he was quick to hush you. His fingers left your mouth with a thick trail of spit.

“You’re my good girl.”

You melted in his arms.

Falling back against Keigo’s chest, you craned your neck to lock your lips to his.

Maybe that was it, why all the filth didn’t bother you. Because you had worth. Maybe it was insecurity, or maybe it was self-aware in the face of your lived experience. Before being taken, the life you’d lived made you just a rusty cog in a dying machine. You wouldn’t have amounted to anything, probably.

But with the League?

You were the prized, beloved consort of an angry god.

Keigo owned you, body, mind and soul, and you let him. That’s not even to mention how you had him wrapped around your finger. He adored you, under all of it.

Fighting with him was for sport, not blood.

Keigo licked past your lips, pressing his cock to your cunt teasingly. You whined against him, wriggling in his arms.

“What does my good girl want?” Keigo loved making you beg for him, claw for any bit of stimulation. He liked it even better when you were already soft for him.

Stray tears pricked at your eyes, “Y-your cock.”

He pinched the meat of your thigh, shaking his head, “Not good enough. Speak properly, dove. Clear and correctly.”

You swallowed, searching for the words in your own haze.

Your words were willed to be solid.

“I want your cock, daddy.”

It was just enough.

Keigo pushed forward, the head of his cock already stretching your cunt. Consider the girth of it, the lack of preparation stung and burned more than you would’ve liked, as good as it felt to finally be filled.

Keigo cooed at your soft tears, keeping your face to his with a firm hand on your jaw. He shushed you, far too sweetly while licking the salt from your cheeks, “Relax, angel. Big breaths.”

You nodded, sputtering as he speared into you. Keigo’s free hand went back to toying with your clit, encouraging the tension to drain from your body.

As he bottomed out, you shuddered, falling back into his chest. Keigo’s wings fluttered, twitching in wait. Hot breath fanned over your face, Keigo groaning and locking his jaw.

The stimulation was overwhelming. You had expected Keigo to be meaner, considering how mouthy you’d been.

Yet, it made sense. Keigo had figured out one of the better ways to make you break was softness.

(Truthfully, it made him crack in the same way, but he’d never tell.)

“Feel that?” He asked, just barely rolling his hips.

Keigo released your jaw in favor of wrapping a hand around the front of your throat, tugging you as close he could manage.

“Uh-huh,” You panted.

You could, the kiss of his cock head against your cervix was almost uncomfortable. The delicious pressure and sensitivity already had you reeling in his arms, unsteady and wanting.

“I fill you up so good, don’t I?” Keigo praised his own ego, his cock, but he wasn’t wrong. The curve of his cock rubbed against all the right spots. He stretched you just right, the burn ebbing away into a need for more, more—

“Please, Keigo—” You gasped. Your legs shook as Keigo slammed into you, shoving you forward and into the wall.

His pace was brutal. Hands and feathers kept your back in a harsh arch as he rearranged your insides to his liking. He was kind enough to keep stroking at your clit, bruising your hips and babbling filthy nothings.

“I’m the one who makes you feel this good, only me, right, dove?” Keigo growled into your ear with a particularly hard thrust.

You nodded against the wall, aware of the drool slipping down your chin as your mouth lolled open. Your insides were hot like white flames, searing any ability to use coherent speech.

Keigo snickered at your state. Slowing, he gripped your ass cheeks. You yelped, inside jumping as he pried them apart. You flinched, hole twitching as he spat down, the liquid cool against the flushed skin.

It was little moves like that, Keigo just subtly making your shudder and feel dirty that got you the most fucked up and fucked out.

You pressed back on his cock, panting against the wall and keening. You would’ve spoke, if you could, but anything that you had the ability to say would’ve been torn apart by Keigo’s sharpened, silver tongue.

“My filthy little dove, huh?” Keigo sneered, watching you try to bounce on his cock the best you could. “Such a glutton when you get broken down like this, needy whore.”

The pleasure of Keigo’s cock tearing up your insides was all you could focus on through the fog of your mind, desperate and wanting and greedy.

“Y-your,” You corrected, the words bubbling from your lips, disjointed and messy. “Yours.”

Keigo may have been avian, but he purred like a damn cat at your admission. He held you like a possession, cock throbbing as he fucked you just right.

“God, you’re sweet, angel,” He nipped at your jaw before wrapping his hand around your throat. “Even all fucked up, you know who you belong to so well, don’t you?”

You nodded, rolling your hips back.

Keigo must’ve taken pity on you, squeezing at the sides of your neck. Cruel as he could be, he must’ve noticed the way your thighs and knees trembled against the leather. Keigo knew the cloud in your eyes well— how to get you hazy and how to fuck you perfectly through the fog.

He fucked back into your dripping cunt, pace harder and faster than before. You were helpless to do anything other than fall forward into the wall, cheek squished against the scarlet.

“Who’s brat are you?” Keigo squeezed a bit harder at your neck as you swallowed against his palm.

“Y-yours—!” You squeaked out, mind going numb from the stimulation and pressure.

A wicked sneer curled against your ear as Keigo’s movements grew sloppier. His tongue lolled over your shoulder, messy kisses and slobbery bites and marks left in his wake. He was close, but you weren’t far off easier.

“Little bird,” It was sweeter, closer and hotter. “Can you come for me? Come all over my cock?”

You nodded.

“Not good enough.” Keigo bit down, nearly breaking the fragile skin of your neck. “You know I like words, angel.”

You gave him words, plenty of them.

Nearly incoherent pleads and cries poured from your bruised lips as Keigo pounded into you. Each blabbering wail was met with Keigo groans and grunts, condescending little phrases spitting over you without release.

Your lack of leverage and use of your arms made you thumping against the couch and wall, vision darkening on the edges as the pressure in your gut and the hold on your throat remained.

You were breaking in his arms, tears rolling down your cheeks as you held yourself from cresting. The exertion of it all was taking its toll, legs jellied and chest beading with sweat.

Keigo sensed it, shifting his hips to hit the spongy spot in your cunt, “Come, dove.”

You let go.

A sob shattered in your throat as your climax crashed through you. Keigo released your throat, holding you by your bound arms as he bottomed out. His own harsh cry panged against yours as he stuffed you full.

Surprisingly gently, he rocked his hips against your own, letting the ambient throb of your cunt milk him dry.

You came down, rolling and spinning as you sucked down air a bit too fast. Keigo panted behind you, though the sound seemed dull.

The pressure from your wrists released, soft thumbs rubbing at where the fabric had bitten into your forearms, “Hey, angel, you with me?”

You could only nod weakly, exhaustion and aches creeping in.

Keigo repositioned the two of you, setting himself against the arm of the couch, wings up free to drape and splay over the floor. He dragged you with him, pulling you to lay on his chest. The stickiness of his spunk, your slick, and general sweatiness might’ve been uncomfortable, but you weren’t quite lucid enough to care.

“How are you feeling? Still feeling a little mouthy?” Keigo teased, already knowing your answer.

You muffled a groan against his chest, shaking your head against the sweat of his chest.

“Awww,” Keigo chuckled, fingers brushing over your cheeks, “Is my dove a little fucked out?”

“Keeeigo, b-be nice.”

Your voice broke, parched.

Keigo snorted, pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, “I guess I can manage that. Just for you, though. Can’t let the others see me get all soft.”

You wouldn’t; seeing Keigo warm and gooey, both of you mutually fucked-out, was a pleasure only you got to indulge in. And you loved every moment of it.

++++++++++++

taglist: @sinclairsamess (msg me if you’d like to be on it!)

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x y/n #hawks x you #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo x you #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #hawks #hawks smut #hawks fanfiction #takami keigo smut

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Wear Something Else

Angel Reyes x Reader

Request from Anon: I have a request for my baby boi Angel 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 one day the reader asks him to go to dinner with her and some friends since some of their boys will be there too. He says no, he’ll just be at the clubhouse with the guys. So, as the reader is getting dressed, Angel stops in and gives her the whole list of things to be careful for, watch her, call if she needs anything etc. when reader walks out in her dress (tight in all the right places, cleavage, slit just a tad too high) Angel tells her to change She refuses, telling him that she invited him out and he said no so now he has to deal with the consequences. While gone, reader texts Angel a few times, but to gets no reply. She is worried by the time she walks into her place only to see him sitting on her couch very mad. She gets angry about him not replying to her but he just stands and comes to her, stopping her mid rant with a hand around her throat. He says something like “I’m going to teach you a lesson in obedience” and fucks her hard until she remembers who she belongs to

Warnings: language, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, Angel being a jealous boy

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Once I set about writing this I realized I’ve never really written a fic where one of the guys is really jealous and/or possessive. So sorry if it reads a little awkward at parts, it’s just not something I’m super versed with haha. Hope you enjoy! xo (Also I didn’t get super descriptive with the dress because everyone is comfortable with different things, so I left it kind of vague. It’s whatever y’all want it to be!)

Angel Taglist: @mayans-sauce @encounterthepast @helli4nthus @lilacyennefer @angelreyesgirl @everyhowlmarksthedead @starrynite7114 @rosieposie0624 @queenbeered @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @sincerelyasomebody @mijop @sadeyesgf @xladymacbethx @thesandbeneathmytoes @appropriate-writers-name @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @beardburnsupersoldiers @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @sesamepancakes @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @amandinesblogofstuff @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @enjoy-the-destruction

“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” you asked him as you grabbed a towel so you could go and shower, “They picked a really good restaurant.”

He shook his head, “Nah, not this time. You go, have fun. Just let me know when you get there safe, alright?” he paused and you nodded, then he continued, “And drop me a text when you’re on your way home so I know you’re all okay. If anything happens—”

You cut him off, trying to bit back a smile, “If anything happens, call. Make sure I keep my pepper spray at the top of my purse, remember there’s the knife in my driver’s door if I need it,” you shook your head, “I know, baby. We do this every time I go somewhere. I got it down.”

He chuckled, walking over and wrapping you up in a hug that kept you tight against his chest, “I’m sorry, querida. Just wanna make sure you’re being safe out there.”

“Aren’t I always?” you gave him a light squeeze, “But not for nothing, you wouldn’t have to worry if you came with me.”

“I just—”

“Need your guy time,” you finished the sentence for him with a laugh, “I know. I’m just saying.”

He laughed, playfully shoving you towards the door to your bedroom, “Go shower.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you made your way out of the room. You really couldn’t give him too much attitude about not going with you—more often than not he was more than happy to go out with you and your friends. It didn’t actually bother you that he didn’t want to go, but you still liked to give him a bit of a hard time about it just because.

You were sat in front of your mirror, still wrapped in your towel as you got started on your makeup. Angel poked his head into the room, and you could see the smile on his face through the reflection. You waited for a moment to see if he was going to say anything, but when he didn’t, you went back to your routine. A few minutes later you looked up again and he was gone.

The next time you saw him, you were sitting on your bed strapping your heels on. He reappeared in the doorway, eyes growing wide as he looked at you. You flashed him a smile as you fumbled with the tiny buckle on your shoes. He stepped completely into the room, towering over you as he walked over to the bed.

“Yea?” you stood up, even with heels on still not quite coming eye-to-eye with him.

“This what you’re wearing?” he looked you up and down.

You laughed, “Um…yes? Why?”

“The restaurant you’re going to happen to have a catwalk with a silver pole at the end of it or nah?”

You shook your head, not able to believe that you were really about to have this conversation with him, “Angel, don’t be ridiculous.”

“You can’t wear this shit to dinner with your friends,” his fingers trailed lightly along the fabric of your dress, tugging down lightly on the bottom hem as if that was going to make it longer somehow.

You cocked one eyebrow, “Why not? I look good.”

“Yea, and you’re not going anywhere by yourself looking this good,” he shook his head as his eyes continued to rake over your body, the pads of his fingers finding their way to the straps of your dress and fussing with them.

You gently pushed his hands off of you, “You declined the invite, baby. I offered for you to come with me. But you didn’t want to, and that’s fine. I’m not going to give up on a cute outfit just because you don’t wanna be there to play bouncer.”

He sucked his teeth, “C’mon, you got a million other things to wear, Y/N. Why can’t you just wear something else this once?”

You took a small step back, “Because I don’t want to.”

His frustration began to show on his face as he sighed, “You really doin’ this?”

You rolled your eyes, “Doin’ this?” you mocked him with a slight shake of your head, “Doing what?”

“Don’t make a thing out of this, Y/N.”

The way he said your name made you want to wear the dress everywhere without him to just frustrate him more. Every now and then his jealous streak would get a little out of control, and it looked like it was going to be one of those nights.

“I’m not the one making a thing out of anything. Maybe now you’ll learn that there’s consequences to your actions,” you carefully stepped around him so you could get out of your room.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floors of your house as you made your way towards the door. You tried to pretend that you didn’t hear his heavy footsteps close behind you, his boots thudding loudly with every step. Without turning to look back at him you swiped up your purse and continued to make your way to the door. Just as your hand landed on the handle to the door, Angel reached out and put his hand on your shoulder.

You spun around to face him, “I’ll let you know when I get to the restaurant,” your tone was firm, but you still stood up onto your toes to place a kiss on his cheek, “I love you. Have fun with the guys.”

He mumbled out something that sounded like I love you too, but other than that he didn’t say anything as you took off out the door. You let out a sigh as you sat down in your car. Part of you wouldn’t have been surprised if Angel came bursting out the door behind you, but he didn’t. With a slight shake of your head, you turned the car on and made your way to dinner.

You had texted Angel when you got to the restaurant safely, and he replied with a very short, “Ok” and nothing more. You had sent him a couple other texts throughout the night just to keep him in the loop, the same way the two of you usually did when you were off with your own individual plans, but it was radio silence from him. Even when you texted to let him know that the small group of you were going to hit a bar for a quick drink after dinner, he didn’t say anything. Part of you wondered if he even had his phone on at all, or if he was just really dedicated to ignoring you in particular.

When you finally pulled back into your driveway, the house looked the same as when you left it. The lights in the living room and kitchen were on—you could see the glow through the thing curtains covering the window. You got out of the car and locked it, hesitantly making your way up to the door. It was locked, which led you to assume that Angel had left and come back at some point since you didn’t lock it behind you when you left.

When you walked inside, you were met with the quiet noise of the television playing in the living room. You looked over and saw Angel lounging on the couch, his expression twisted into a frown as his left his eyes glued to the TV. You had the overwhelming feeling that you were the reason behind that look. The part of you that hated arguing wanted to just apologize, but the part of you that refused to say you were wrong when you weren’t won out instead.

“You even make it to the clubhouse?” you asked, very mindful of your tone.

He nodded, still not looking at you, “Yea.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, fighting to keep your face neutral, “Well, good to know now I guess. Since I didn’t hear anything from you all fucking night.”

His eyes flicked over to you, “What?”

The intensity of his stare almost made you want to back down, but it was too late for that now, “You didn’t say shit to me all night, Angel. I didn’t even know if you left. I figured you shut off your fucking phone,” you shook your head, “Should’ve known you were just ignoring me. I do one thing you don’t like and—”

The words got caught in your throat as Angel stood up off the couch and crossed the room to you quicker than you thought was possible. He stared down at you, anger alight in his eyes, “You really tryna act surprised right now?” he stepped in closer to you as you slowly backed away from him, “Like you’re not the one in the wrong here?”

“I’m not!”

He clicked his tongue, “You don’t really believe that.”

Your voice sounded certain despite the shaky feeling in your legs, “I do. It’s not my fault that you got all bent out of shape over a damn dress,” you shook your head, “You don’t get to always just tell me what to do, you know. You’re not my fu—”

He stopped you mid-sentence as his hand landed on the side of your neck. His thumb tilted your chin up as the rest of his fingers gripped onto the back of your neck. You thought that he was about to yell, but his voice was low and harsh, “I’m not your what? Hm?” he leaned so his face was mere centimeters away from yours, “You gotta learn how to fucking listen.”

You knew you were about five seconds away from your legs giving out underneath you, but you were never one to back down from anyone, not even Angel, “Or what?”

His lips curled into a smirk as he quickly crouched down and lifted you up, slinging you over his shoulder with ease. It was a move he’d done a million times before, but there was usually laughter filling the house when he did do. His fingertips dug into your thighs, and you knew that you were in for it as he made his way to the bedroom.

He tossed you onto the bed before stripping off his shirt and undoing his belt. All you could do was lie back and watch him, nervous and excited about what was about to happen. He looked over at you, and you could see the darkness swirling around in his eyes. He walked over, towering over you as you sat at the edge of the bed. His hand found its way to your throat once more and he gave it a light squeeze.

You opened your mouth to say something and he shook his head, cutting you off, “Don’t.” You stopped, deciding that for once you wouldn’t challenge him. He let go of your throat and stepped back slightly, “Stand up.”

You did as he asked, body trembling slightly underneath the weight of his gaze. He stepped in close to you, reaching around behind you and sliding the zipper down of your dress, all while not taking his eyes off of yours. He slid the straps down off of your shoulders and with one firm yank, the dress pooled in a pile on the floor. He guided you backwards so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed before bending down and picking up the pile of fabric on the floor. He held it in his hands for a moment before throwing it to the opposite side of the room, clearly glad to have it far away from the both of you.

Angel nodded towards the headboard of the bed and you quickly moved away from the edge. He dropped his jeans and in a matter of seconds was climbing on top of you. His movements were rough, harsh as his hands traveled over your entire body, the pressure pushing you farther into the mattress.

He brought his face close to yours, but when you leaned up to try and kiss him he grabbed your neck, pushing you back against the pillow. Your eyes went wide but you didn’t say anything. He shook his head, “You don’t get to have that now.”

You nodded your head slightly, unable to form any words. His free hand slid down your body, fingers hooking around the waistband of your underwear. With a strong flick of his wrist he ripped them off of you. You fought the impulse to roll your eyes—he knew you hated when he did that but you supposed that that was the point. This was, at the core of it, a punishment, so you bit your tongue.

The feelings of annoyance began to quickly disappear as his hand strayed between your legs. You went to whimper but his grip on your throat tightened. You bit down on your bottom lip, shutting your eyes tight as he slowly slid his fingers into you.

He leaned in and placed his lips right next to your ear, his voice hardly a whisper, “How’m I supposed to believe that you’re mad at me when you’re this fuckin’ wet, hm?”

You shuddered as his fingers curled inside you, unable to think a coherent thought, let alone form a sentence. His movements got faster and you felt your entire body begin to tremble. His jealousy was not your favorite quality but you’d be lying if you tried to say that it didn’t have its benefits.

He could feel you tightening around his fingers and a smirk spread across his face, “You gonna cum for me, Y/N?”

Unable to speak, you simply nodded. But, before you could get any release, he let go of your throat and pulled his fingers out of you. He saw the disappointment on your face and shook his head, “No you’re not. Not yet.”

“Angel, pl—”

“No. You lost the privilege of making those decisions,” he gripped onto your hips, “Flip over.”

Even if you wanted to hesitate, you wouldn’t have been able to. Angel’s fingers dug into your hips, turning you over. He pulled you back towards him, his hand running along your back, your ass, and between your legs. You whined and he shushed you, causing you to freeze up for a moment.

“I don’t want to hear it, querida,” his voice wasn’t as harsh as it had been, but you could still hear the tension in it, “You did this to yourself.”

He slowly pushed into you with a moan and your body instantly began to shake. His hands continued to roam and grab you as he positioned himself inside you, your whole body feeling like it was on fire. You shut your eyes tight and pushed back against him and you heard him curse under his breath.

He started to thrust into you and you bit down hard on your lips to contain your moans. You knew that the second you made a sound he would stop. The house was silent except for the sounds of his grunting and your bodies connecting. You had a death-grip on the blanket as you tried to keep yourself grounded.

Angel felt the way that your body once again began to tighten around him and he slowed his pace down to a painfully slow rhythm. Unable to stop yourself, you whined. He stilled instantly, “What was that?”

You froze, not wanting to say anything for fear of making it worse.

“Hey,” he slapped your ass and you bit back a whimper, “I asked you somethin’. What was that?”

“Nothing,” your voice was hardly audible.

You heard him let out a laugh as he reached forward, hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled you up against him, “You lying to me?”

You shook your head, “N-no.”

His chest vibrated against your back as he laughed. His hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat slid across your stomach and landed in between your legs. Your lip was about to bleed from how hard you were biting it to fight back all the sounds you wanted to utter. He nipped at the side of your neck and you leaned your head back against him.

“You like doing this?” his finger started to rub light, slow circles against your clit, “Is making me mad fun for you?”

“Angel,” you reached back and placed a hand on the side of his face, “it’s not—”

He stopped his hand, “Don’t lie to me.”

You turned your head and placed a light, lazy kiss on his neck, “You know I love you.”

He let out a quiet hum of approval, letting himself be distracted by you as his fingers went back to work, “You’re all mine?”

“Of course,” your voice was raspy as you tried to focus on everything that was happening.

“Say it,” he gave your throat a squeeze.

“I’m yours,” you whispered.

“That’s right,” he took his hand off of your neck and pushed you back down so you were back on all fours.

Both hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he began to thrust into you, pushing you farther and farther into the mattress. You moaned and this time it didn’t cause him to stop. The way his nails dug into your skin stung, but you didn’t mind it. You heard him cursing under his breath as he continued to slam into you, taking out a whole night’s worth of frustration out of you.

“I’m gonna cum,” you said it, but you knew that he already knew that.

Something resembling a laugh slipped past his lips, but he didn’t respond other than picking up his pace even more. You felt yourself going over the edge and you were quickly reduced to a trembling mess, Angel not relenting in the slightest as he fucked you through your orgasm. You could tell by the way his grip was slipping that he wasn’t far behind you. His hand landed on your back, pushing you down into the mattress as he finished inside you with a moan.

He didn’t pull out of you right away, instead he gently ran his hands up and down your thighs and back. You wanted to say something, but your mind was still reeling. He leaned forward, placing a trail of kisses on your spine that made you break out in goosebumps.

After he had a minute to catch his breath, he slowly pulled out of you, lying down next to you and gently pulling you against him. You reached forward and pushed his hair out of his face, wiping away a few beads of sweat in the process.

“Feel better?” there was a tired smile on your face.

He chuckled, “Maybe a little.”

You trailed your fingers through his beard, “I still think it was a cute dress.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes, not having the energy to argue as he pulled your face against his chest, “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

You laughed as his heartbeat thudded against your cheek, “But you love me.”

“But I love you.”

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