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lazypeachsoul · 3 years

Text

You never gave me your name...or your number. - y.b.

Request: by @teenwonder “WELL MA’AM now i’m legally forced to request a yelena x reader where ofc she’s the big stoic badass who melts and is all flustered when meeting reader i-”

Warnings: Nothing. This is pure fluff.

Word count: 1143.

A/N: i had way too much fun writing this request. hope you enjoy it 🌼 Sorry it's a bit late, I fucked up when I scheduled it to be posted and wrote the wrong date. but it's here now. Gif by @sun-summoners

“You should really talk to her before she calls the police on you.” Natasha spoke before taking a long drink of her beer to hide a smile.

“What do you mean? I’m just keeping an eye on our surroundings.” The excuse was poor at best, and both women knew she was lying. “No, Yelena. You are keeping an eye on her. Borderline staring.”

“Заткнись*” Yelena spoke shifting her gaze back to her ‘sister’. She really wanted to say she was only doing what she was trained for, but she was definitely checking the young woman at the bar out.

Yelena had seen you around several times already and you never failed to spark her interest. She had seen you first in the same bar you were in today, after another run in with trouble during a mission. She was bruised and battered, only wanting to relax after the fighting. But a loud happy lough captured her attention. A group of women was sitting at the bar having a heated conversation, but somehow the only thing that really interested her from the scene was you, with your head thrown back and covering your mouth to avoid catching the attention of the people in the bar. But it was too late because you had her attention.

She was conflicted after that first time. She was angry because your laugh managed to distract her from her train of thought, but she was also curious about the laughing woman and her sweet demeanor.

The second time was walking down the street outside of her apartment and that’s when she became a bit suspicious. Meeting the same person twice in New York was not the most common situation, even more because she couldn’t recognize you from the recce she’d done before moving.

“I’ve already talked to her.” Yelena spoke softly, not sure if she wanted to be heard by Natasha. “Really? When? What did you say? Even better, what did she say?”

By the third time Yelena had done an entire background check on you. Young woman who seemingly only wanted to make a living in the city. Good grades, college degree, nothing suspicious. Last known address: two blocks down the street from her apartment. Moved in merely days before the first meeting.

The meeting was in a small café and this time a real interaction happened. She was coming out of the café, not really paying attention, when she opened the door and a grunt could be heard as the door slammed against someone.

Quickly Yelena moved to help the person behind the heavy door, seeing you taking a few steps back while looking at the ground, your bag spilled everywhere. Scrambling, Yelena tried to help muttering curses in russian.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking.” She tried to excuse the situation while also trying to pick up the contents of the bag. All while trying to keep her coffee from tipping over. “Well, good to know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

Yelena faltered holding your phone in her hand. She just hit you with a door and you were joking? You couldn’t be that nice. Nobody in New York was that nice on a monday morning.

“Yeah, sorry.” She was now repeating herself and feeling stupid. Why was she so worried about talking to you when she felt like she already knew you in some way. “You already said that. Don’t worry, no harm done.”

The contents of the bag were returned in silence, or as much silence as a busy New York street allows. While you were returning the stuff to the bag, Yelena was trying to come up with something else to say other than an apology. Before she could open her mouth you looked at the time in your phone and sighed.

“No time for coffee for me today I guess.” You shrugged before looking back at Yelena. “Have a nice day! And don’t hit too many people.”

You were about to turn around when Yelena grabbed your wrist, making you turn. She pushed the warm paper cup still in her hand towards you with a serious face. “Take it, I’ll buy another one.”

You looked at her surprised and she started to doubt her action. You started shaking your head trying to stop her but she kept pushing the cup in your direction. Was it the best way to apologize? No, but it was the best thing she could come up with at the moment.

“I hit her with a door.” Yelena admitted drinking the rest of her beer, ignoring Natasha choking on her own drink.

“You what?” Her sister pressured her to talk and Yelena rested her head on her hands, holding the beer bottle in embarrassment.

“Look, it wasn’t on purpose. It was very early and I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings…”

Natasha was smiling at the woman’s reaction and her excuses. Yelena admitted she wasn’t normally like this. She was always on guard, keeping her feelings at bay and ready to fight at any point. Now she looked and acted like what someone her age was supposed to really act.

“Did you at least apologize?” Natasha was quickly interrupted. “Of course I apologized, and I gave her my coffee when she was running late.”

Yelena was getting kind of tired of being interrogated or plainly made fun of. Getting up she moved through the people mingling and talking until she reached the bar. Flagging down the barman she ordered a beer and another of whatever cocktail Natasha was drinking.

She was paying the drinks when she heard someone clearing their voice behind her. Turning quickly she found the face that now had become something recurrent in her normally chaotic life.

“You don’t have any doors to hit me so I thought it would be a good time to say hello.”

Yelena’s stiff posture relaxed when she heard your soft voice and saw your smile. There was something she couldn’t really explain about you that made her feel like she didn’t have to be in control all the time.

“Yeah, I can’t hurt you now.” Yelena spoke trying to continue the joke until she realized what she had said. “Not that I would! Never. I just…”

“Don’t worry, I understood you.” You placed a soft had on her arm trying to calm her down, but it only made her more nervous. “You gave me your coffee but you never gave me your name...or your number.”

Yelena felt her heart beat loudly against her ribcage and her mouth dried, not fully understanding the situation. Yelena looked to her table and saw Natasha doing a very bad job at hiding, with a big smile on her face. Turning back to you she tried to give you her best smile.

“Yelena. My name is Yelena. And I’m sorry about the door.”

* Заткнись - "shut up"

Taglist: @teenwonder @kyli314

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #mcu #black widow movie #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #I'm sorry it's so late I messed up writing the date when I queued it and now I'm here posting it #hope you like it #myfic

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keravnous · 3 years

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- agent 14/agent haines; the heart wants what it wants

Somewhere sirens are going off, howling with the steady, racing heartbeat of the city. They sweep to Steve's ears but they do not manage to reach his brain - currently oddly occupied with keeping his eyes locked on a figure a few meters away.

The man sits alone, smoking his third cigarette in under seven and a half minutes. Dark circles under his eyes, framing his face delightfully, only adding to his typical Los Santos appearance: stressed face, five o'clock shadow, chain smoking and the shakes of visible caffeine abuse.

Steve had never seen him before.

"Boss?"

"Yeah?", he just can't bring himself to look away. The man takes his phone out, seemingly picking up a call, his face immediately crunching up in annoyance.

"We're heading back in, are you coming with us?"

He lits another cigarette. Steve wants to lick the smoke from his lips, wants to know if he tastes like it too, wants to taste the fire of his lighter, to bury his hands in his dark locks and never let go of him again -

"Yeah, fuck. Sure."

Steve gets up, chair screeching loudly over the concrete, getting his hopes up that the stranger would look up at the noise, react to it in any way. But the loud screeeech is like any other noise in this goddamn city really, one that citizens get used to over time and eventually grow to ignore it completely. Thus he doesn't look up at all, continues to hiss into his phone and Steve retreats, like a beaten dog, back into his office.

It takes him thirty minutes to realize - a government offical and a highly decorated one, too - that his office's windows head towards the terrace. But when he peeks through the blinds the plaza's already deserted.

It takes a whole week full of nerve-wrecking lunch breaks and one or two bombings somewhere in Europe, before he sees him again. He doesn't wear a suit this time and Steve is convinced that he has to be a banker, taking his break here instead of his office's cantine.

He feels like he's struck by lightning. He wants to walk over there and introduce himself, but he also just wants to sit, admire from afar, to never move again. The man lights a cigarette and that also ignites a fluttering feeling in Steve's stomach and his chest, sending tingles straight to his fingers. The small butterflies leave a burning sensation and he wants to tear his chest apart, grab them by their wings and riiiip them out, until blood spills everywhere. Dave and Sanchez are arguing, but he can't hear them anymore, the pounding of his heart too loud, a static noise filling his ears. His body is releasing all the build-up tension worth the week's wait, and his hands grab the armrests of his chair.

This is crazy. He's crazy. This man is a complete stranger and here he is, highly decorated Special Agent Steve Haines, national hero and model employee of the FIB, and its his own body that's suddendly betraying him.

The man looks up and Steve's world stops. The noises fade, maybe his heart even stops pounding - he really can't be sure.

The man has pretty eyes, all blue and green like the atlantic ocean far out on the sea, in the shimmering sunlight. He's pretty. Very much so. He's maybe around his own age, maybe a little younger, high cheekbones that probably (Steve's uncannily sure about that) deliver quite a show once the man laughs. He looks good in his clothes. A little too good.

Steve wants to get up and leave. Steve wants to sit and continue to stare. Steve wants to rip his clothes of his body - wants to disappear, because he can't stand the other man's eyes on him. Checking him out. Judging him.

It's quite the stare, really. One that could send him to his knees or make his blood boil.

Steve's phone rings on the table, the take-away cups vibrate with it and he nearly jumps in his chair. He picks his phone up hastily and the stranger throws him an arrogant smile, one brow cocked up and looks down at his laptop again. Steve gets up and leaves the table.

It's Friday and it's been a week since he felt like his body was completely failing him. Since then the stranger had spent every lunch break at the plaza and Steve had locked eyes with him multiple times, had bathed in the soaring tingles of his body.

Today, he's finally alone, with Norton on a trip to Liberty City and Sanchez having called in sick yesterday. He takes the elevator down to the ground floor and checks his hair in its mirror one last time, until the doors swing open with a loud diiing. He steps out, passing through the entry hall like a conqueror and then he's outside, the air all warm and mushy around him. His gaze falls upon the terrace.

The man is not there. His table is empty and so is his chair. Steve's shoulders slump.

He sits down and chugs down a cup of coffee and then another one and suddendly someone behind him clear's their throat.

"Got some fire?"

He turns around and his heart skips a beat. It's him.

He does taste like smoke. And a little sweet, a little spicy. It makes his lips tingle and burn, his groin growing hot.

He breaks their lips apart, as he presses the smaller man against the tiles of the bathroom.

"What's your name, huh?"

"Warren", his cheeks are red. He's so hot, his hands are hot against Steve's scalp and he presses himself against the other man, rolls his name around with his tongue.

"Warren. I'm Steve." The answer is another heated kiss and a hand that rushes to the fly of his trousers.

He doesn't see him again after this, not during his lunch break nor anywhere else in the city. The weeks turn into months and sometime inbetween Steve stops to care.

He's at a bar with some guys he still knows from college. They bore him but one of them pays for the drinks so he decides he could survive a few more hours. They talk and talk and talk and Steve can't bring himself to care and then he sees it.

A familiar leather jacket and suddendly their gazes lock. Warren smiles and Steve can't stop himself from smiling back.

They are in a bathroom again, hungrier this time. "I am sorry", Warren breaks the kiss, only for Steve to dive back in, "I had to leave. Work-related."

"Where'you working?", Steve's lips nibble at his throat, taking in is taste and his scent. He feels high with it.

"Maze Bank. I-I'm a banker", bingo.

"Looked the part", Steve grabs his hips and they stumble backwards against the stall's door and Warren presses himself between Steve's opened legs.

" 'n you?", he's slurring as Steve's hands wander underneath his shirt, up up up his back. He doesn't feel like lying, trying to would be uselss anyway. Steve knows what he and his colleagues look like.

"Government." Warren looks at him, a second too long, and Steve isn't quite sure what to make of it. But then their lips lock again and he choses not to think about it too much.

A week and three hook-ups later and Steve's locked in in his office. He feels horrible, but some things about Warren just don't add up and his paranoia is slowly kicking in. And so is his curiosity. He types the name into the blinking field, letter by letter. Slowly, so he won't make a mistake.

No data found.

Steve runs another program. And another.

He does not exist. Warren simply doesn't exist.

Steve leans back and rubs his eyes. He's so fucked.

Steve doesn't remember how he ended up on the living room of Warren's appartment, button-down torn and nose bleeding heavily. The cut above Warren's eyebrow bleeds as well, warm blood tickling down his cheeks and onto Steves neck.

Warren's hard and pressing against him as he raises his fist for another blow. Steve can't stop himself and laughter bubbles out of him, his ribs aching and hurt shooting, spiraling through his body. Warren, one ocean eye blue and lilac and a nasty scratch on his forearm, looks at him baffled.

"What is it, Haines?"

"The fuck", he's gasping for air, Warren's hard dick still poking his hip, "Do I know."

They look at each other while Steve's laugh is slowly ebbing away and Warren clenches his teeth. "I hate you, you fucking FIB-maggot."

"No, you don't", Steve rolls his hips up and Warrens eyelids flutter, "Not as much as I hate you, you fucking spy."

Warren rolls his hips against Steve's and his body falls forward, one hand lazily holding his weight, right next to Steve's head. He tilts his chin towards it and places soft kisses on the warm, thin skin that's between his teeth and Warren's veins. They both moan. He should kill him on the spot, getting rid of a potential threat and the competition all in one, but he can't bring himself to stop.

"Fuck me like you mean it", Warrens lips are pressed against his ear and his fingers claw hungrily at his chest, as he sighs needily into Steve's ear. He's ready to oblige.

The next time he sees Warren the sun's up again and the air is crisp and cold. He's wearing his leather jacket again and Steve wants to get up, head over to his table and tear it from his shoulders. Sanchez lights a cigarette and Dave says something stupid again, but Steve can't bring himself to care.

He looks at Warren, Fourteen, and his white shirt. The opened collar exposes his neck and the dark-red bitemarks. He inhales the smoke of his cigarette and as his lips wrap around it again he locks his gaze with Steve. His stomach tingles and 14 raises a brow. Cocky, arrogant, inviting and challenging. Steve feels one corner of his mouth tilting upwards as he leans back into his chair, legs spread wide.

Oh, this would be one fine game.

#i am liTERALLY LOSING CONTROL #my writing #steve haines/agent 14 #agent steve haines #agent 14 #gtao #gta online #gta v

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

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impatient | m. tkachuk

a/n: a little bit of pining, a lot a bit of other things. this was super fun to write even if it killed me a little to do.

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol, and more smut

(this is a new and optional (no pressure but I think it will add to your experience reading my fics) thing I’m starting where all of my fics now come with a recommended wine pairing to drink while you read. full disclosure, I know absolutely nothing about wine and don’t intend to learn a damn thing about it while doing this. i order by the color and price per glass. these recommendations are based off how I feel and nothing else)

wine pairing recommendation: pink moscato, because we’re all basic bitches for matty tkachuk and pink moscato is the basic bitch wine. you know you like it. don’t lie.

word count: 5.3K

“Fuck, Matty,” you breathed out between moans as your fingers threaded deeper into the mess of curls between your thighs.

“Oh, like that?”

His hot breath fanned out across your hot, sensitive core and you groaned at the sensation. Matthew leaned in closer to you, his broad shoulders pushing your legs further apart. He still stopped short of putting his mouth on you.

“Matthew, please,” you whined, your body stiffening as you tried to grind your hips down to get more contact.

“Patience,” he kissed the inside of your thigh, a few inches from exactly where you wanted his mouth, “is a virtue, honey.”

“I fucking hate you,” you complained, but it came out empty.

“Mm, that’s hot,” was all he said before his tongue finally touched your clit and you couldn’t help but let out an embarrassingly loud moan.

Your body decided that moment you finally felt the tension start to unfold was the perfect moment to wake you up from a dream you haven’t asked for, but decided to enjoy anyway.

“Oh, fuck me,” you groaned as you pulled the covers up over your face. “He’s everywhere.”

You stumbled slowly out of bed to the bathroom. Your inability to be patient meant you washed your face with water that was verging on ice cold, which luckily today came in handy and helped you cool you off from your dream. Matthew had found his way into a lot of your thoughts when you were by yourself. He was becoming absolutely unavoidable.

“Good morning!” your long-time roommate and self-identified best friend Kayla sang as you entered the kitchen.

You have her your customary grunt in reply. One of the biggest issues in your friendship with Kayla was that she was a literal ray of sunshine presenting as a human being. She was a blindingly bright, cheery, peppy morning person who wore her heart on her sleeve and believed that everything would be better with a sprinkle of sugar and a little more love. You couldn’t understand how a person older than eight could possibly have the personality Kayla did, but she’d made it this far into life like this, so this was how she was.

“I made you a smoothie bowl. It’s in the fridge next to your coffee that’s chilling so it can be iced coffee,” Kayla informed you, sounding more like she was meant to sing to birds so they would assist her in baking a cake than that she made you, a woman arguably resembling a river troll right now more than a person, a smoothie bowl and coffee.

You grabbed the bowl eagerly, needed something to try to get your mind from replying the self-created imagine of Matty’s shoulders and curly head between your thighs. You sighed as you took your seat at the breakfast bar next to Kayla. You dug in instantly. It was one of Kayla’s better ones.

“Is good, K,” you mumbled around the berries in your mouth.

“Thank ya,” she replied with a bright smile.

“K,” you wiped the corners of your mouth before you turned to her, “can I tell you something if you promise not to tell anyone else?”

“Of course!”

Kayla was lying and you knew it. Loose lips might sink ships, but your friendship was too strong to sink despite Kayla’s knack for spilling all the beans she knew as soon as she was pushed in the slightest of ways. But, you needed to get this off your chest.

“I had a sex dream about Matthew Tkachuk,” you said bluntly.

Kayla’s spoon paused on its journey to her mouth before it dropped back into the bowl aggressively. Little purple droplets of smoothie sprayed across counter due to her sudden movement. Her mouth dropped open as she processed what you said.

“It was like, almost a sex dream, I guess,” you sighed. “He was about to eat me out and his shoulders, god the shoulders and the curls, and it was just, it was so hot and I have no idea what this means.”

“If I start singing that nursery rhyme about you two sitting in a tree kissing are you going to throw your coffee at me?” Kayla was already wincing back in her seat with her hands protectively in front of her face before she finished her sentence. “This cream sweatshirt doesn’t deserve it even if I do for saying that.”

You rolled your eyes at her and turned your attention back to your quickly thinning breakfast.

“Do you maybe like him, like him?” she asked hesitantly.

“He’s super annoying, Kayla,” you reminded her, “and I doubt he’s even into me in the slightly.”

“He’s totally into you and I know you’re into him. Annoying and a big ego is your type. He’s annoying to you because he’s constantly pulling your metaphorical pig tails.”

You rolled your eyes again, wondering if maybe they were going to get stuck up there that your mom had always threatened when you were little, before replying with, “This isn’t elementary school, K. Even if I did have a little crush, he’s not that type of guy and I’m not his type. ”

She shrugged and put her hands up, telling you that her opinion was her opinion and you could like take it or leave it.

“I just told you what I think, that’s all,” she said. “I also think we need to dress you up extra hot for the bar tonight and you better shave, just in case, you know.”

-------

As the first shot of tequila burned down your throat later that night, you were starting to regret telling Kayla. She’d already had three drinks and around four was when the secrets started spilling out and Matthew was bound to show up any minute. The team had lost tonight, but they were still coming out to celebrate someone’s birthday.

“That shirt makes your boobs look amazing!” The last word was sung, entirely unsurprising with your best friend. “Thank god you let me do your makeup tonight too. He’s not going to be able to take his eyes off you.”

“K,” you sighed as you sat the empty shot glass down on the bar, “he’s not exactly a buy-you-roses, take-you-home-to-his-momma, remember-your-anniversary, kind of guy. Pretty sure, if I wanted to, this would be a one and done sort of thing.”

Kayla shook her head after taking another shot that you couldn’t identify the origin of since you didn’t have another. Oh great, four deep.

“I’m telling you, babe. He’s into you. Like, he’s actually into you,” Kayla told you.

“Who’s into you?”

As if on cue, with an actual tug of your ponytail, Matthew was by your side with his classic, every present cocky smile and mop of curly hair, grabbing your attention even though you didn’t want to give it to him.

“No one,” you told him. “You’re just in time to pay for my next drink though.”

“You’re the worst person I know,” Matthew told you with a sigh. “You just talk to me for my money, don’t you?”

“Well, it certainly couldn’t be because of your personality,” you chirped back.

His credit card still hit the bar a few seconds later though, a wide smile on his face. He slid tight up next you, one of his hands gently resting on your back as he threw some cash on the bar along with his card to catch a bartender’s attention. His hand pressed against your back was warm and strong and you wanted to lean into it, into him. You resisted, your body stiffening as you resisted the urge to collapse into him.

“Oh, sorry,” Matthew mumbled as he took his hand away.

“Oh, you’re good! You can keep it there if you want.”

You’d said it a little too quickly and with a little too much pep for you, but luckily the volume of the bar covered it. Matthew just nodded and let his hand gently rest on your back again, his fingers drumming against you, as he ordered his and apparently your next drink.

“Don’t I get to order myself?” you asked him as you tilted your head back to allow for eye contact.

“When you’re paying,” Matthew chuckled before giving your ponytail another quick tug. “So, how’s work? Pretty sure you know how mine went today, so distract me with yours, please.”

You just started to make small talk about your work and his when your drinks arrived. Matthew was already being pulled away from you the second his beer touched his hand.

“Find me in a few!” he shouted over the noise as he was led off to the dance floor.

You definitely didn’t like you if he left that quickly, but you tried to focus on your drink instead of him. You couldn’t figure out what he’d ordered you by the taste. It was strong, but still tasted good, which was about all that actually mattered. You shrugged it off and headed over to mingle among the team and your other friends, mystery drink in hand and thoughts of Matthew in your head.

By the time your ass was back on your barstool, you weren’t sure how much time had passed, but you’d had three of Matthew’s mystery drinks and you were feeling them. Still, even at your worst, you weren’t Kayla who had already been yelled three separate times by security for climbing on a chair, a table, and the bar. She could not hold her alcohol even if you paid her a million dollars to do it.

“Jesus, I’m amazed they haven’t kicked her out yet. I see we’re being boring over here though instead of fun like Kayla.”

Matthew. Of course he’d find you the second you decided to take a little breather. You rolled your eyes at him and he laughed lightly. You knew he was teasing. He was always teasing you, always chirping you. You took the last sip of your drink and began the internal debate on if you could handle one more or not.

“Look, Chucky Cheese, not all girl are table dancing types,” you sighed, settling on the idea that one more would probably more likely than not be one too many.

Matthew slid his stool closer to you as he waved the nearest bartender down to close out his tab, apparently deciding he was also done for the night along with you. The scent of his cologne was engulfing you in a way that made the rest of the world around you slowly start to disappear.

“I’m not into table dancing types,” he informed you as he intercepted your tab before you could glance at how much he was shelling out for you tonight. “More into the roommates of the table dancing types. Especially,” he slid the clipboard with the bill to the opposite edge of the bar as his eyes turned back to lock with yours, “when I have it on good authority that table dancing girl’s roommate is into me.”

If you’d still been drinking, you would’ve choked on it with that statement.

“What?” was all you managed to get out in response.

Matthew chuckled a little and nodded softly, as if he’d been expecting that very response. He pivoted on his stool to face you. Slowly and steadily, Matthew leaned in closer to you. Even sitting, he towered over you and it made your breath hitch in your throat. Him leaning into you like this enveloped you in the feeling of him and the smell of his cologne. His lips came to rest just next to the shell of your ear, accidentally grazing it for a moment. If you weren’t already sitting, your knees would’ve buckled.

“Kayla is a little too drunk to keep your dreams a secret. She said something about how my shoulders would look between your thighs? Could’ve heard that wrong though.” Matthew said softly to you. “It’s okay. I’m happy to make your dreams come true tonight.”

He paused for a second and you weren’t sure if you had breathed the entire time he’d spoke. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“That is, if you’re interested.”

Loose lips sink ships, but maybe, just maybe, Kayla’s loose lips were about to make something float for the first time in her life.

“Don’t worry so much,” he whispered against your ear as he sensed your nerves, his lips ghosting across your sensitive skin as he spoke, “I want you so fucking bad right now.”

He pulled back, settling onto his stool again with practiced ease, and your heart started racing in your chest. You could barely hear the crowd over your heart beating in your ears. You had to think of something to say and you didn’t have a lot of time to do. Your brain was racing, not landing on any thought in particular long enough for it to take hold. Matthew knew he had you exactly where he wanted and his confidence was turning you on in a way that you hated that you loved. He leaned in closer to you, his smirk still strong as he came closer to you, his mouth inches from yours. You wanted to throw him off guard, wipe that cocky smirk right off his face, so you said the first thing that came to mind.

“You’ve got to buy me dinner first, Tkachuk.”

You didn’t know what part of your brain found those words. You didn’t know why they’d come out of your mouth. You didn’t even know how truly interested you were. The last one was a lie to yourself, but those words were a 50/50 gamble. Maybe he wanted to fuck you and take you to dinner. Maybe he just wanted one night to get over a tough division loss tonight. You had no evidence other than Kayla’s pigtail pulling theory to support the idea that maybe he might not just be looking for a one night stand and Kayla was so often wrong.

“Hmm, any chance I can cash in on dessert tonight and take you to dinner tomorrow?” The smirk was replaced with a soft smile, a smile that made you want to fall right into his broad chest and never leave. “Because I’m not exactly super patient here and I know you’re going to look absolutely killer in a tight dress at the stupidly expensive restaurant I’m going to take you to tomorrow night, but you’d also look so fucking good in my bed right now.”

"Is that so?” you asked him, stealing his smirk from earlier. “How nice is this restaurant?”

“Not as nice as I’m going to make you feel in a few minutes if you let me.”

You pressed your mouth against his as your way of answering. Matthew’s hands were on your waist, pulling you off your stool and into him as he took over, his mouth working aggressively against yours. Your hands clasped together behind his neck, securing you against him. Matthew was the one to pull back, surprising you. He released one hand from your waist to pull his phone out of his pocket and open up Uber on his phone.

“Unless that didn’t mean what I think it meant, I’m taking you home, woman,” Matthew said as he ordered the car.

“What ever do you think it could mean?” you countered in the lightest, brightest sarcastic voice you could find.

“Don’t tease me like that,” Matthew smirked, his face inches from yours now that his phone was secured in his pocket again. His forehead dipped down to press against yours. “You want this, right?”

“I’m just in this for the idea that the stupidly expensive restaurant has lobster,” you teased him again.

He shook his head softly and let out a soft breath before kissing you again in a way that told you that you were about to be in for a hell of a night. The Uber to his place was a blur for you due to alcohol and anxiety. You wanted Matthew. You knew for certain he wanted you too. That didn’t mean doubt and insecurities weren’t trying to worm your way in and ruin this for you. Matthew’s arm around your shoulders pulled you back to the present. He was pressing you tight against him in the elevator ride up to his apartment.

“Stop with the mind racing thing you do. I can see the hamsters running up there,” Matthew laughed, his head falling back against the elevator to rest as he looked at you. “You’re not going to have to dream about this anymore. You get the real thing and I’m buying you dinner. You’ve come out on top here, even though you’re not actually going to be on top tonight.”

“Keep chirping me and see if I won’t turn around right now,” you replied as the elevator doors opened.

“Your prerogative,” Matthew shrugged and he pulled his keys out with his free hand, “but I think taking your right hand over me is a poor choice for you.”

“Aw, you think I don’t own a vibrator.” Matthew’s hand stumbled as he tried to put the key into the lock, probably something to do with what you’d just said. “Cute of you.”

“Own anything else I might want to know about?” he asked you curiously as he pushed open his door after successfully wrangling his key.

“All in due time, Tkachuk,” you said with a pat of his broad chest as you breezed past him into his apartment.

Matthew breathed out a long sigh. It turned slowly into a chuckle towards the end as he shut the door, his mind jumping forward to when you’d hopefully let him see whatever you were alluding to that was in the back of your top drawer. You didn’t make it far into Matthew’s apartment before his large hands grabbed your hips and spun you to face him, his mouth crushing against yours moments later. Your hands grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and started to pull it up.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger,” Matthew laughed against your mouth while letting his hands take over and pull his shirt up. “We just got here.”

“If you’re in a slow and steady mood, I’d rather go home to my vibrator.”

Matthew pulled back from your mouth, still laughing as he tossed his shirt to the floor. He didn’t answer you, instead choosing to attach his mouth to your neck, nipping at the thin skin there as your hands found purchase on his bare chest. His teeth grazed across the skin over your collarbone as he worked his way down and your nails slid down his chest, leaving red lines down his pale skin.

“Jesus, fuck,” Matthew groaned out as your actions, his voice only deepening due to the sensation.

His hands on your hips gripped hard, the tips of his fingers pressing into the exposed skin where your shirt had rode up. Matthew slowly guided you backwards until you felt the back of your knees hit the edge of a couch cushion. Matthew left a searing kiss on your lips before he gave you a shove so you fell back on the couch.

“Clothes, off,” Matthew told you as he unbuckled his belt.

“You think-”

“I am in charge. Don’t even,” he laughed softly as he yanked his belt from the belt loops in his jeans and dropped it to the floor. “You’re still very dressed by the way.”

You huffed and stuck your tongue out at him, only making him laugh harder, but you listened to him nonetheless, tossing your clothes to the floor along with his. Matthew stopped with just his boxers left, and you followed his lead. His light eyes were darker as he took in the sight of you in just your bra and panties. Kayla had insisted you wear the one matching set you owned tonight and you made a mental note to thank her tomorrow. Matthew’s tongue darted out to lick across his bottom lip.

“Man, that’s a good look for you.” Matthew paused as he climbed over you, holding up his large frame over yours on the couch on his hands pressed into the cushions next to your head. He lowered his mouth to the swell of your breast, biting gently into the soft skin there. He mumbled against your skin, “Don’t wear clothes anymore.”

“I think I need to, to go to work,” you muttered, your mind far more occupied with what Matthew’s mouth was doing at the moment than speaking.

His hands were coasting up and down your skin, over your thighs, across your stomach. He was touching every part of you and your body was coming alive under his touch. You opened your mouth to add something, but Matthew had used that same moment as his opportunity to pull one of the lace cups of your bra aside and quickly take your now exposed nipple into his mouth. Your open mouth turned into a loud moan as his tongue rolled across the sensitive nub smoothly. You were already almost seeing stars when he gingerly took it between his teeth for a moment.

The bra which had previously been something he appreciated, was now in his way, so it ended up on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Matthew groaned at the site of you without it. He’d decided that naked was your best look, before he’d even gotten you completely naked. You could feel his eyes drinking you in and you would have felt self conscious if not for the fact that Matthew shifted over you, pressing his hardness against your thigh in a desperate attempt for friction.

“Why didn’t we,” Matthew took your other nipple into his mouth mid sentence, letting one of his hands finally stop moving across your skin, to pinch your other nipple between his fingers. He repeated his actions from the other side, tongue rolling your nipple softly before taking it between his teeth. His fingers pinched the other roughly as he did this, making your whine underneath him. He finally finished after releasing your nipple with a soft pop, “do this sooner?”

“I don’t know, but I really need you to touch me,” you whined, your hands flying to his shoulders to push him down.

He didn’t budge. After all, he was a professional athlete with the strength and weight to match the job title. He relented though without much effort on your part, after throwing you a teasing grin, and pulled your panties down your legs with two fingers hooked into each side. He sank onto the couch between your thighs. You gasped as you could feel his hot breath on your wet slit. Matthew looked at you, taking in everything that was in front of him.

“You,” he pressed a kiss to the left side of your inner thigh, “are,” he kissed the opposite side, “so,” he kissed higher up on the left side, closer to where you wanted him, “fucking,” he kissed the opposite side at the same distance from your slit. His mouth moved closer, hovering an inch above your core and he added, “Sexy,” before pressing his tongue between your folds and licking in one firm line up to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back in your head at the contact and your hips bucked up toward his mouth to try and get more contact. One of Matthew’s hands came down low on your stomach and pushed you flat back onto the couch.

“Easy, easy,” he soft softly, giving your clit a gentle, chaste kiss. “I’ve got you.”

You let out a deep breath as you tried to get your body back under your control. Your control held until Matthew’s tongue started to circle your clit for the first time. He was pulling moans from your throat that you didn’t know you made as he worked your clit slowly and steadily. Matthew was brash and bold and fast on the ice, but he was steady here, taking his time. You were his guide as he let the noises he was causing you to make guide him.

You took notice when he flatted his tongue against your clit and looked up at you, his blue eyes locking with yours for a moment. He slowly and purposefully applied more pressure on your clit before shaking his head back and forth, dragging his tongue across your clit firmly. Your eyes slammed shut and your hands flexed into his curls at the sensation.

“Matthew, fuck,” you managed to break out, your voice cracking between the words. “Holy fuck.”

“Easy, baby. Easy,” Matthew reminded you softly before returning to you.

He ran his tongue down your slit again, dipping it ever so slightly into you, making you squirm and whine, before returning his attention to your clit. He started moving his tongue faster, sliding left to right against the sensitive bundle of nerves as he could hear the noises you were matching shift and build. You were becoming more restless under him as your orgasm starting building, desperate to feel that release. Matthew was impatient to get you into his bed, or onto his couch, earlier but he was so very patient now, milking you slowly and gently, making sure to savor every taste of you he was getting, making sure you were enjoying yourself.

“Matthew, more, please,” you begging softly, tugged his curls to try to push him more into your core.

He listened, suddenly taking his clit into your mouth and sucking softly on it. You were seeing stars by the time he released it, his tongue moving in quick circles over it. You were so distracted that you didn’t noticed his hand move from your stomach until you felt two of his fingers slide into you. The new feeling pulled you over the edge almost instantly. Matthew’s fingers pumped in and out of you as his tongue continued his movement on your clit to bring you through your orgasm.

“Oh, my, god,” you breathed out, your chest heaving, as Matthew slowly pulled back from you.

“I don’t think god had anything to do with that actually,” he joked in reply, throwing you a wink that made you remember exactly the kind of guy he really was.

You were about to throw that back in his face, until he slid the two fingers that had been in you into his mouth, sucking them clean in front of you. Your mouth was slack as you watched him, drinking in the sight in front of you.

“Dessert was fucking delicious by the way,” he told you after releasing his now clean fingers.

He pushed up off the couch and disappeared down the hallway. You heard a drawer open in what you assumed was his bedroom and shut quickly after. You were still catching your breath by the time he was back, foil packet in hand.

“Yes?” he asked, lifting the condom up slightly to you as his way of checking with you.

“Please,” you simply replied.

Your dream hadn’t even gone as what he’d just finished, but you can’t say you hadn’t imagined this before. You desperately wanted to know what it felt like to have him inside you. Matthew nodded in response before dropping his boxers to the floor, quickly ripping open the foil packet and rolling the condom down his hard shaft. He sighed happily as he looked you over, stroking himself a few times.

“Hands and knees,” he told you as he crossed the room to you.

You obliged, flipping over onto your knees, bracing your arms on the back of the couch for more leverage. You felt Matthew sink onto the couch behind you before one of his large hands gripped your ass roughly, squeezing it. He gave the now reddened skin a soft tap before his hand slid to your hip to steady himself as he lined up with you. You both moaned as he slowly slid into it, your wetness allowing for him to enter you in one smooth motion until his hips were pressed against your ass.

“Jesus, shit,” Matthew mumbled before taking a deep breath. “You feel so fucking good. Christ, woman.”

“You going to lose it or are you actually going to be able to-”

You didn’t get to finish that sentence as Matthew pulled almost all of the way out before roughly slamming his hips forward until they met your ass again. You gasped at the sudden and now unrelenting movement as Matthew moved at a rough, fast pace, thrusting in and out of you quickly. You gripped the back of the couch and began to push off from the couch slightly, meeting his thrusts with small movements of your own, making him curse between his teeth at how deep he was inside of you each time.

One of Matthew’s hands was digging into the skin of your hip, steadying him to you and his other was on your shoulder, fingers slowly sliding over from the back of your shoulder to the front, inching ever so slightly toward your neck. You knew what he wanted, but wouldn’t ask for this time around, but you could offer it. You steadied yourself with one forearm on the back of the couch before sliding your free hand up to grab his. His rhythm flattered a little until he realized what you were doing, and then he almost fell apart far too early. You gently guided his fingers until they were wrapped around your throat.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he spat out between thrusts.

You nodded and he slowly and steadily applied pressure to your throat, the side of his hand from his index finger to his thumb pressing in just the right spot to restrict your breathing, but not cut it off dangerously. You started moaning louder with the added sensation and Matthew’s thrusts were becoming sloppy. You knew he wanted to last longer, but he got caught off guard by your assertiveness in the best way possible and wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer.

“Fuck, fuck,” Matthew mumbled before his breathing hitched in his throat.

He groaned, his hand squeezing down hard on your throat, as his thrusts started to slow as he came down from his high. He collapsed down onto your back when he was finished, releasing your throat so he could wrap his arms around your stomach and give you a quick squeeze. Matthew pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before slowly pulling out of you. You sighed as you flipped over so you were sitting up on the couch, giving your knees a break.

Matthew climbed off the couch and headed back down the hallway, returning a few moments later with a damp washcloth for you. You were surprised by the gestured, but grateful for it nonetheless.

“I meant it,” Matthew told you as he dropped down on the couch next to you, a water bottle in hand.

You gave him a curious look, trying to figure out what he was referring to in that moment. He took a swig from the bottle before answering.

“Taking you out tomorrow,” he continued when he saw your confusion. He passed you the bottle, before continuing, “I meant it.”

"I didn’t think you weren’t,” you replied with a shrug before popping open the bottle to take a few swigs, grateful for the cool water since you’d both managed to work up a sweat during that.

“Good,” he nodded, curls bouncing with his movement.

The moment was sweet, too sweet for how the rest of the evening had gone. The teasing tone that covered not only the evening, but your friendship with Matthew needed to return. Matthew was also too sure of himself to miss the opportunity at his feet.

“So, did I live up the dream?” he asked you, a cocky grin on his face that matched his tone. “Actually, I know I was better. But how much better was I?”

#Matthew Tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey imagine

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mermaidssonshipss · 4 years

Text

exile

warnings: angst, a few mentions of drug use and alcohol, anxiety.

pairings: rudy pankow x reader

word count: 3,444

loosely based around “exile” by taylor swift

For as long as you could remember, Rudy had been your best friend. The two of you were inseparable, your small town in Alaska keeping you sheltered and locked away from anything that could possibly disturb your friendship. Until Rudy decided to move to LA. You had been happy for him of course, wanting nothing but for him to be happy, but your heart had shattered the day he left, knowing you were going to lose your best friend. For the first few months, the communication was constant. Your phone was glued to your hand at all times, and text messages passed between you two 24/7, the nights ending with FaceTimes. Soon though, the texts slowed, and the FaceTimes became less frequent. Eventually, there were no texts, and no FaceTimes. He stopped reaching out to you, and you stopped reaching out to him. A month before he was supposed to visit for the first time since he’d left, you had had a full blown panic attack and booked a random flight to stay with a friend who was in NYC for the time he was back in Alaska. It had been two years since he’d left, and a year since you’d spoken. You had gotten a text from his mom the day before he came back, asking you to come to his welcome home get-together. The text went ignored, which you felt bad about as she had done nothing to you, but you knew she’d invite your parents and they’d tell her you were in New York.

Another year had passed, and Outer Banks had been released a few months ago. You saw Rudy’s face everywhere, and every time you wanted to scream. He looked good, better than he did when he left, and he looked happy. He had visited a few more times, and each time you managed to get yourself out of town for the time being. Not once had he reached out to you, asking you how you were doing or where you were, so you figured he didn’t care, what was the point of being there?

You were currently out on your dads docked boat, lying down on the hood as a joint dangled between your lips, the smoke swirling through your nostrils as you inhaled and blew it out. In 2 months, you were going to be moving to California. A job opportunity had presented itself, and you couldn’t pass it up. The pay was more than you could’ve ever even dreamed of, and they were paying for your apartment the first year while you got settled. It was perfect, and you figured California was big enough, you wouldn’t run into Rudy. The last few months you had spent your nights on your dads boat in the same spot, smoking until you couldn’t feel anything, until you were numb. It had been 3 fucking years and you were still pissed about Rudy leaving you, and you had been filling the void with drugs, alcohol, and meaningless sex the past 2 years. Before, you always had Rudy to stop you from drinking too much, or smoking too much weed, and he always interfered when you tried to take a random guy home. Now that he wasn’t here, you didn’t care. You let out a loud groan before sitting up and tossing the joint into the water, stumbling slightly as you stood up and made your way off the boat, slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jean short shorts. As you stepped onto the dock, you remembered you had left your shirt on the boat, but seeing as you were covered by a red bikini top, you decided you were too lazy to climb back up and find the shirt.

It was around 12pm when you made your way into your friend Jills home, the house full to the brim with people you had grown up with. You sent smiles there way as they called your name, beckoning you to their groups, but you kept walking, trying to find Jill.

Eventually, you spotted the faux blonde leaning against a beer pong table, a red solo cup in her hand as she cheered her boyfriend on. When she saw you, her eyes grew wide and she raced over to you.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” She asked, her words slightly slurred as she stumbled into you slightly.

“You invited me, dipshit.” You responded dryly, reaching your hands out and steadying her.

“I knooooooow,” she scoffed, her hand landing on your head, just resting there, “But you’re always out of town whenever Rudy comes into town. I didn’t expect you to be here,” she was patting your head now, playing with strands of your hair in the process.

“Rudy isn’t in town,” you were confused as you batted her hand away, and she let out a loud laugh.

“Yes he is, silly. He’s over there,” she pointed behind you and you turned around, expecting to see someone who resembled Rudy that Jill had drunkly mistaken for him, but instead you saw him. He was leaning against the wall opposite you, a red hat like the one he wore on Outer Banks resting on top of his blonde hair, and he was watching you.

“Fuck,” you snapped, turning around quickly as you stared at Jill like a deer caught in headlights.

“I think I was supposed to tell you...oops...” she giggled, waving over at Rudy and you slapped her hands down, panic rising in your throat as you shook your head at the wasted girl in front of you. You heard his voice behind you, and you closed your eyes tightly, your fists tightening before you relaxed the muscles and turned around to face him. He was stood in front of you, his blue eyes trained on your face.

“Hi. Bye.” You chirped quickly, pushing around Jill as your feet raced through the packed home.

As your dirty converse hit the street, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, tears beginning to spill down your freckled cheeks. You pushed yourself to keep walking, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to breathe. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him? He had promised you when he left that you would remain best friends, but after a year of being gone, he had forgotten about you. He had let your friendship go. You meant nothing to him clearly, and he had meant everything to you.

You forced your key into the lock of your apartment door, slamming the door shut as you leaned against it, your body sliding down to the floor. Your breaths were shallow, air forcing it’s way out of your lungs in quick bursts as you struggled to breathe it in. The walls around you felt like they were closing in around you. Your vision was blurry, tears falling freely as they stained your cheeks with your mascara. The panic attacks had begun a year into Rudy leaving, when he had stopped replying. Thoughts swirled through your mind 24/7, screaming at you that you weren’t enough. That you never made him happy, and he had only been friends with you because he felt bad for you. It had been a couple months since your last attack, but seeing Rudy tonight brought everything back. You felt worthless.

***

You felt like shit. You had fallen asleep on the hardwood floor by your front door, your eyes crusting over from the mix of your tears and mascara. It had been a feat to push yourself off of the floor and stumble into your bathroom, stripping your clothes off and forcing your aching figure into the shower.

Once you had dried off, throwing your hair up into a messy bun, you slipped on a simple white sundress that hung a few inches above your knees. You were pacing your living room currently, your phone in your hand as you scrolled through social media, seeing everyone that was in town posting photos with Rudy from the party last night, congratulating him on Outer Banks. You had texted Jill, asking her how long he was going to be in town for, but she had said she had no idea. The thought of once again booking a last minute flight and getting the hell out of here crossed your mind, but as you looked up flights that ran thousands of dollars, you decided against it, just settling for staying locked up in your apartment for the foreseeable future.

The TV was on and you were looking at it, but you weren’t paying attention to what was on the screen as you sat on your couch. Your eyes lingered on the glass of whiskey in front of you on your coffee table that had been left over from the day before, but just as you went to grab it, your phone dinged.

Unknown number: i think we need to talk.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you scanned the text, but before you could respond asking who it was, another text came through.

Unknown number: meet me at the spot. you know the one. in an hour.

Your stomach flipped as you read the words, realizing that somehow, Rudy had gotten your number. About 6 months ago, you had changed your number, an ex boyfriend of yours had been blowing up your phone for weeks, and you were tried of just deleting the texts.

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, tossing your phone across the couch as you let out a distressed sigh, throwing your body back onto the couch.

Talking to Rudy was the last thing you wanted to do, but you also wanted answers, you just weren’t sure you were ready to hear what he had to say. You weren’t ready to actually hear him say you weren’t good enough, that you had meant nothing.

***

The leaves that had fallen from the tall trees surrounding you crunched under your old, white converse, your eyes trained forward as you pushed through the branches. Soon, you found the clearing Rudy had been talking about, and you were met with his back facing you as he stood near the edge, looking out at the trees across the lake. His head snapped towards you when he heard your feet come to a stop at a distance, a branch snapping having given your presence away.

You’d both had your first kiss here, right at the edge, when you were 12 and he was 13. It had become a joke between you two that one day you’d both just get tired of it and kiss each other, getting the first kiss nightmares out of the way, until one day, Rudy had actually done it. He had been looking at you as you collected branches, trying to start a small fire in the clearing to warm you up, and you had snapped at him to get off his ass and actually help. Instead of helping, he had stormed over to you and kissed you. Nothing came of the kiss, you two remained best friends, but you had always held it close to your heart. Through the years, you two had your own relationships, but for some reason they always ended for one reason or another, and you two would end up back at this clearing, stolen alcohol and weed tainting your breath, and secret kisses were always shared.

“You look good,” his voice was deeper than you remembered it being when he spoke, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“I feel like shit,” you replied, venom lacing your words as you finally met his gaze. He looked sad as he watched you, his arms crossed across his chest as he bit at his bottom lip nervously.

“How have things been?” he was desperately trying to grasp onto a conversation, but you weren’t having it.

“I don’t know. My best friend stopped talking to me 2 years ago and threw me away like I was nothing when he promised he wouldn’t, but ya know. Other than that, just peachy,” your cheeks were burning red as you spoke, your fists clenching at your sides, and his eyes widened.

“What?” He looked shocked, and all you could do was let out a scoff as you rolled your eyes, “I didn’t fucking throw you away,” he was angry now as he took a step closer to you, and you were taken aback for a moment. You’d only seen Rudy angry a few times in your friendship, and it had never been directed at you, “You... you told me you didn’t want anything to do with me!” He was shouting at you now, the veins in his neck popping out against his skin.

“Oh that’s fucking bullshit,” your tone matched his and you let out an incredulous laugh before continuing, “You stopped texting me! You stopped FaceTiming me! It just.. stopped!”

“BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO!” He was standing in your face now, his face red as he screamed at the top of his lungs, his words echoing around the two of you, “I still have the fucking text,” he rushed, reaching into his pocket as he grabbed his phone. You could see him scrolling through his messages before he came upon your name, and he showed you the screen. You could see a text bubble from you, and multiple text bubbles under it that Rudy had sent, but each of them had the red warning sign, signaling they hadn’t gone through.

Y/N: Don’t ever text me again, and I mean it. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be friends anymore, I never really wanted to be friends, I just felt like I had to stay.

As you read the words, you felt like you were going to throw up. You had never sent the text, nor had you ever blocked Rudy’s number, meaning there was no reason for his texts to not have gone through.

“I... Rudy I didn’t send that...” you were breathless as you spoke, tears welling up in your eyes as you continued to stare at the texts in front of you. Rudy had sent multiple texts back, begging you to explain what happened, begging you to stay.

And that’s when it hit you.

Connor. Your ex boyfriend, the reason you had to change your phone number. You couldn’t breathe as you looked at Rudy, his face blurry as you looked at him through tears. Connor had made it clear from the beginning he didn’t like Rudy, but you had always assured him there was nothing to worry about. Rudy was in California, for gods sake, but clearly that wasn’t enough.

Rudy was silent as he watched you, not knowing what to say. He didn’t know if he should believe you, or if you were lying to him.

You frantically pulled your phone from the pocket of your dress, opening it and looking up Rudys name in your contacts. You clicked on it, and your eyebrows furrowed as you scrolled down and confirmed his number wasn’t blocked. And then you saw the actual number that was entered, and your stomach felt like it had been twisted and ripped out. The first 3 numbers of his number had been changed to a simple 555, meaning when you texted it, it wouldn’t go through, looking as if you had been blocked. You opened the settings on your phone, scrolling down to your blocked list, and there, on the very bottom, right above your ex’s number, was Rudy’s real number. Your eyes met Rudy’s, his already on you, and you could see a few tears had begun collecting on his cheek.

“Rudy... he... Connor... he sent that text. He changed your number and blocked your real number and I didn’t... I didn’t know I never thought to check I thought you had me blocked,” you lifted your phone, showing him all your own undelivered messages as you rushed the words out of your mouth.

“Then why were you never here when I came home? The first time I came back, your house was the first place I went. But you had left. And then the next time, you were gone, and after that,” he looked hurt as he shook his head, stepping back from you and turning back to the view over the cliff.

“I was hurt, Rudy. I thought.. I thought you had brushed me off. I thought you had finally realized I wasn’t good enough, that you didn’t want me around, and it fucking hurt. I didn’t want to see you when you came back and be reminded that I wasn’t enough for you to stay,” your voice was quite as you spoke, only loud enough for Rudy to hear, and as the wind carried your words through the air, Rudy was now the one who felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You were my best friend, y/n,” he was facing you again, his hand reaching out and resting on your cheek, wiping a tear that had fallen, “God... I was in love with you. So fucking in love with you. What do you mean not good enough? How could you ever think that? I asked you to move to California and stay with me, but you sent that text in response. I missed you so fucking much it hurt. I knew you had a boyfriend, but he was a total tool, I could tell that just by looking at his instagram, and I could tell you weren’t really into him, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask you. And then I got that text and I thought I had fucked everything up,” he was freely crying now, and your hands were gripping onto his shirt tightly as you leaned your cheek into his hand.

“Fuck Rudy, I’m so sorry. I was with Connor that night and he must have seen it when I went to the bathroom,” you were struggling to speak, hiccuping here and there as you cried, and Rudy’s other arm had wrapped around your waist, “I would’ve done it. I would’ve moved to California the next day. You’re right. I wasn’t that into him. He was just a distraction from how much I missed you. How I was so in love with you and nobody else could ever replace you.”

Rudy rested his forehead against yours, both of you just looking at one another. For two years, both of you had been under the impression that you had been exiled from the others life. Unwanted. Broken. But as you looked into Rudy’s eyes, his arm wrapped around you and holding onto you for dear life, the broken pieces slowly began to click back together.

***

“Dude, what is in this box?” the heavy box in Rudy’s hand was dropped onto the ground, loudly banging against the hardwood floor beneath him as he wiped the sweat that had collected from his forehead.

“I don’t know, but don’t just... drop my stuff,” you glared, walking past him with a box of your own in your hold, placing it down gently on Rudy’s kitchen table.

3 months. It had been 3 months since the two of you met in the forest, both of you finally realizing what had actually happened. At first, things were tough. Both of you were dealing with your own issues due to what happened, and unfortunately those feelings don’t just go away, even if what had caused them wasn’t what they had thought. But now, you two were solid as a rock. When you told him you were moving to California for a job opportunity, he had almost screamed in excitement, immediately telling you to move into his place. After some research regarding where your work was located and finding out it was only 10 minutes away from Rudy’s place, you agreed.

You were going through the box you’d just placed down when Rudy came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You tilted your head, placing a soft kiss on the side of his forehead before returning your attention back to the contents in front of you. He sighed, squeezing you tightly as he dragged you away from the table slightly, signaling he wanted attention.

“I need to unpaaaack,” you whined, letting out a laugh as he turned your body to face him, a pout on his plump lips, his arms still latched around you.

“Unpack later, kiss me now,” he smiled, placing his lips on top of yours, and you melted into his embrace.

You could unpack later.

#rudy pankow x reader #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow imagine #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine

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alicedopey · 3 years

Text

Third Birthday’s A Charm

Fandom: Vikings

Pairing: Halfdan x OC (Gaby)

Genre: Modern AU, Romance, Smut-ish

Words: 1794

Warnings: Well, there is a little bit of smut.

Summary: Gaby is not the only one who can make a wish for her birthday.

A/N: This is a birthday gift for my other half, @naaladareia Honey, you are such a kind-hearted and caring person, always there to listen. I wish you the best for your very special day. I love you.

A/N 2: This is the continuation of a little series so if you are interested in reading the first two installments: Part I - Part II

Halfdan woke up at the sound of something crashing on the ground followed by a loud gasp. He groaned and rolled on the side. The floor under his body was different from was he was used to. He blinked a few times and opened his eyes to close them back instantly. There was definitely too much sun here.

“What..what are you doing here?” A feminine voice stuttered.

It was something distant and yet, very familiar. His eyes opened again and abruptly sat up on the floor. He remembered where he was by now – or rather, when he was.

He looked up at the woman who had been in his thoughts for a while. Her jaw was opened, her eyes wide, her hair slightly disheveled and she was wearing some large loose shirt which let her legs show. He smirked.

“Hello!” He rasped.

She seemed to process his word and finally greeted him back. She bent down to gather the broken pieces of the weirdly bright colored pot she had certainly been holding in her hands before dropping it when she spotted him. She left for a few seconds and came back with a wet cloth to wash the liquid that was spilled on her odd floor. When she was done, she gave him a shy look.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here? How did you come?”

Halfdan smiled and stood up. “Don’t you celebrate the day you were born today? I thought it was a pattern for us to meet on that special occasion.”

“Maybe…I did not make any wish this time, though.”

“You have your ways, I have mine”. He answered in an enigmatic tone but she was still curious.

“Magic, I guess?”

He nodded. “Of some sort.”

“Why are you here?” She asked, extremely confused.

He approached her, extending a hand to play with a strand of her hair. He scrutinized her face since he did not have to pleasure to do so during the former two times they had met. It seemed so soft and spotless, quite different from the women he knew. It was also very inviting so his hand let go of her hair to run along her cheek.

“I have to admit I was highly suspicious of you at first but when you mentioned something about your birthday wish, I figured the Gods wants us to meet. It was fate.”

She put her hand on his, he got closer as he kept explaining himself. “I went to the Seer who told me my adventurous destiny was waiting for me much further than I thought. It was not the first time he said those words but I always thought I was made to discover every new land until I had reached my destination. Now, I understand what he was meaning.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you are here to stay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s up to the Gods and their mysterious ways. We should enjoy it while we can.”

He pecked her lips. “You got any food? I’m starving.”

¤ ¤

Gaby filled the dishwasher while Halfdan was relaxing on her couch after stuffing his face with the brunch she had prepared: eggs, ham, cheese, potatoes with juice, coffee and tea, that he happened to like more.

She could not help pinching her skin again. Having a Viking in her home could not possibly be true and yet, here he was…and maybe for a long time. It would take a while for him to adjust since he was watching every object around him suspiciously but he was an adventurer so she was certain he would manage in the end.

“What are the plans for today?”

His voice almost made her jump. She had not heard him at all, too lost in her thoughts.

“Nothing special.” She replied. “A nice bath to relax, I’ll probably bake some birthday cake and then I’ll cook some pasta dish for dinner.”

“No big celebration? Nobody is coming here?”

“It is…quite difficult nowadays. To make a long story short, there is some kind of plague going on. We can’t really visit each other and all the places when where we can eat and drink are closed, as well as cinemas or museum.”

He frowned. “What are those?”

“Places to have some fun.” She did not really want to get into the details since she was not ever sure he would go there once. “I could offer you to go outside but we will have to wear a mask.”

Halfdan let out a disgusted sound when she pointed at the numerous masks lying on her cupboard. “No, thank you. I might be up for a bath, though. Shall we?”

“Together?” She squeaked in spite of herself.

“Well, of course”. He eyed her up and down. “Besides it’s not like I have not seen it all before.”

Gaby felt herself blushing like an innocent teenage girl even though the idea of sharing a bath with him was very tempting.

She led Halfdan to her bathroom where he looked everywhere with wide eyes. It gave her time to prepare the bath, adding some lavender bubble bath and relaxing oil. She turned off the water when there was enough and looked at him shyly again. “Bath is ready.”

Halfdan started at the foam suspiciously before getting undressed, and dipped in. Gaby did the same, trying to ignore the fact that he was ogling her shamelessly. The water had a relaxing effect on her and she leaned back against the tub. On the opposite side, Hafldan mimicked her actions.

“Relaxing, isn’t it?”

“It is…how long do we have to stay here?”

Gaby laughed. “Impatient, are we?”

“I’m just not used to laziness, that’s all.” He bit back teasingly.

She threw some water at him playfully. Halfdan suddenly leaned forwards and pulled her against him. She immediately felt his hardness. Her breath hitched as his hand travelled down her back, her ass and her thigh that he grabbed to make her straddle him. He slid into her with a deep sigh. Gaby’s head tilted backwards in pleasure.

“I guess I could get used to this type of laziness.” He rasped before moving in and out of her.

Gaby gripped his shoulders to steady herself and meet his thrusts. The water splashed gently against the tub and soon, only the sound of their lovemaking could be heard.

¤ ¤

After their steamy sexual encounter, they got out of the tub. Gaby gave Halfdan more comfortable clothes that her ex-boyfriend had left in her apartment. It was really confusing to see him wearing some pants and a tee-shirt with his warrior demeanor. It was also very charming if she was honest with herself.

Later, he helped her bake her chocolate birthday cake – well, more like created a mess in her kitchen – but they had fun. Gaby was happy to fall into some sort of domestic life with him. It had been a long time and it felt nice to have someone around her during those very particular times.

Halfdan talked to her about some of his travels and raids. She winced at some of the most gruesome details but enjoyed every word. After all, it was as if she was watching a live documentary about Vikings. Only, it was better than television, better than the show she had enjoyed watching so much. To her surprise, Halfdan was a great story teller, very passionate and entertaining. He was answering all of her questions, pleased to see she was interested in everything he had to tell.

Dinner time came quickly. Halfdan devoured the pasta Gaby had prepared and then watched her blow the candles on her birthday cake.

“What did you wish for this time?”

She smiled. “It will not come true if I tell you.”

He rolled his eyes at her answer. A playful smile suddenly curved his lips upwards. “I am here. What more could you ask for?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes at his cockiness. “Of course. Still, I will not tell you my wish, you sexy murderous Viking.”

His smile widened. “You like calling me that, don’t you? I remember you saying it last time.”

“You remember too many things.” She mumbled under her breath.

Halfdan chuckled. “My brother keeps telling me that.”

Gaby suddenly frowned, thinking of Harald. “Does he know you are here?”

“I told him everything, of course.”

“And he let you leave?” From what she knew of Harald, he was quite possessive when his brother was concerned.

“My brother has his own destiny and I have mine.” He smiled. “To be truthful, he was more inclined to let me leave because he knew it was about a woman. Helpless romantic! I only hope none of them will try and kill him while I’m gone, no matter how long it is.”

Gaby felt a slight pang in her chest when he reminded her that there was a slight chance for him to disappear one day, just as fast as he had arrived. Halfdan sensed her sudden mood change and rose up from his chair to join her. He made her stand up before attacking her lips with a kiss that left them both breathless. They exchanged a lustful gaze.

“Why don’t you show me how sexy you think I am in that oddly over comfortable bed of yours?”

How could she say no to such a proposition?

First, she cleaned up everything while Halfdan was trying to get familiar with his new surroundings and was purposely avoiding the television, a television that he had almost destroyed when she had turned it on to show him what it was. He would definitely need more time with new technology.

When she was done, the two of them went to bed where they had sex and talked some more about Halfdan’s adventures. He held her in his arms. Gaby was happy to have spent another special and eventful birthday for the third time but also worried that there was a possibility he might not be here tomorrow when she would wake up.

Before falling asleep though, she remembered Halfdan’s earlier words. We should enjoy it while we can. He was right. For the moment he was there with her, maybe for a day or maybe for ten years but either way, they seemed to share some special bond as if their destinies were linked. It meant that no matter what happened, they would always find each other again.

Tagging (please tell me if you want to be added or removed): @naaladareia @flowers-in-your-hayr @gearhead66 @therealcalicali @tephi101 @ivarswickedqueen @akamaiden @peaceisadirtyword @captstefanbrandt @mblaqgi @medievalfangirl

#birthday fic #vikings #gaby's birthday #@naaladareia's birthday #halfdan x oc #Halfdan the Black #romance #modern au #smut

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wholesomemendes · 4 years

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Popcorn & Cuddles

Mendes Triplets Au

Summary: It’s movie night at the Mendes Triplets’ house, which means lots and lots of cuddles and attention for their best friend.

Author’s Note: I couldn’t find a picture to go with this and also I’m horrible at summaries once again. This is so fluffy it hurts and I love them so much. This includes all of our favorite triplets and its just simply adorable platonic friendships. Please tell me what you think and I hope you enjoy!

The scent of popcorn filled your senses as you situated yourself on the worn down couch of the triplet’s apartment. The seat was practically molded to your usual seating position from how often you sat there, but it only added to its comfort level. You placed all of the bottles of drinks onto the coffee table as Raul plopped down next to you, television remote in hand. “Any movie suggestions?”

“Not really, I haven’t really had time to look at any of the new movies out,” you told him, taking a sip of your soda before leaning back further into the couch. Peter rounded the corner, a bright grin on his face and arms full of blankets for everyone to use. He placed one on the recliner next to the couch for Shawn to use, placing the rest on your lap so he could get comfortable on your other side. You adjusted the blankets, wrapping one around your body as Peter did the same and then handing one to Raul to put on his lap. Peter immediately made himself comfortable on your lap with his head lying across your legs, allowing your hands to take purchase in his curls like he always loved.

A loud groan was heard behind you as Shawn approached the couch, grumbling to himself when both sides of you were taken, “This isn’t fair.” He placed the popcorn on the table before plopping into the recliner, crossing his arms with a boyish pout on his lips.

“What’s got your panties all in a twist?” Raul teased, small laughter spilling out of his mouth.

Shawn gave him a hard glare still angrily sinking into the chair like a child, “How come I had to get the popcorn tonight? You guys stole the comfy spots.”

“Because I got it last week.”

“And I got it the week before that,” Peter piped up before pushing his head higher up into your hands.

“And I always get the drinks. It’s tradition for you three to rotate popcorn duty, Peter will do it next week.” The youngest triplet groaned, mumbling out a “Don’t remind me” into your lap with a disappointed look on his face.

You had known the Mendes triplets for as long as you can remember, your family moving next door to them when you were only five years old. The four of you always sat on the bus together, played with each other after school, and frequently ate dinner at each other’s houses. You had sleepovers until your parents claimed you were too old to have sleepovers together (yet you still managed to sneak into the other’s rooms to have an impromptu sleepover that was unknown to both of your parents). Next thing you knew you were growing up, helping each other through first dates, first loves, and heart aches, always being attached to each other’s side no matter where you went. When college decisions had to be made, it was easy for you all to agree to stay together, even going as far as to live within a few miles of one another once you graduated. Yes, there were disagreements here and there, but when is there not? In the end you all loved each other platonically, no hidden feelings in between anyone because you all simply clicked and the moment you had seen those little curly headed boys leave their house when you were just a toddler, you knew you would become best friends as cliche as that sounds. Now almost eighteen years later you still made time to make plans together, setting Saturday nights as the official movie night at the Mendes’ apartment. And without a doubt, whichever one of the boys had to get the popcorn that night and didn’t get to cuddle up next to you was complaining for the rest of the movie. Shawn and Raul were the worst to listen to because they’d be voicing their opinions on why the popcorn system was unfair and would bicker with each other constantly over it to rub it in the other’s face that they were on the couch and the other wasn’t. However, Peter was the worst to watch. He didn’t say much, usually just grabbing three times the amount of blankets he usually has as he curled himself into a ball in the recliner looking like a sad puppy that just wanted cuddles. It took everything in you from leaving the couch in favor of wrapping yourself around him until he smiled again, but you already knew how that would go over with the rest of the triplets. One week you even suggested that you get the popcorn and sit in the recliner so there was no more fighting. That only caused more fighting because they told you that they didn’t want to cuddle with each other, they wanted to cuddle with you, which led to Shawn and Raul insulting one another on why they wouldn’t want to lay together while Peter just clung to you like a koala from behind. You were thankful though that there were little complaints on Shawn’s end tonight besides the typical grumbling due to the long week at work you had and your desire to just relax with your best friends.

Raul switched on the first Harry Potter movie, which was never questioned on a movie night and typically led to the next few weeks being a continuation of the series, before placing the remote back on the table and throwing his right arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, letting him mindlessly play with the loose strands of hair that had fallen out of your messy bun while you did the same with Peter’s. “Your hair’s getting really long, Pete,” you whispered as the intro played, pulling his hair out to its full length.

“I know,” he mumbled into the blanket, almost half asleep from you massaging his head, “I need to get it cut soon.”

“Don’t, it’s easier to play with when it’s long.”

“My hair’s long too, you can play with it if you’d like,” Raul smirked as he grabbed your free hand to bring it up to his head.

“Nah, I think I’m good with Peter’s,” you teased, watching as he feigned offense with a hand over his heart.

“Is my hair not good enough for you?” he laughed, still trying to force your hand into his hair, “Play with my hair woman-” you glared at him- “Please?”

“Fine,” you sighed, playfully rolling your eyes before sticking your hand straight into his unruly curls. He had taken a shower prior to your arrival so there was no product in them, allowing the curls to stick out everywhere and make them even softer.

“I want my hair played with.” You turned your attention to where Shawn was whining in his seat, body slumped under a blanket.

“Next week, I promise.” The only response from him was another dissatisfied humph as he sunk down further into the recliner.

The movie progressed with you cuddled up to Raul’s side, eyes drooping shut while Peter was fast asleep in your lap, Shawn busy munching on some popcorn off to the side. The end credits rolled and Raul stretched his arms out, causing you to move slightly with an annoyed groan, as he reached out to turn the tv off. “Where are you going tonight, sweetheart?” he whispered to you, not wanting to completely wake you out of your sleepy state.

“She’s coming with me,” Shawn replied while he moved to get out of his seat, “It’s only tradition after all.” The spare room in the boys’ apartment was filled with musical equipment, painting supplies, photos Peter had taken, you name it. They could have easily made it into a guest bedroom, but seeing as you were the only one that typically stayed over, and they had a pull out couch if they really needed an extra bed, they used it as a miscellaneous room and you slept in one of their beds with them if you didn’t go home. It wasn’t like it was anything new, you guys cuddled all of the time and the triplets were very affectionate people, so it was an unspoken rule that if it got too late to go home after movie night, you stayed in the room of the triplet that didn’t get to sit next to you on the couch. You didn’t mind when they fought over your attention, you secretly loved it, always feeling so loved and protected by the boys you thought of as family.

Shawn made his way over to you, lightly shaking Peter to wake him up before scooping you up in his arms and heading for his room. He placed you down carefully under the sheets, allowing you to get comfortable against him as he laid down next to you, opening his arms up for you to squeeze into. You were almost fast asleep when the door cracked open slowly then shut again before a heavy weight made the bed on your side dip. “What are you doing? Get out of here,” you heard Shawn whisper as you cuddled further into him for warmth.

“No, the heat’s not working in my room again and I don’t feel like fixing it right now.” You quickly recognized the voice as Peter’s and the feeling of him scooting behind you, trying to wrap himself completely around you only solidified your assumption.

Raul, who had heard Peter’s door opening from next to his room, let his curiosity get the best of him as he made his way over towards the middle triplet’s room, “What’s going on in here?”

“Not you, too,” Shawn groaned, holding you tighter against him, “She’s mine.”

You giggled at his selfish nature, feeling the bed move once again. “Peter, move.”

“No, Raul, I got here first.”

“She’s in my room so technically neither of you should be in here.”

“I don’t care. Peter, move.” The youngest sighed, adjusting himself so that he was slotted between your legs towards the bottom of the bed. You turned onto your back, much to Shawn’s dismay, allowing Peter to move up your body and rest his head on your stomach. You were completely encompassed with warmth as Shawn and Raul latched onto you from both sides. All of you felt perfectly content in that moment, all snuggled up to one another and just as inseparable as the day you met.

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ethelphantom · 4 years

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car windows with pretty girls

I don’t even ship Dickinette how did this happen?

Actually, no, don’t answer that. It’s because I found a prompt that I thought fit Dickinette. That’s how. (It’s not like I dislike the ship, it’s just not my cup of tea. If I disliked it, I would not have written this thing ever regardless of how fitting the prompt may have been. Also, Mari and Dick get a happy ending even if some people don’t so you don’t need to worry about me killing off either of them. You’re safe from that this once.)

Ao3

This is Maribat and Dickinette -- Don’t like; Don’t read.

_______

It was boring being hyperactive and then needing to wait in the car with no estimations of how long he would need to be there.

So, clearly, the obvious thing to do — if he had to stay in the damned car anyway — was to people-watch.

Now, people-watching was definitely more Timmers’ or Jay’s thing, both scarily accurate with their knowledge and understanding of people, albeit they’d learnt to do so for very different reasons. Tim’s parents had insisted that you needed to know how to read people to find their weaknesses to be able to keep them below you. Even if that wasn’t what Tim used his skills for, it was the reason behind it. Jason, for his part, had learnt because otherwise your odds of surviving in the Crime Alley were extremely, alarmingly low. He too had kept it up.

It was fun, mostly. Dick wasn’t the greatest detective in the family — that would be Tim or Bruce —, or the one who could read others as easily and fast as Jason read books — that would be Tim and Jason —, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to do all of that well anyway.

So, obviously, when a bunch of young adults near him got into an argument and one girl spilled all of her drink on another, he noticed immediately how said girl was definitely lying about whatever she was saying. She kept covering her mouth, trying to groom herself even though there was nothing amiss in her appearance, and it seemed that they took a little too long to answer to the other girl a lot of the time. If it was apologising, well, Dick was tempted to go take care of the situation and then take the drenched girl to clean up.

Unfortunately, they all left and while his eyes kept following the group, he also lost sight of the victim. Damnit. He wouldn’t be able to help her in any way now.

Not that knowing where she was would have helped much anymore soon as someone blocked his sight by standing in front of the window. Dick sighed and settled back down on his seat, contemplating taking out his phone and just trying to call someone because he needed stimulation. Why was he left alone here waiting again?

It took him another ten seconds before he realised that the person in front of the window was trying to check their appearance and was at the moment trying to get their hair in order. Dick watched them for a bit before recognising them — if only for the absolutely lovely, soaked, light blue denim dress and the black fitted leather coat she was wearing — because this was the girl who got a drink thrown on her.

Now that he had a better look at her, he decided she was not only beautiful, but also gorgeous. Her black hair was a little below her shoulders, and god, she had the most beautiful blue eyes — and that was saying something, because basically all of his siblings had blue eyes, he had blue eyes, and heavens knew he thought his were the best.

She didn’t even seem to realise he was there. Oh well, if she wasn’t going to take long anymore, he supposed it didn’t matter if he looked at her a bit longer, but if this was going to continue more, Dick would feel like a creep and have to tell her to find another place because he didn’t want to violate her privacy more than was absolutely necessary.

But then. Then he saw the tear streaks on her face and he decided that he needed to do something. Even if only to comfort the girl.

He rolled the window down and laughed a little as the girl looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Hello miss, I couldn’t help but notice you checking how you looked like without realising I was here, and I thought I’d tell you that you no matter how you see yourself from the car window — I doubt it’s that good of a mirror, honestly —, you’re really pretty.” That raised blush on the girl’s cheeks and it looked like she was about to apologise, so Dick continued speaking. He didn’t want her to apologise because it’s not like she did anything wrong. “Can I help you with anything? I noticed the confrontation earlier and it didn’t look too good.”

The girl sighed before snapping her gaze back to Dick, eyes wide. “Are you actually offering to listen to me?” Huh. She had a strong French accent, but her English was otherwise wonderful. Dick wondered how many languages she spoke. Then he paid attention to her words again and…

Why was that such a surprise?

It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

Had anyone offered to listen to her in years?

“Yeah. You want to go to that coffee shop on the other side of the street or just stand there? I would offer for you to come into the car but I feel like that’s really creepy and uncomfortable so we’re not doing that. Your pick. Coffee shop or the street? Both are safe and public places.”

The girl straightened her hat and bit her lip. “Coffee would be nice, but I don’t think I have any money with me anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“A long story.”

“I have time to listen. And as to what comes to the money, I’ll pay. Not expecting you to pay anything back.”

“Alright. Coffee shop it is.”

Dick opened the car door and stepped out, only now realising how short the girl was compared to him. God. He offered a hand to her, bowing slightly with a grin on his face, and finally he got her to chuckle. A hint of genuine happiness. That was good. One step forwards and all that.

“Shall we go, M’Lady?”

The girl stiffened.

Actually, no, it was more like she froze. She looked scared and uncomfortable all of a sudden, and Dick silently cursed himself.

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? No, scratch that, which of my actions made you uncomfortable? I need to know so I can stop doing it.”

“The’M’Lady part,” she whispered, biting her lip. “Just, this guy used to harass me and call me that.”

Shit.

“I’m so sorry, miss. I won’t do it again. Is there any other nickname you would be comfortable with — I tend to use a lot of nicknames for people —, or would you be more comfortable if I stuck with your name once you gave it to me?”

“Marinette. My name’s Marinette. As long as the nickname doesn’t sound like a pet name, I think I’ll be fine.”

“So, is Mari okay? Or Teacup? You’re so small that Teacup sounds right, but of course I won’t use that if it’s not okay with you.”

“Teacup… I think Teacup is fine.”

And then there was that stupid, wonderful, adorable smile that was now on her face again and Dick definitely loved it. He was pretty sure that if he got a chance to keep spending time with Marinette, he would probably start liking her more than was appropriate but that was not what he wanted to focus on now. Right now, it was making sure she got happier.

“Do you need a towel? I think we have some in the car, I could fetch you one,” he said, smiling at Mari.

“It… I think that could be nice, but you don’t need to do it. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I insist. You aren’t bothering me at all, I’d love to be able to help.”

“Thank you.” Then she stopped and looked like she needed to add something to it. Surely, a few seconds later she continued, “For just about everything.”

Dick just laughed and winked before he went to get the towel from the backseats. Then he gave the towel to Mari, keeping the smile on his face to try to reassure her everything would be fine, and that she wasn’t a bother.

While she was drying herself, Dick pulled out his phone and texted Babs that everything was fine, he hadn’t been kidnapped or anything, but that there had been this girl that needed some company and he was taking her to the coffee shop nearby. Soon enough, he got a message back saying that she was taking over the car and would drive herself back, that she wasn’t going to wait for his slow ass to come back. Then, a few seconds later, he received another message from her, telling him to not scare this one away if she was of age and to make sure that if she was smart and didn’t want Dick, she wanted to be introduced to her.

Dick laughed. Yeah, no, this one wouldn’t become hers, not if he could help it.

“Who was that?” Marinette asked as she handed the towel back to him. “Sorry, that wasn’t polite to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it, Teacup,” he grinned. She smiled, hopefully at the nickname. That was great. Dick accepted the towel and threw it back into the car. Babs wouldn’t be happy about it but she just had to deal. “It was my friend, the one I was with here. Told her she can go back on her own, though she’ll probably call one of my brothers to drive her,” he told her, closing the car and then checking if it locked. It did. Babs would survive, she should have the keys as well, and even if she didn’t, she could very well hack the car open with her phone.

She’d done it before, too.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your… date?”

“Nah, I’m not dating her. She wanted to go somewhere and just left me in the car, it’s fine. Besides, it was me that offered to take you to the coffee shop, wasn’t it?” Mari nodded. “Then it’s not your fault and you don’t need to apologise.”

Dick made sure she was ready to go before turning to the coffee shop and walking there with Mari. He tried to cheer her up by telling dumb stories of his family (like especially the time when Jason stole Tim’s room, rather literally. They’d found everything from the roof three days later. In turn, Tim had tampered with Jason’s sprinklers in his apartment, so they were extra sensitive, and the second he started smoking inside the apartment, they went off and there was water everywhere), and sometimes he even made her laugh. Once they got inside, she was a little more comfortable with him and with a little prompting and helping questions, she started telling him what had happened with the others.

Apparently, one of them was a pathological liar, and she had said something about sleeping with the CEO of the Wayne Enterprises, in a rather slandering way, and Mari had called her out on it. When Dick asked her how she’d guessed it was a lie (to which Mari had shot back how he knew it was a lie either and Dick had been forced to tell he knew the CEO, though he didn’t mention they were family just in case), and she told him it was less about knowing it was a lie and more calculating the likeliness of it being true. One, it was unlikely because the CEO was way younger than any of them, and two, as the person had been lying about nearly everything for years, so the most probable situation was that she was lying again.

“Usually I just leave her alone with her lies because none of them believe me and she managed to ruin my life once already. I don’t need her to do it again,” Mari huffed, sipping at her second coffee. Dick wasn’t completely sure how she managed to drink coffee like that, it was stronger than Tim’s when he went to a coffee shop, yet she drank it without a blink like she was drinking water.

“Ruined your life? As in…?”

“She got into one of my favourite fashion designer’s good graces, managed to convince him to completely blacklist me from any and all possible fashion companies and because of that even the one fashion designer that still liked me — Audrey Bourgeois — couldn’t hire me either. It would have been bad marketing. She also succeeded in her threat of taking away all my friends, and now all of them enjoy spreading false rumours about me behind my back so I can hardly get any new friends. I do get my living by selling my designs behind a name no one can link me to, but it’s not something I enjoy. What you saw wasn’t that big even. I’ve had worse happen to me because of them.”

“Then why did you defend the CEO everyone would lie about behind his back and to the newspapers and gossip magazines anyway? You don’t even know him, right?”

“No, but he’s so young, not even an adult yet. He doesn’t deserve it. It’s not like I could just watch it happen and do nothing! It’s not his fault Lila is a pathological liar with no consideration of how it affects others. This is the same girl that convinced our classmates Jagged Stone had written a song about her when she was still 14, which is bad because her parents hadn’t consented to it and Jagged is a middle-aged man.”

Mari sighed and set her cup aside before burying her face in her hands. “I’m just so tired of all this because I can hardly do anything about the situation and I hate it.”

Dick watched her silently. It was clear she was strong, stronger than most people he knew (and he knew a lot of people, most of them superheroes or vigilantes), and Dick respected it. She deserved a break. He knew he could do something about it because this Lila had lied about his little brother and the Wayne family definitely had all the resources it needed to bring the young woman down, but that wouldn’t help Mari. The blacklisting thing would stay for a long time, and that he couldn’t change. Not if he didn’t get someone even more powerful vouching for her anyway… Unless.

“Do you mind if I make a call? I’ll be right back. Feel free to order a third cup of coffee, I’m still paying. The barista with the red hair knows me, so he should be fine with it. Just tell him that Dick is paying and he can call Dick for all he wants if he doesn’t believe you, but that Dick’s coming back soon anyway. If he still doesn’t believe you, remind him that he’s literally one of the fastest people on earth and could probably catch you in two seconds flat,” he laughed, but for some reason the smirk that grew on her face at that made him a little suspicious.

She didn’t say anything about it though. “Oh, that’s fine, I’ll survive. I wasn’t thinking about running away anyway,” she said smiling, the smirk all but gone now, and if Dick hadn’t been absolutely certain he had seen it, he would’ve been doubting his eyes because how could this sweet girl smirk like… that. It reminded him of Jason’s smirk, or maybe the Red Hood’s smirk. It was rather disturbing.

But, Dick just shook it off and dialed Tim. It took a few rings before Tim answered, groaning out a frustrated “Yes? I’m in a meeting right now, dick.” Dick wasn’t sure whether to be shocked or impressed Tim had clearly used his name as an insult just now. God, he needed to stop hanging out with Jason.

“Well Timmers, I was wondering, do you have any fashion related projects at WE? Or any you could start? I have a… friend... who might need a job. She’s a fashion designer and apparently a pathological liar — who, by the way, lied about you and this friend of mine defended you — managed to get her blacklisted in the fashion world. It would be nice to keep her around. She showed me some of her sketches and finished clothing and I was allowed to take pictures of some she’s already finished and is selling so it wouldn’t matter as much to her if I had a picture of them.”

Tim sighed. “You could have just said you have a crush and need a job for said crush. Send the pictures over and I’ll decide then.”

“Way ahead of you, I did so like three seconds ago. Check your email, Timbo.”

“Cut it out. I’ll check them out and decide then if I—”

Tim went silent all of a sudden. After ten seconds, Dick decided he should check up on him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I am but— Did you happen to ask for who she is? Like, her designer name?”

“No…? I can though. Wait a second. Mari! What’s your designer name?”

Mari looked at him with wide eyes and two empty cups of coffee more in front of her. “Uh, L’ange, why?”

“Just wondering. Go order another coffee if you need one. Or, well, you know what, order as many as you want as long as Wally isn’t going to have my head for letting you drink too much caffeine.”

Marinette laughed and got up to get herself more coffee, smiling victoriously at Wally standing behind the counter who sighed, shot an unimpressed look at Dick and started chatting with Mari. It was amazing how Dick could see Wally fasten his pace while they talked but Mari just kept up like it was the most normal thing ever.

“Alright, she says it’s L’ange. Why?”

“It matters because I recognised the designs and clothes easily. They’re my favourite designer’s and I needed to know if you’d found them! And if your girl there indeed is L’ange like she says, you just met my favourite designer and I’m so, so jealous. I want to meet her. If she is who she says she is, I am going to create a fashion project with her if we don’t already have one.”

Dick laughed at Tim’s serious tone. “Alright Timmy, I’ll tell her the news. Have fun at the meeting, don’t let Lucius rip you a new one. Also, stop spending so much time with Jason. It’s good you’re getting better along but your use of language is getting worse.”

“Haha, funny, dick.” And Tim hung up.

How annoying. Why did he love his little brothers again?

“Teacup, put the coffee away, I’ve got a job offer that could help with your dream of becoming a professional designer who could use her own name for you. You want to hear it or are you going to try and talk Wally into hiring you here? Because you do know you won’t be able to drink as much coffee while working, right?”

That got him a (rather friendly, playful and non-homicidal) glare from Mari before she stuck her tongue out at him. Dick snorted and took out his credit card to pay Wally. Judging by the amount of empty coffee cups at their table and at the counter, Mari had drank more than enough. It was a little worrying and surprising that she wasn’t vibrating with energy or climbing the curtains. No, she looked more like a completely normal, not over-energised human being.

God, how much did she drink caffeine on the daily?

“Sure. Shoot.”

“My brother is a CEO and after seeing your designs, he recognised you. You’re apparently his favourite designer, and he’s completely ready to either find a fashion project for you to work on — using your own designs, of course — or to create one from the scratch with you if there isn’t one in existence already. Knowing him, he’d definitely fully credit you for all you do, although the most likely case is he’s going to market it as a collaboration between the company and you. He wishes to meet you,” he explained and watched Mari’s face go from a frown to surprise to a bright smile with a hint of suspicion.

“Really? Though first, who is this brother..?”

“So. You know how I said I just know Timothy Drake-Wayne?”

“...Yes?”

“He’s my adoptive little brother.”

“Alright… I can meet up with him then. It would be nice to be able to really get my name out there.”

“Great! WE is so big that it’s likely we would be able to mostly erase the blacklisting while at it, and if you’re working with us, we could also discredit the liar so it could make your life easier. Obviously, we would need proof of her words, but—”

“There’s an entire blog full of them. There should be enough proof, and I don’t think I’d be surprised if she’d used your family before if you’re indeed of the Wayne family.”

“Well, that I can certainly prove by taking you to meet Timmy. Bye Wally, have fun working!”

Wally snorted and quickly waved before getting back to work. “I will, but I think you should be the one to remember not to have too much fun at work. We still up for the weekend?”

“Obviously.”

oOoOo

Three hours and twenty-seven minutes later, one Marinette Dupain-Cheng was hired by Timothy Drake-Wayne while Dick Grayson grinned outside Tim’s office at Marinette’s thumbs up.

Seventy-nine days later the collaboration of WE, Timothy Drake-Wayne, L’Ange and Marinette Dupain-Cheng had been created, presented, accepted and started, which was then celebrated by one Dick Grayson bringing a bottle of rose wine for himself and Marinette, and apple juice (that was then thrown at Dick) for Tim to celebrate the beginning of a beautiful partnership.

Six months and fourteen days after that, around the time they started advertising the collaboration for the first time, the issue with one Lila Rossi got significantly worse and they were forced to take legal action right then and there. The Ladyblog was found full of lies, of a lot of people the Wayne family knew, but of them and even more of Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Three months and seventeen days later Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood in front of the court, testifying against Delilah Rossi, who was then found guilty for defamation of character of countless of people, of which some of them had led to life-ruining consequences. Delilah Rossi did not stand a chance. This also led to a thorough investigation of one Gabriel Agreste who was found guilty for terrorism, which also resulted in Delilah Rossi found guilty for assisting a terrorist. The known teen model Adrien Agreste who turned out to be the previous superhero Chat Noir was also accused of assisting a known terrorist. All three were sentenced, Delilah Rossi and Gabriel Agreste to a lifetime in prison, Adrien Agreste to three years in prison for being a minor accomplice as well as the continuous sexual harassment of Ladybug, who, after further investigation, revealed herself as the designer Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

A year, a month and three days later, L’Ange de la Gotham was released to the public. It became a massive success. Wayne Enterprises expected to do more collaborations with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the chief designer and founder of MDC, previously known as L’Ange. One Dick Grayson was photographed proposing to the young designer, who then proceeded to scream yes and throw herself at her new fiancé.

Seven months and twenty-one days later MDC changes name to MDCG. A group of young French adults are arrested for trespassing on Dick Grayson and Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Grayson’s private property. These young adults are found to be Mrs. Dupain-Cheng-Grayson’s ex-classmates. They do not press charges for more than trespassing.

Two weeks later the Daily Planet has a new first page article written by newcomer Conner Kent: Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Grayson, a victim of defamation of character by terrorist Delilah Rossi finally opens up about getting attacked by her ex-classmates for years: “It hurt, but I could no longer care less. Justice and karma have been served to them, cold.” The article becomes a hit and the biggest success of the year, winning over even articles of alien attacks, superman, new superheroes and Alya Césaire's downfall.

Through all the years the youngest of the Flying Graysons holds the hand of the upcoming and successful Chinese-French designer MDCG, and neither plan to let go.

Because the other brings them strength.

____

All MariBat tags: @kris-pines04 @thethirdwheelfriend @daminett4life

Taglists open

#dick grayson #maribat #dickinette #marinette dupain cheng #dick x marinette #ml x dc #ml #dc #fanfic #fanfiction #ethel's writing

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

Text

Empires on the Horizon I

Jason is a CEO: Part I

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

i fear it might break me

then break

break

let spirit crack you open

-a letter to the king

There was something almost sinister in the whiskey-induced haze of a Manhattan skyline. The buildings nothing but dark blocks, uneven stairs.

There was something lonely about the haze too.

But Jason Grace couldn't give two shits about the blackening playground of buildings, couldn't give two shits about the incredible view from his twenty-second story window, couldn't give two shits about anything except his whiskey bottle and the burn because today could only be described as hell. Worse than hell maybe.

His son of a bitch ex-boyfriend and his son of a bitch new girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend now, had decided to christen his office. The deal he'd been working on for months didn't get legal approval, which meant everything had to be redrafted. And on top of everything his sister called to tell him she’s setting him up on a date with a quote, unquote ‘lovely girl who seems just right for him.’ He wanted to slam his phone across the room, and he would have if he didn't believe she had the supernatural abilities to know when he was pissy.

The shrill ring of said phone interrupted his anger.

"Talk to me"

"Hello Grace, you sound like shit."

"I'd sound better if you didn't fucking call me, you ass."

A laugh echoed down the phone.

"What do you want Valdez?" A smile played at Jason's lips, despite his day.

"Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing," Leo Valdez sighed, "I heard what happened with bimbo and brainless today."

He winced, "I don't know if I want to burn my office or throw them in an unmarked swamp to swim with the crocs."

"We can do both." His friend replied, conviction lacing his words.

He chuckled darkly shaking his head, "I think I'm just gonna drown myself in the good stuff tonight. I'll face the world tomorrow."

"Okay, I've sent over a tub of your favourite ice-cream. Sorry I can't be there; The lady has been raving about this theatre show for months. I'll be dead if I bail now."

"No worries Firefly, thanks for the ice-cream. Let's meet tomorrow for dinner?"

"Sure bro. I'll book us at the Labyrinth."

"Great and bring your better half!"

A laugh was the only reply before the call ended.

Jason collapsed onto the couch, folding his body into the corner of the seat and taking a large swig from the whiskey. Every time his mind wandered to the horrors of the day he drank. It took a horrifyingly short time to see the bottom of the bottle. The world blurred and tilted, swayed like young trees fighting against the wind. Tears spilled hot and fresh down his cheeks- he didn’t bother to wipe them away. Today he was allowed to cry, today he was allowed to break. It was okay, okay...

“OKAY!” He yelled, trying to untangle his legs from the blanket and wipe the drool on his mouth.

The banging at the door started up again and he cursed a blue streak. With a growl he yanked the door open, “What?”

“Well good morning to you too Mr. Grace,” A cheery-faced Hazel Levesque greeted.

“Hazel,” He sighed “Hi, sorry I- come in,”

“Everything okay Boss?”

“Had a bit of a rough day yesterday, I’m sure I smell like the inside of a whiskey bottle,”

“Uh-I don’t know if I should say anything to that,”

“Good call, I might burst into tears if you do.”

She gave him a wide-eyed look but he waved a dismissive hand, picking up the pillows he had flung in rage and the bottle he had discarded just before he crashed on his couch.

“I’m going to go shower; I’ll update you over some breakfast.”

She gave him a long look before nodding and taking up a set at the kitchen counter. He thought about explaining or offering her something to drink but his soul was exhausted; at the very least he could help himself to a shower before he had to face the world.

The water scorched his back, his forehead pressed to the cool tile. He considered himself lucky for having eaten before he got drunk, otherwise he would have spent the morning with his head in a toilet bowl. His brain pounded against his skull but the alcohol was only half to blame; crying for two hours had its fair contribution.

“Okay you can do this. You’ve gotten through a lot of shit, you can get through this.” He stared himself down in his mirror, fixed the clasp on his watch and shouldered his suit jacket.

With a deep breath he stepped out of his room, his business face firmly in place.

“Shall we grab coffee at Reedpipes, you can update me on my schedule on the way.”

“Sounds good Boss let’s go,”

And within a matter of moments they were stepping into their favourite café. Flowers bloomed in the middle of every table and ivy wrapped around the industrial fixtures above them. A bright hello sounded from the barista’s station.

“Good Morning Grover,” He smiled, at the bearded man already frantically working on their orders.

“How’s it going? I haven’t seen you in a hot minute.” Warm eyes twinkled up at him. It took immense self-control not to burst into tears.

Grover, oblivious to his turmoil prattled on, “Hazel how’s the strawberry pot coming along? Did the compos-“

Jason zoned out, the world becoming a blur of sound and moving colours. His mind hurtled him back to yesterday when he had walked into his office– oh gods it hurt to think about. The evidence of them had been everywhere. Clothes strewn on the floor, his papers and trinkets thrown like a hurricane had swept through. And they had just grinned, like they were waiting, like they planned for it. His stomach flipped, ache and regret flooding him.

“Mr Grace!” A small hand shook his shoulders.

He startled back to the present, “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay” Hazel gave him a weird look, “I’ve got our coffees let’s grab a seat.”

He nodded letting her lead them to a little wooden table in the corner of the shop. Sun was just starting to filter in, and the beams caught on the subtle gold accents rimming each table. Once they had settled in across from each other she handed him his cappuccino and took a long slurp of her iced coffee before setting her intimidating golden eyes on him.

“Spill Boss.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Yesterday I went back to my office after the meeting with Titan Industries, we need to do a redraft for that by the way,”

She nodded, already tapping on her phone to diarise an appointment with the legal team.

“So I get the office and Piper and Luke–“ He gulped, steeling himself, “They decided to use my office as their playground.”

He didn’t know how to put it delicately and little Hazel shouldn’t have to hear his real thoughts on the matter which mostly sounded like ‘fucking fucks, stupid dumbass wankers’ and various other curse words

“Oh Jason,” She gasped softly, reaching out a hand to squeeze his, “I am so sorry. Why are you even coming in to work today? You should have taken the day to yourself.”

“I still have a business to run Hazel, and besides I can’t let their selfishness stop me.”

“You are allowed to be hurt Jason.”

“I know, I know. But I can be hurt this weekend, right now we need to redraft that stupid contract and I need to make some calls about the new buildings starting this week,”

“Right will add that, don’t forget we need to get your suit for the alumni dinner on Friday,”

“Ugh I forgot about that, okay just pencil that in for some time today and maybe call Drew or Silena to find out if they can have a few ready for me to try on. Also I have dinner with Valdez tonight so no calls after six thirty.”

“You got it Boss, and hey–“ She tugged at his sleeve making sure he looked at her, “If at any point you need to stop, you let me know. And if I see you neglecting yourself like you did last time, I will book a trip to the smallest island in the middle of the damn ocean and throw you on a plane myself,”

He laughed at his fiery assistant, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Yes ma’am.”

***

Jason’s day wasn’t going great, but it was at least fifty times better than yesterday. All his belongings had been moved to the floor above and his tainted office was being cleaned out. He didn’t know if he wanted to go back there ever again but maybe he could convert it into a room for his employees. At least they won’t be haunted by the events that occurred. His call with Miss Arellano had gone surprisingly well even if the drafting of this stupid Titan Industries project was proving to be a real pain in the ass. He didn’t even know if it was worth it to do this much readjusting.

“Hey boss,” Hazel knocked at his door, “Frank is here to take you to your suit appointment,”

“Damn is it already four?” He frowned at his watch, “Alright give me two minutes to finish this email and then I’ll be ready. You should go home for the day.”

She snorted, “Thanks, but I got some admin to catch up on. You mind if Frank comes back to drop me off at home afterwards though?”

“No problem, you know he would be happy to do it.”

And maybe if Jason hadn’t been so distracted, he would have caught the blush his assistant was trying so hard to stop.

“Right well, let me know if you pick out a suit or if I need to reschedule. Also Mr Valdez called to confirm your reservation at the Labyrinth for seven thirty.”

“Thank you,” He gave her a brief smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before turning his attention back to his blinking cursor.

***

“Hello ladies,” He entered the open, marbled boutique that was Aphrodite’s Armour.

“Jason!” A sweet voice squealed, coming towards him for a hug.

“Hello Silena, how are you?”

“Much better now that my favourite customer is here,”

“Aww,” Another voice pouted, “I thought I was your favourite customer?”

“Babe you don’t count,” Silena laughed, booping her fiancé on the nose.

“Well if it makes you feel any better Drew, I know she’s lying because she says that to all the customers.”

Silena gasped, smacking his arm, “I DO not.”

“Yes you do hun,” Drew laughed, “You here for your suit Mr Grace?”

“Yea it’s for the alumni dinner at SPQR University this Friday,”

“Oh yes we’ve heard a lot about this dinner. We’ve had all manner of folks come in these last few days.” Silena nodded, already making her way to the back of the store.

“I’m sure. It’s the big charity dinner where they get all the ‘successful’ alumni together and then milk us for all we’re worth.” He shook his head with a smile.

“Ah you rich people can afford it,” Drew scoffed, smirking at him over her shoulder.

“Yes I do agree,” He nodded, “Where’s my favourite of you lot?”

“Oh Charlie isn’t in. It’s Wednesday so he has to go to his sites.”

“He’ll be sad he missed you though, I think he has some project he wants to pitch.”

“Tell him to give me a call, I’m always happy to talk business.”

“Yes, although I’m sure he’ll be much happier to get down to business with you,” Drew cackled.

“And how would his two fiancées feel about that?” He raised a blonde brow.

“Quite excited,” Silena bubbled, a glitter in her eyes.

Jason let out a real laugh for the first time all day, “Sorry darlings but I don’t think I’d be much fun right now.”

Drew gave him a kiss on the cheek “Well, we’ll be here when you do.”

“Much appreciated,” He grinned.

“Okay, I think I have the perfect one!” Silena moved from behind the racks shoving a black bag into his hands, “Go try it on.”

He stumbled into the changing room and pulled out a gorgeous maroon suit. The lining was a deep blue and the detailing on the seams matched it perfectly. He knew immediately this would be a favourite of his and got confirmation when two minutes later he stepped out to gasps and applause.

“Mr Grace,” Drew’s eyes were wide.

“This is the best one yet,” Silena sighed, assessing him.

“Thank you ladies, it really is beautiful.”

“I think the wearer may be more so,” A low voice from behind them said.

Jason’s head shot up only for his gaze to land on the most exquisite person he had ever had the privilege of laying his eyes on. The beautiful stranger stood with their hands tucked in their pocket and an appreciative look on their face.

“Oh Mr Jackson we didn’t think you’d be here so early.” Silena jumped into action, ushering him through the door and out of site.

Jason was standing stock-still unable to get the image of sparkling green eyes and molten brown skin out of his head.

“Who was that?” He breathed.

Drew was pulling at his suit, synching it and marking the fabric with needles.

“Oh that was Mr Jackson, he comes in here fairly often too. It’s a wonder you haven’t met before, I’m sure you run around the same social circles, what with your fancy parties and all that,” She was mumbling around a mouth full of measuring tape.

“I’ve never seen him before in my life. Trust me I would remember a face like that.”

That got the seamstress’ attention, “Oh someone has a crush,”

“How could you not? We did see the same person, right? Tall, wonderful curly black hair, unbelievable sea green eyes, a voice like crashing waves and earth and-“

He was cut off by her laughing.

“What?” He frowned.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fall so hard from a five second interaction.”

He blushed, looking away from her all-knowing gaze, “I’m just saying what I saw.”

“Well I’m pretty sure he’s going to the dinner on Friday so maybe you can talk to him there.”

‘He’s what?” He whipped around to look at her, eyes comically wide.

“Yea, he was telling us all about it when he came in earlier this week.”

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” He muttered, heart racing.

“Oh don’t panic, he’s honestly one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet.” She shrugged before pulling at his arm to take the measurement, “Alright, all set to go. You can pick up the suit tomorrow afternoon or we can send it tomorrow evening?’

“Uh yea, send it.” He said distractedly, already pulling on his clothes.

Drew gave him a cheeky smile, “Goodbye Mr Grace,”

“Bye Drew, tell Silena I said bye, and tell Charlie to call me.”

He stepped into the entrance of the shop, but the beautiful man was nowhere to be found. With a final glance around he made his way into the street, ready for dinner with his friends.

“Hello Grace, glad to see you haven’t gone full hermit,”

“Hello Leo,” He snorted, “It was the ice-cream you sent last night. It gave me hope.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” His friend laughed, “How are you though, seriously?”

“I’ve seen better days, but I’ve seen worse too. I’ll get over it.”

“There is no doubt in my mind Jason Grace,” A soft reassurance floated towards them.

He smiled, pushing out of his seat, “Hello Annabeth,” He enveloped her in a hug.

“Hello my darling,” She gave him a gentle smile.

He let her go and she moved around him to give Leo a quick peck. He smiled at her with overflowing adoration and muttered a soft, “Hello love,”

“Tell us what happened?” She sat down next to her boyfriend and reached out to squeeze Jason’s hand.

So he took a deep breath and relayed the story of his nightmare yesterday. By the time he was finished the couple looked like they were ready to storm the castle and beat Luke and Piper with sledgehammers and drawing compasses.

Annabeth’s grey eyes were hard and stormy with anger, “I’m going to kill them,”

“Don’t worry babe I’m there to help.” Leo said vehemently.

Jason couldn’t help but smile at the protectiveness of his friends, “Thank you guys but I’m fine. Really.”

They gave him a dubious look, their expressions so similar it was comical. He gave them another, hopefully, reassuring smile before they launched into a discussion about work.

Both were engineers with too many degrees to count and an abundance of knowledge circling between them. It was almost scary how exquisitely their minds worked. Jason had recruited them time again for his projects– from designing the education center to building the water systems and electricity grids in the downtown area. His work helping small businesses and improving ‘run-down’ neighbourhoods would be a thousand times harder if he didn’t have them to help him in design and implementation. Annabeth, as the civil engineer, often went to sites with him and over saw a fair few of his community projects. Leo was a mechanical engineering professor at the university they all attended but he was always willing to help if need be. Jason was eternally grateful for that because he didn’t trust many others to oversee his works.

When dessert had been cleared away sometime later the three were laughing and ribbing each other like they were back in college and not big-time owners of various companies.

“Okay, okay,” Leo gasped, “No more of your stories man. Annabeth doesn’t need to know all my secrets.”

The lady in question snorted, digging her elbow into his side, “You wish you had secrets. If you can’t recall I was there for ninety percent of your dumbassery in varsity and I’m here for one hundred percent of it now.”

“You don’t know what happened on our guys nights,” Leo narrowed his cassiterite eyes at her.

“Keep telling yourself that honey,” She smirked.

Jason watched on in amusement as Leo’s face morphed into panic.

“Tell me she’s lying Grace?”

Annabeth’s smirk was wicked, “Oh yes Valdez I know about the ‘pants on fire’ situation, and the ‘jumped off a Ferris wheel situation’ and the–“

“Okay stop. How did you ever choose to date me knowing all these things?” He looked at her with some mixture of horror and wonder.

She shrugged, “I figured if you were smart enough to get a PhD and a Masters you were smart enough to know when I’ll kill you for doing something stupid.”

Jason burst out laughing, “She may be taking your space at the top of my favourite’s list Firefly.”

His friend gave him a look of disgust, “That’s just rude, we’ll see who takes your phone away next time you’re drunk on vodka,”

They all dissolved into fits of giggles after that and Jason felt his heart grow a hundred times lighter.

“Are you guys going to the dinner?”

Annabeth nodded, “I heard the university has a proposition for us this year.”

“I’m mostly excited for the mini tacos,” Leo grinned.

“You’re always excited for the tacos,” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“I can’t help it, there’s just something about them, you know?”

Jason couldn’t help but agree. They really were delicious.

“I guess I’ll see you guys there.”

“You can count on it,” Annabeth gave another of her dazzling smiles, reaching forward to rest a hand on his arm.

“And don’t worry bro I know for a fact Luke isn’t going to be there.”

“Yea I know,” He sighed, “I asked Hazel to check this morning.” They stepped into the chilly night.

“Call us if you need anything,” Leo gave him a look before pulling him in for a hug. Annabeth echoed the sentiment and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He watched them walk towards their car, fingers intertwined, Annabeth’s blonde curls resting against Leo’s shoulder. A flutter of ache washed through him at their closeness, their easiness. He had had that once. Until Luke had gotten greedy with his ambition. And he may have had that with Piper if she hadn’t decided to screw his ex.

His life was a mess.

Yet when he crashed into bed that night he felt more hopeful and loved than he had in a long time. He slipped into sleep with a soft smile playing on his lips.

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

Okay what are we saying? How do we feel? GIVE ME THOUGHTS!

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts @leydiangelo @queen-of-demons-and-hell @msdrpreist @sparkythunderstorm @nishlicious-01

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crownsandhawaiianshirts · 4 years

Text

The Wi-Fi’s down

Chapter 1- pt.2

Wilbur had a headache. A huge fucking headache.

He wasn’t sure if he was dying or hungover, but if he was dying, he sure as hell would have appreciated it if it could hurry up.

Wilbur groaned and practically dug his fingers into his eyeballs, trying his best to relieve the pain.

He yawned again and rolled over; but this time, instead of feeling the gorgeous softness of his pillow—his head hit the bedside table and his body smacked the ground along with it and a loud thud was heard. Wilbur felt like he could have cried.

This was not a good start.

Wilbur, after lying still for 10 minutes on the floor, felt around for his sunglasses which he took down with him, shoved them on his face and tried his best to stand vertical.

He trudged down the stairs of his parents house, hitting all the walls and every table that he could.

He blindly rummaged through the bathroom cabinet for some paracetamol while sluggishly cupping the water in his hands to drink it.

After sitting on the toilet seat with his head on the wall for ten minutes, he finally felt in a suitable place to muster standing up.

He stomped into the kitchen, grabbing whatever foods he could: bacon, eggs, funny smelling bread. Then he was good to go.

After multiple attempts of actually aiming for his mouth and mostly failing, Wilbur felt full.

They had a few strips of bacon left over so he put them on a plate and left them out for his parents.

He felt everytime something came too close to his face, his eyes became too disoriented to focus.

After staring at the wall for about 20 minutes Wilbur begrudgingly got up from his chair to go grab a pair of shoes so he could go pick up some more coffee from the corner shop because his parents had ran out of the instant one.

After fixing a beanie on his head and sunglasses still pushed harshly on his face, he was rearing to go, kinda.

It was very nostalgic for him, living back home. He saw all his old neighbours and the post office that still sold cute sweets.

On the way down the high street he heard shouting and calls coming from the large steps of the town houses.

This was far too early and far too loud; Wilbur was not pleased as he grimaced under his sheath of hair swept over his face.

When Wilbur tried his best to slink past the steps, he did not expect to be grabbed by the shoulders and shaken rather violently.

“You! Do you know where my wife is?” The man who Wilbur noticed was still wearing a bathrobe, looked shaken up and scared.

“Uhh-“

“Do you know where anyone is?” The man said instead.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” Wilbur tried to stand back a little, not wanting to be too close to the strange man.

“Look around. No one is ANYWHERE.” The man gestured around wildly and vaguely.

After a moment of watching the man concernedly, Wilbur looked away slowly and saw no one was about, all cars were empty. Some looked to even just be abandoned in the street.

What the hell? He thought to himself.

“Don’t you see? Everyone’s GONE.” The man in the bathrobe shouted; and with no other noise to drown it out, it seemed like his shout of anguish echoed around the haunting street.

——

(I’ve changed Deryn’s age to 9-10 for CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT)

Deryn awoke peacefully. The sun was in her face and the feeling of rest made her feel full and awake.

Her morning routine was simple and easy. After all, no one was there to tell her to get up or actually be someone.

You see, Deryn is a latchkey kid. This means that more often than not, her parents or any guardian isn’t really around, so she’s just left to do her own thing.

She rubbed her eyes and scratched her head as she stumbled down the corridor to the kitchen.

She does like the independence that comes with it, it just makes things easier not having to constantly feel like you have to adhere to someone’s needs of god forbid feelings.

And it’s not like Deryn is lazy or anything; many of her teachers all say that she’s a gifted child with a good, mature understanding of things. They do, though always tend to go on the same spiel about seeming stand-offish or reclusive, but she wasn’t fussed, really.

She poured herself a bowl of cereal and a glass of apple and mango juice (the superior drink).

Because Deryn never really had anyone around to be strict on table manners or etiquette in general, you’d often find her eating on counters; or spilling her food everywhere when eating; or holding her knife and fork in different ways that were always slightly off.

She didn’t really have anything on the agenda for the day, so she thought that she’d catch up on some reading.

At this moment, she was reading “leviathan” by Scott Westerfield (it’s a great book, you all should read it).

More often than not, Deryns mind would often wonder when reading, and not much reading would actually get done.

Sometimes she found herself contemplating numbers and why they existed, or how to construct the best interpretation of a dog made of macaroni to ever come into fruition, or maybe even her plot to wage war with the boy behind her in class who keeps kicking her chair.

As far as Deryn was concerned, the world was still moving; nothing had changed.

She was perfectly content with her own little bubble of life.

——

WOW you guys really liked pt.1!

Also, you will from now on be able to find all uploads of The Wi-Fi’s down in the tag “The Wi-Fi’s down” below.

Here’s pt.2 HOPE YOU ENJOY

MWAH 💕

Previously next

#Spotify #philza #sleepy boys inc #wilbur soot #technoblade #tommyinnit #The Wi-Fi’s down

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jjsjuiceboxx · 4 years

Text

LOVE TRIANGLE

POPExREADERxTOPPER

REQUESTED FOR: @letsgofullkook

SUMMARY: a love triangle between readerxtopper and readerxpope

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️: underage drinking, smoking, cuss words, angst.

︎A/N- revamping my stuff so I’m just editing for decoration and stuff to make it pop more and draw attention ( no changes to the actual fic ), happy reading :).

☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎

You were currently on hms pogue with John B, Kie, pope, and JJ you were zoning out looking how the suns reflection could be seen from the water of the marsh, you were pulled out of your thoughts when Kie started to talk about the kegger tonight at the boneyard.

“ok so who is going to bring what?“ Kie asked looking to everyone expectantly.

Across the boat you can see JJ smirk “you all already know I’ve got the weed.”

“I’ll have the kegs filled up and take them both to the boneyard.” John B stated

You were about to speak but was cut off suddenly when you felt a cold chill approaching, “hey are you ok y/n?” Pope asked you slightly concerned.

“Yeah dont worry Pope I just got a cold chill suddenly it’s gone now tho.” You smiles sweetly at him for even noticing and then instantly be concerned Pope eyed you suspiciously he could still see chill pumps on your arms so he walked to his bag and pulled out his hoodie, his favorite one that he won’t even let John b or JJ wear.

Instead of Pope handing it to you he put it over your shoulders letting you slip your arms into them then he zipped it up for you, you blushed at the action heart pounding pope smiled at you.

“Really she can wear your hoodie without asking but when we ask nicely you don’t let us? Man I even say please I never say please!” JJ explained shocked

“She isn’t a cluts like John b and doesn’t spill beer everywhere and I cannot have you making my hoodie reek of weed, besides it’s Y/N we are talking about she doesn’t need to ask” Pope state’s non challenger

“Wow pope you’re a changed man.” Kie said laughing at the end and sending a wink your way

You were close with all the pogues but you and kie were the closest gossiping with one another about kooks and the boys while you did face masks and painted each other’s nails she knew you had a crush on pope which is odd considering he isn’t your type but he is so smart and it’s almost mysterious and he isn’t afraid to tell random people he wants to be a coroner and then proceed to tell them facts about what happens after you die and you couldn’t help but catch feelings.

“Wow pope you’re a changed man.” Kie said laughing at the end and sending a wink your way.

☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎ ☮︎

You and the rest of the pogues were now at the boneyard setting up for the kegger kie brought chips and a speaker to blast music, John b had the kegs and was setting them up, JJ sat down on a big fallen tree with his small contribution his weed, pope had a cooler with ice and more drinks inside while you carried a beach chair and solo cups kie also had you pick up straws for some of the beer in the cooler and it HAD to be recyclable.

“Y/N you know even at parties we have to save the turtles and other animals and our only earth.” She said seriously when you went to object she gave you a stern look.

“Yeah yeah....right the straws” you said kinda scared

“recyclable straws recyclable is important” she hollered after you now you were putting the straws on the table and putting solo cups out to be easily grabbed when you saw a few kooks show up a little earlier probably to set up their own beers and what not

But you couldn’t help but think Topper would be here yes he was dating Sarah but he always flirted with you before and during the relationship you at first hated it but one day when he stopped you realized you miss it so you decided the next time you saw him you would flirt first and so you did he then offered to get you a coffee and eat and you really got to know topper not kook topper, he hated pogues and was rude to them but he has never said anything bad about you atleast not to your face he always bullied the others.

As more people showed up you started to get anxious about toppers arrival you knew he was coming he always does the question was when ? And do you go up and talk to him ? When it’s just him and you you guys always talk about real stuff and you see that topper is just like the rest of us just slightly more perfect and put together.

You decided to start getting drunk to calm your nerves once you had two cups you were tipsy still sober enough to remember things and control yourself but a lot more relaxed and care free you saw pope walk away from taking to a girl and decided to dance with him.

“Pope come dance with me I love this song” you said cheerfully while spinning around

“Fine but If you get sick from spinning I’ll be mad” he laughed grabbing your hand

You and pope danced for 30 mins or something laughing and joking around and then suddenly you caught a glimpse of a tall tan boy with frosted tips along with Sarah and Kelce right by his side a slow song was playing and pope had you facing the entrance to the boneyard suddenly you and topper made eye contact he Gave you a slight nod in which you returned with a smile but it suddenly shifted when he looked away shaking his head so pulled back from pope and started taking his hoodie off

“I’m getting hot from all the Dancing I’m gunna grab a drink and cool off” you told him Pope pulled you into a tight hug that lasted about a minute.

“Thank you for dancing with me I’ve always wanted to slow dance with a pretty girl.” Pope stated shyly scratching the back of his head.

“Aww I’ll slow dance with you anytime handsome” you said blushing getting on your tip toes and kissing his cheek letting it linger for a bit you back off seeing him blush under the moonlight you handed him his hoodie and walked to get a drink.

While waiting in the line for a drink you looked up to see Sarah climbing a red buoy and Kelce and topper trying to get her down safely you looked away not wanting to catch their eyes. You hadn’t noticed but topper gave up as Sarah was being rather difficult while kelce climber up with her to pry her hands off the top of the buoy.

You felt a light tap on your shoulder prying your eyes away from John b trying to impress tourons by juggling some beers, your eyes met a pair of eyes you were all familiar with, topper.

“Hey there ken of the outerbanks, hows it hanging in the Barbie dream house?” You questioned amused

Topper laughed at your nickname you gave him “it isn’t the Barbie dream house when she isn’t my Barbie you’re” topper declared

You and topper during many of your hang outs tho you like to calls them private dates where you just talk and laugh he was wearing a bright salmon polo and khaki shorts with a belt and some sperrberrys to match and let out a little chuckle and said he looked like your old ken doll you have “accidently” taken from school, oops.

Topper laughed “ok ok fine I’ll take it but you have to be my Barbie” he said laughing

“Ok I’ll be the Barbie to you ken”

And hence the day the nicknames had been born. By this time it was your turn to get your drink topper took your cup and filled it up and gave it back to you while he did his.

“Wow who knew topper Thornton could be such a gentlemen” you mocked

“Oh haha you’re so funny aren’t you Barbie” topper said sarcastically

You were about to come up with a remark when he suddenly turned to you stopping you in your tracks looking at you seriously.

“Hey can we like uh talk somewhere?” He questioner awkwardly.

“Yeah of course top Ik a good place” you motioned him to follow you in a set of bushes near the woods looking around once you got there for any horny drunk teens only to find none.

“Is everything ok topper? You’re never really serious unless something is wrong” you said worrying you know a conversation with topper was serious when you said his name and not a nickname.

“I know you’re friends with pope and I’m with Sarah but I can’t talk to Sarah or rafe and Kelce the way I can with you I feel like the real me I had forgotten about and you help me find it again, I don’t know I guess I got slightly jealous seeing you dance with Pope and laughing while wearing his hoodie” topper said quickly

You put your hands on either side of his cheek making him look you in the eyes you stared at him in an adoring way “topper I feel the same but I’m a pogue you’re a kook even though we understand one another not everyone can see it that way, I mean rafe could unfriend you Sarah wouldn’t be around and I don’t want you to lose that because of me” you said softly

“I know I know it just sucks because I do really like you I want To be with you, don’t get me wrong I like Sarah too but I feel pressured because of my parents saying and putting words into my head makes me wonder if I really like her or if I just think I do, but one thing for sure I know I like you” topper stated stepping closer

By this time Sarah was looking for topper him being gone far to long for “getting a drink” when she neared the keg topper was no where insight “hey kie I know you hate me but have you seen topper? He was getting drinks and now he is gone” Sarah explained looking around

“ I saw him walk down the beach following someone too dark to tell who, I know what you’re thinking that I’m saying that to upset you like or whatever but I’m not” kie defended rolling her eyes.

“No I can tell when your lying I believe you thank you” Sarah said walking off in the direction joe pointed too.

“Topper I like you too but I don’t know how this could work and I don’t want to hurt you saying this but I also like pope but we don’t flirt nearly as much as we do he doesn’t know I like him” you said looking down not wanting to hurt him

“ hey hey it’s ok friends who spend all the time together are bound to catch feelings whether it’s one sided or not I’m not upset thank you for being honest” he said smiling softly tucking some hair behind your ear you smiled leaning into his soft touch.

Pope was a little further down the beach then Sarah was pope sat in front of the fire with a marshmallow on a stick while John b laughed at pope trying to teach JJ how to roast a perfect marshmallow for the worlds best s’mores, “JJ you need to hold both hands one on top of the other at the bottom of the stick and then push your marshmallow down at the top till the stick poked through the marshmallow so it won’t fall into the fire and waste the marshmallow, then you hold it just above the flames. No not like that it’s too close you will catch the marshmallow on fire....again. Now you wait 5 mins then rotate it to the other side and then wait 5 mins and do the same all over so it gets a perfect brown shade don’t catch it on fire because one it’s bitter two it is a lot more hot and three some sparks could be left on it that you can’t see and will burn the shit out of your tongue possible 2nd degree burn that grants a hospital visit now you see mine is perfectly brown on all sides now you take your graham crackers and put the marshmallow on one then the chocolate then you sandwich it all together like so and bam you’ve got yourself the worlds best s’more” Pope said with a chefs kiss after he did a technical tutorial on the proper way to make a smore for the poor boy who has never learned how.

“Eww mine looks like toe cheese” JJ said grimacing.

“ I don’t want to know why you know that man.” John b said watching it play out amusingly.

“Just eat it JJ it’s good the best ever honestly, off topic have you seen y/n I havnt seen her in 30 mins” pope asked curiously

“Aww pope you have a crush on the baby pogue” JJ said teasingly

“JJ leave him alone who cares if he likes her damn, but uh I saw her walk the way” John b Pointed in the direction you had went

Pope stood up nodding his head going in that direction to look for the girl he was soo in love with still ahead of Sarah.

You could feel the tension between you and topper being so close to one another he started to lean on slowly and you did too not being in control of your body you were so lost in his eyes your lips finally touched and it was slow and passionate and it felt like time has stopped just as it was getting more heated you heard a twig snap and looked behind topper to see a wide eyed pope standing there.

“ y/n....what’s going on why are you kissing topper ???” Pope asks shocked

“I..I” you stuttered startled that pope who you like caught you kissing another guy you also like

“Topper you there?” You heard Sarah’s voice from behind a tree

“He’s right here” Pope deadpanned looking you straight in the eye

“ topper there yo- what are you two doing?” Sarah asked confused

“We were just talking babe.” Topper said softly

“Yeah If by talking you mean tongues in each other’s mouths” pope said angrily

Sarah stares between you and topper shocked “is..is this true topper?” Sarah asked quietly when topper looked down and didn’t say anything she knew her answer.

“Wow and after all I’ve told you about my past and you do this, you told me you loved me” Sarah said walking away.

“Pope look I ca-“ you were cut off by pope speaking

“No no you don’t get to talk right now, I thought you liked me? I know you never said it but I can pick up some ques, I gave you my favorite hoodie so you were warm I danced with you and I stood for an hour waiting for you and you never showed. Was I just a toy for you to use when topper isn’t here?” Pope asked sad

“What no of course not I like you a lot Pope I really do, but I also like topper as well and I’m so confused I don’t know why or how anything would work with any of us with the no pogue on pogue macking rule and the whole kook vs pogue thing I...I just don’t know” you said ashamed

“Wow, you were just talking shit about topper the other day and now you like him? I’m sorry y/n I can’t do this right now you don’t like me because if you did you wouldn’t have has another guy so pick topper” Pope said tears in his eyes leaving the seen fast.

You looked at topper tears running down your face he immediately wrapped you In his arms rubbing your head as a loud sob shot out of your body and a bunch of oh my gods.

“Hey hey it’s ok just let him cool down and then you can speak it him rationally I’m not mad you like us both I get it all I ask is that you give me a chance and Pope too and then when you’re ready you can choose who you want or choose neither of us” topper said reassuringly.

You pulled out of his embrace nodding your head as you wiped your tears away planning on what to tell pope when everything is calmed down.

#topper #topper outer banks #topper obx #obx fanfiction #obx x reader #obx #outer banks imagines #topper thorton x reader #topper thorton imagine #pope outer banks #pope hayward imagine #pope heyward

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rogah-wrote-gaga · 4 years

Text

Happy Halloqueen!

Is it Safe Here?, written for @brianmays-badgers from your halloqueen anon (who is not so anon now ;)) I hope you like it!

pairing: Reader x Gwilym Lee

wordcount: ~1.6k

warnings: 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving) , fingering, unprotected sex, swearing

a/n: I enjoyed writing this and I hope you like it too! (I had to make it a little bit fluffy; my soft little soul could never handle the pain of writing angst uwu, but I added a good measure of smut to balance it out!!)

It was 10:58pm, October 31st. You knew it was coming, right from the beginning of that night. It was Halloween, after all, the night where everything is destined to go wrong. What you hadn’t known was that the seemingly harmless teenagers grouped around the 24/7 corner shop were actually out for all your valuables. Which isn’t saying much, since all you had was an old Samsung phone and a pair of earphones stolen from your roommate, Gwilym.

They had jumped you, taking anything worth taking, which included the change left in your purse, Gwil’s earphones, and your credit card. The phone they just left, cracked in the gutter, beside you where you were left as one of them kicked you in the ankle. Left sprawling on the pavement, you heard them walk away, all laughs and mocking jeers. A string of profanity left your mouth as you grasped the cracked mess of glass lying at your side. It wouldn’t turn on. Hell, there wasn’t even a button left to turn it on with. You gritted your teeth as you got to your feet and prepared for the walk home. There was a lot more than just bruises.

You barely had the energy to screech ‘‘I’m home!’’ as you usually do after a night out. Not that it mattered, because Gwil was already passed out on the couch next to his girl of the week and the ‘night out’ in question had mostly consisted of yelling voices and the feel of gravel against your skin. With a sigh, you slipped off your clothes and snuggled in your sheets. You could clean the wounds tomorrow.

“Morning, y/n!” The familiar voice roused you from the pleasant depths of your dreams. You responded with a noncommittal grunt, turning over. Right now, your bed was the comfiest place in the world. “Hey! I said, morning, y/n!” A soft weight settled on your bed by your head. “Wakey wakey time!” Despite the cheesy greeting, you smiled and opened your eyes.

“Morning, Gwil. I’ll be up in a bit.”

“Finally!” grinned Gwilym. “Your breakfast is getting cold.” Gwil made you breakfast every morning, and in return, you made him his daily morning decaf coffee and his afternoon cup of tea. You winced as you slowly slid yourself off the bed, and Gwil was right at your side, asking if you were okay. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Got mugged last night, but they didn’t take anything so it’s all good.” You said this with a nonchalant smile plastered on your face, because you knew Gwilym would tease you about it if he knew that you’d been hurt. His reaction, however, was a surprise. He pulled you into his arms, planting a kiss on your forehead, eliciting a painful moan as he wrapped his arms tightly around the bruises on your back.

Now, you and Gwilym were just roommates. It was purely financial, and also, since you guys had known each other since you were 5, not as awkward as you might think. You got used to the books and guitar equipment scattered everywhere, and he got used to your albums, vintage magazines, and music playing at all hours of the day. You took it in turns to cook, even if both of you dreaded your days of the rota; you took it in turns to do laundry, even when it meant you would end up with mismatched socks and crumpled shirts.

The flat, with a practical kitchen, spacious living room, a tiny little bedroom, and two bathrooms, was perfect for your needs; it was cheap, comfortable, and you had your best friend as your roommate! You had an agreement: You shared the small double bed on most nights; if either of you had company, Gwilym insisted that you had to go at it on the couch. To be fair, he also abided by this rule. “Why, Gwil? The bed’s better for two people and it’s got loads more space.” But Gwil was persistent, saying he wanted to keep the bed for ‘someone special’. It was the cheesiest thing you had ever heard, but you stuck with it, because every time Gwil had a girl over (which was often) you got the double to yourself.

You got home from classes everyday at around 2pm, and since you were taking all the same things as Gwil, usually went out with him to the coffee shop on the corner for a drink. The two of you would talk about anything and everything, no boundaries. When you think back, you realise that you were much closer than any other friendships you had seen or even experienced, and of course, this led to a few spikes of jealousy whenever you woke up to find Gwil on the couch rather than by your side.

“Are you alright, y/n?” You nodded, still wrapped up in Gwilym’s arms. “Where does it hurt?”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Gwil. What are you doi-” He pressed his lips against yours, taking you completely and utterly by surprise. Your first instinct was to pull away, but as your body relaxed into the kiss you realised: you wanted this. You’d wanted him to kiss you for months, longing to lie under him on the couch. Before you knew it, Gwil pulled away, looking to the ceiling and rubbing his neck. “I’m sorry, y/n. I-” But you left him no time to apologise, pulling him by the neck towards you and burying him in your deep, hungry kiss. You felt his mouth open against you, and the kiss grew more passionate, as you moved to straddle his lap. “I didn’t know you wanted this too, Gwil. I would’ve done this much sooner.”

You decided to take a step back, and lay back on the bed, waiting to see what Gwil would do next. He crawled up and lay next to you, curled into your side, just like he did every single night. “I want you, y/n” he mumbled, probably hoping that you wouldn’t hear him.

“I love you, Gwil. Do you hear me? I want to do this with you. Right now.” He needed no further encouragement, pushing himself up onto his elbows to kiss you again. He lay over you, hands moving down towards your midriff. “Can I..?” You nodded, and he pulled up your nightgown. This was the most you’d ever shown to him; he slid his hands up your body to caress your breasts, one hand gently stroking a nipple while the other massaged the other tit.

A breathy moan escaped from your mouth as Gwil left a sloppy trail of kisses down your collar bone. He gently unhooked your cotton panties, sliding them off your legs. You lay completely bare before him, as he looked down at you with hooded eyes, a hand rubbing your inner thigh. The hand skimmed closer to your warm core, and you moved underneath him, trying to get him to touch you. He finally dragged a thumb over your clit, making you gasp. He traced one of his fingers over your folds, still rubbing circles on your clit. He pushed a finger in, and your body shivered with pleasure, forever wanting more.

“More, y/n?” you nodded again and he slipped his middle finger in. He began to thrust, fucking you with his fingers as you struggled to contain your moans. Gwil lowered his head, and with no warning, removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, savouring the way you tasted. You let out a long moan and held on the back of his head, bucking your hips as he ate you out, all the while his thumb still rubbing soft circles on your clit. “Please, Gwil, I’m gonna cum, want you inside of me, please,” and he drew away, unhooking his jeans to reveal his cock, straining the inside of his boxers. You swallowed: he was big. He pulled down his boxers and aligned himself with your entrance. “You ready, y/n?”

“Do it, Gwil.” He slowly pushed inside of you, cracking you wide open with his impossibly long shaft. He took you slowly, giving you time to adjust to the immense feeling of him inside of you. Gwilym cursed underneath his breath; your pussy was tight around him. Your fingers clutched bruises into his hips as he began to move, drawing moans from your lips. “Can I go f-faster? Fuck, y/n, you’re so tight,” Wordlessly, you nodded, and Gwilym gave you his first proper thrust, making you whimper from the hazy mix of pleasure and pain. He drew almost all the way out, then pushed back in again, hitting your g-spot, sending a wave of pleasure down your spine.

Over and over again, he thrusted, while you clawed the bedsheets, the release so close, the warmth inside of you building, the pleasure so intense it made both of you scream. You came around him, clenching your hips as he rode you out, spilling hot cum deep inside of you. You lay back with a sigh, drifting off to sleep, barely aware of Gwil cleaning you up with a damp cloth and lying beside you. “You see? I saved the bed for you, y/n.”

“Mhm,” was the only answer you could muster, before turning into his side and yawning. “Goodnight, my love,” was the last thing you heard, as sleep took you, to the feeling of Gwilym stroking your hair, one hand on your back, with the feeling that you were, for this moment, completely safe.

#halloqueenevent #halloqueen #gwilym lee #gwilym x reader #gwilym smut #gwilym fanfic #fluff #smut #halloqueen gift

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zenithlux · 4 years

Text

Cadence - CH 21

Catch up on the story here!

And the voice is so clear, time after time it keeps on Calling you, calling you on Don’t destroy what you see, your country to be Just keep building on the ground that’s been won

Father to Son - Queen

-----------

The first thing Vergil did was track down Nero.

Or, more accurately, he paced in front of Roxy’s apartment pondering what exactly he wanted to say to Nero.

It was midnight by the time they got home, and 12:15 when Vergil got Roxy to actually go to sleep and not wander around in an exhausted stupor. The drive back had been about an hour slower, but significantly more enjoyable. The two had managed to hold a near constant conversation about nearly everything they could think of. Even Vergil, who had tried to ignore the truth for who knows how long now, felt the shift in their relationship. Before, they were balancing that line between ‘casual friends’ and ‘something more’. Now, he was fairly certain they were plummeting right off to one side.

Neither had broached the subject, however, so in Vergil’s mind they were still falling into nowhere, destined to figure it out another time.

What they had discussed, however, was what Roxy dubbed the ‘Nero situation’.

It had taken Vergil much of the trip to bring up the matter, even though it had gnawed at his mind since the middle of their walk. He’d thought that meeting Roxy’s mother would provide more insight into Roxy herself. And while it most certainly had, he also got a rather uncomfortable view of himself. Roxy’s mother was exactly what he had almost become; a broken mind in a failing body. The difference was, she had gone to an assisted living home. He had tried to destroy the planet.

Easy comparison to make. Clearly.

So when he did finally ask what he’d been dreading since they left, he made certain it was during the only peaceful, silent moment they’d had during the entire trip. Because that was clearly the best way to discuss such an uncomfortable subject. “If your mother could come back, and if she wanted to, would you let her?”

Roxy had been silent at first, giving Vergil his first real taste of anxiety. But then, her response had surprised him. “Your situation with Nero is much different than mine with my mother.” And Vergil, knowing he’d been caught, had asked her to elaborate. “You want and are capable of rebuilding that relationship now,” she said. “I’m not sure my mother ever will be.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“But I don’t know what all is going on between you two,” She argued. “But let's say my mom was perfectly sane and everything could go back to normal… then..” She paused with a sigh. “I’d want an apology.”

“You think that would fix decades of mistakes?”

“Not on its own… but it would help.”

So there Vergil was, debating how to apologize for raising the Qliphoth tree, ripping Nero’s arm off, and abandoning him for over twenty years.

But just as he finally went to knock, the door swung open. Then, Vergil was met with a scowl from his fully dressed and not at all sleeping son. “How long are you going to stand out there?” Nero said as he rubbed at his blood shot eyes. “You’re lucky Nico’s not awake or she would’ve been terrified.”

Vergil blinked. “What?”

“The shadow under the door-frame,” Nero said. “Real fucking creepy if you don’t know who it is.”

“I… see.”

Nero stepped out and closed the door behind him. “Come on, old man. There’s a 24-hour coffee shop nearby.” Vergil glanced at the door of his apartment and heard Nero snort behind him. “If I can leave Nico by herself, you can leave Roxy with her dragon familiar for thirty-minutes.” He swung Red Queen onto his back as he wandered down the hallway. And after a moment, where Vergil just stared at the doorway wondering if he was doing the right thing, he followed after Nero with as much confidence as he could muster.

-----------

Dream Bean was a small, hidden away coffee shop that Vergil never would have found if he wasn’t explicitly looking for it. It was the only building open on the street with the front door tucked in an alleyway near the edge of the town’s limits. Even more surprising was the interior. While Vergil would never want to live in the place with its pale greens, blues, and numerous pictures of sunflowers scattered everywhere, he could imagine spending a work day or two with Roxy in one of the absurdly padded booths in the far back corner. The area was spacious and, after a quick order from the single barista, he quickly found himself at a two person table on the second floor looking over the empty street. By now, however, all the tension he’d felt had transferred to Nero who was now tapping his straw on the table.

“So,” Nero said before he cleared his throat and tried again. “What did you want to talk about?”

His hesitation was almost as quick as his recovery. “Maybe I was just checking on you.”

Nero snorted. “Nobody says that unless they actually had something to say.” The straw slipped from his fingers and shot across the room in a rather impressive display. Nero grimaced as he reached for a second one. “So spill it.”

This time, Vergil’s hesitation was both obvious and uncomfortable. His mouth went dry when he tried to speak. His mind went blank when he tried to rectify that, and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he realized that problem was the worst of them all. Nero stared at him, eyebrows raised. Vergil struggled to keep his gaze while chaos raged in his head. He glanced at the road, half-tempted to teleport away and forget all about it. But then he remembered Roxy’s mother… Roxy’s tears… her admission that things would never be the same between them.

And, moments after the drinks arrived and Nero dared to take a sip, Vergil said,“I wanted to apologize.”

Nero’s head shot to the side as he hacked up a majority of his coffee. “What?” He said as he glared at Vergil (how was that his fault?) and reached for the paper towels.

Vergil scowled. “Is it that big of a shock?”

“Yes!” Nero said. “You’ve never apologized for anything. At least...” Nero rubbed the back of his neck. “Not to me.”

Vergil looked away. “A mistake that I was hoping to rectify.”

“So the visit didn’t go as planned?”

An interesting leap to make, Vergil thought. “It went as expected.”

Nero whistled. “That rough huh?”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

“That’s fair.” Nero took a long sip of his coffee as Vergil finally turned his gaze to his - a small, black coffee that he’d ordered without really thinking - and waited. He’d hoped to seem like that “old father figure” that Nero was expecting, but he didn’t even like coffee. At least, not like this. Roxy’s coffee was alright, but she always had interesting flavors and extra cream. She’d joked with him once or twice that he seemed like a ‘black coffee only’ type of guy, but the bitterness brought up memories he’d rather forget.

“I want this to work, Nero.”

He said it without thinking, but didn’t bother trying to take it back. He wasn’t lying. Not in the slightest. He did want to make this work. For Nero… and for himself. He didn’t want to end up that estranged father who everyone felt uncomfortable around until he eventually disappeared again. And even now, after finally finding something (or someone) to fall back on should that happen, Vergil didn’t want that. He wanted these two lives of his to come together. To mean something. Roxy, Nero, and the rest of his family… all of their friends...

“Then it will.”

Vergil’s head jerked up in surprise. He didn’t miss the triumphant smile on Nero’s face before he managed to hide it with a sip of his drink. “I mean it,” Nero continued. “You’re obviously capable of making whatever you want to happen… happen. So…” He shrugged as he sat his cup down and crossed his arms. “Are you free a month from now?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“We’re holding a party for one of our foster kids,” Nero said. “A family gathering of sorts. Gonna have a massive barbecue, lots of games for the kids, some for the adults, and hopefully we just have a good time.” He swirled his drink a few times before he spoke again. “I know you’re probably still not comfortable around crowds, and I’m not expecting you to stay the whole time, but if you can make it for a little while… it would mean a lot.”

Vergil nodded. “I’ll look into it.”

“Don’t think you’ll have Yamato back by then?”

Vergil hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

“Well here’s hoping!” Nero said. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he asked, “how’s Roxy?”

“Sleeping at the moment,” Vergil said. “She’ll be alright.”

Nero nodded. “Feel free to bring her along. Kyrie’s been dying to meet her.” His face then turned a slight shade of red as he looked away. “Something about wanting to know who melted your heart.”

Vergil stared at him. “Melted… what?”

“Well she’s not wrong necessarily… right?” Nero asked. Vergil’s stare didn’t waiver. Nero chuckled awkwardly. “Well it doesn’t matter. Maybe I was reading it all wrong.”

After another long moment, Vergil sighed. “No… you weren’t.”

It was Nero’s turn to stare, and Vergil might have chuckled was he not busy trying to keep the embarrassment off his own cheeks. “So... you’re like a thing?”

“A what?” Vergil said.

“A couple.”

“... No.”

“No?” Nero asked.

“... Not yet.”

“Not yet!?”

Vergil glared at him. “It hasn’t come up.”

Nero looked like he was ready to faint. “Hasn’t come up!? You’re practically living together!”

“Only when you’re here.”

“Oh come on, V.”

Had Nero called him that since he’d come back? Had he called him anything really? Maybe ‘old man’ a few times, but never by a name. He’d always avoided it… as much as they tried to avoid each other. And a part of Vergil wondered if he should be more upset than he was. Instead, he was relieved. “V” meant Nero saw him as a friend. V meant he saw him as the same man that he’d gotten to know and not the demon that had almost messed everything up. And while Vergil was contemplating all of this, Nero kept going, oblivious. “I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this but you can’t keep her waiting.”

“Keep her… waiting?”

“If you like her,” Nero said slowly. “Then go for it.”

“I hadn’t planned to talk to you about that half of my life,” Vergil said.

“Well here we are.”

“Through no fault of my own.”

“You kind of brought it up.” Nero said.

“You’re remembering the conversation incorrectly.”

“Don’t you start.”

“Except I’m right,” Vergil replied.

“This is weird enough as it is.”

“How is it ‘weird’”

“I’m talking to my dad about his love life.”

“I already told you…” Vergil said, eyes narrowing.

Nero countered with his own narrowed gaze. “Just because you’re afraid of her doesn’t mean we’re not talking about it.”

“I am not afraid of her.”

“Prove it.”

“I will.”

Another moment of silence fell as they glared at each other. But when Nero burst into laughter, Vergil couldn’t help but smile. “Well would you look at that,” Nero said with a lazy grin as he snatched his cup up and propped his feet on the table. Vergil leaned back in his own seat, coffee long forgotten. “A somewhat normal, father-son argument.”

“Is it?”

Nero shook his head. “About as normal as this family’s going to get.”

Vergil couldn’t agree more with that.

Ko-fi – Master List – AO3

#zenni-writes #cadence #update #dmc #fan fic #vergil #nero #vergilxoc #vergilxroxy

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xfangheartx · 5 years

Text

Tender But Passionate

Something I decided to cook up, lately. This one was inspired by @keichanz‘s various kissing prompt fics, so I decided to try one myself instead of waiting for an ask.

The prompt for this one is:

9. one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other.

Also tagging @cstorm86 @inuyashaeienni and @shinidamachu because it has implied lemons. Hope you enjoy!

XXX

Kagome didn't know why she agreed to go to this party. The colorful lights hurt her eyes, the loud, thumping music gave her a headache, and worst of all, the smell of alcohol was in the air. She hated going to these kinds of things. She just wanted to spend a nice evening at home, watching TV and eating M&Ms, but Sango insisted she come along with her.

She supposed that was partly her fault. Sango was her best friend, after all. She couldn't really say no to her. Plus, Sango figured maybe she needed to get out and have some fun, for a while. She even brought her boyfriend, Miroku, along, not to mention his best friend.

As Kagome turned away from the snack table, she noticed him across the room, chatting with Miroku: a tall, imposing man with long, silvery-white locks that was tied up in a ponytail. He had on a red shirt with the words "BIG INU" in white letters, a pair of denim jeans that were torn at the knees, a pair of white Nike's shoes that were scuffed up and smudged, and a black leather jacket. His eyes were a bright golden yellow, and Kagome could see sharp fangs poking out from under his upper lip...not to mention those cute puppy ears at the top of his head.

Inuyasha Taisho was just so goddamn attractive. It was like staring at something out of a painting. Everything about him was gorgeous. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like, grabbing all that luscious hair...and feeling those hard biceps. God, it looked like if he even flexed them, his jacket would tear open...and that ass. She had never seen anything look so hard and chiseled.

Kagome swallowed as she looked back at her cup of fruit punch before she tilted her head back and drank, hoping it would cool down the heat that permeated in her belly. It seemed to have the desired effect for about 5 seconds...before she went right back to staring at the half-demon across the room.

This wasn't really the first time she found herself daydreaming about him. The first time she saw him was at a Starbucks a couple of weeks back. He drove up on a motorcycle that morning and shook his hair after pulling off his helmet. That day, he was wearing a pair of those typical fingerless gloves that bikers wore. He came and picked up an egg, ham, and bagel sandwich as well as a cup of coffee with about a teaspoon of sugar and hardly any cream.

Ever since then, she just couldn't stop thinking about him...and what's worse, she saw him more and more throughout those two weeks. Everywhere she went, it was like he had to be there, too. It was almost as if he was following her...not in that creepy stalker kind of way, of course. It frustrated her to no end...and she couldn't even begin to count how many times she found herself alone at home, pleasuring herself as she pictured him in her mind's eye. Hell, she'd even dream about him and the next morning, she'd wake up with wet panties.

But who was she kidding? There was no way Inuyasha would ever notice her. If he hadn't by now, what was the point?

She glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was 11:42 PM. She sighed before she put her empty cup in the trash and grabbed her purse. She wasn't really having much fun, so she decided it was time to tell Sango she wanted to go home...but first, she had to find her.

Just as Kagome was turning around to leave, she gasped as she suddenly bumps into the one hosting this party: Koga Ookami. He was wearing a white T-shirt, a brown coat with a faux fur collar and a pair of black jeans, as well as those brown pointy boots. He smirked at Kagome, his fangs glinting in the dark while he stared at her with deep blue eyes...which caused her to gulp as she backed away, slightly.

Kagome had known Koga for quite some time, now. He had been known to have quite a crush on her and there were times that they were on good terms with each other...but the only problem was Koga tended to be a bit overzealous. She had told him, time and time, again that she didn't really reciprocate his feelings, but alas, it seemed that whatever she told him just went right over his head. For some reason, though...she felt particularly uncomfortable around him, tonight.

"Where you goin', Kagome?" Koga asked her in a husky voice...and almost instantly, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Uh...hi, Koga," Kagome replied. "Look...these kind of parties aren't for me. I'm just gonna have Sango take me home." She attempted to walk past him...but she gasped as she felt his hand on her shoulder, and suddenly, she went from uncomfortable to downright "Oh, god, someone get me outta here!".

"What's your hurry?" asked Koga. "It's not even midnight, yet...the night's still young, Kagome."

"Koga, please, I-I just wanna go home, okay?" Kagome asked, trying her damnedest not to panic. "Please, let me go."

"I don't even get a kiss goodbye?" Koga asked as he leaned closer toward her with puckered lips, but Kagome grunted as she tried to push him back. Unfortunately, even though he was intoxicated, he only responded by grabbing her wrists and pushed back with more force than she could muster. Kagome gasped as she struggled against him, trying over and over to get him to stop, but he wouldn't relent.

The next thing that happened, Kagome could've sworn it was like something out of one of her favorite romance novels. She was suddenly pulled out of Koga's grasp, and all she could see was black leather, and then there was the loud smack of a fist bashing against someone's jawbone, and the next thing she knew, Koga was lying on the destroyed snack table, chips, pretzels, and drinks spilled everywhere...especially on him.

Kagome's eyes widened before she looked up to see her knight in shining armor: Inuyasha seething through his fangs as he glared at Koga, who groaned as he tried to stand up, but then, Inuyasha grabbed him by the collar of his coat and forced him up to his feet, his amber eyes taking on a deadly glow.

"You listen here, asshole," he snarled. "Don't you EVER fucking touch her, again! You hear me?! When a girl says no, she means no! Now piss off!!" He then threw Koga back against the table. Onlookers stared with gaping mouths and wide eyes, but upon seeing Inuyasha's bitter glare, they quickly backed away. Soon, he turned to face Kagome, whose chocolate eyes met his amber ones...and though she tried so hard, she could only whimper as her eyes started to well up with tears. Before she knew it, she was suddenly pulled into his arms and she found herself fisting his shirt in her hands, her sobs muffled as she buried her face in his chest. His eyes softened and he squeezed her tightly, rubbing small circles on her back.

"It's okay, baby..." he whispered. "It's all right..."

Kagome sniffled, but she didn't dare pull away.

"You wanna go home, don't you?"

She furiously nodded her head.

"Okay...come on, I'll take you home."

Soon, he had his arm around her shoulder and they walked to the door. As they did, Sango suddenly ran up to them.

"Kagome!" she cried. "What happened, are you all right?! I can't believe Koga did that!"

"I'm just gonna go home, Sango, okay?" asked Kagome.

"Kagome, I'm so sorry," Sango said as she put her hand on her shoulder. "I never should've made you come here!"

"It's fine, Sango," Kagome assured. "I...I'm not mad at you. I...I just wanna go home and have a bath and...go to bed and forget this night ever happened."

"...Okay..." Sango nodded before she looked at Inuyasha, who nodded his head at her before he opened the door and walked out with Kagome.

XXX

The drive home was quiet. Kagome didn't say a single word and Inuyasha didn't speak, either. She looked down at her hands and she saw that she was still shaking.

Soon, Inuyasha pulled up in front of the apartment building she lived in. He got out, first, then circled around the front and opened the passenger door, allowing her to step out. Her eyes were cast to the ground before she glanced up at Inuyasha, who gave her a small, gentle smile, which caused her to smile back...briefly, before she frowned, again.

"...Thank you," she said.

"It's no problem," Inuyasha replied as they walked to the gate, which Kagome opened with a key card before they both walked in, up the stairs, and in front of her apartment door, which she unlocked before she prepared to head inside.

"What a night, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll say," Inuyasha said. "Listen...I'm sorry about what Koga did."

"What are you apologizing for?" asked Kagome. "You're the one who saved me."

"Yeah, but still," Inuyasha began, "you shouldn't have had to go through that. I saw him, last night, eyeballing you all night like you were a piece of fresh meat and it took everything I had not to punch him out for ogling at you like that and...when he finally grabbed you, I...I couldn't take it anymore and I knew I had to do something."

Kagome smiled as she twirled a finger in her raven locks.

"Well...I'm glad you did," she said, causing him to chuckle a bit.

"Err...yeah," he muttered as he scratched the back of his head...but then his eyes met hers again. She sighed softly as she stared at those smoldering golden orbs of his...the way they glowed in the dark, gentle yet somewhat fiery...it made her heart skip.

She blinked up at him, her hand over her chest and her lips parted slightly. He raised his hand, clawed fingertips delicately touching her cheek as he lightly tilted her head up. He lowered his head down...and soon, their lips touched. Kagome closed her eyes and tensed her shoulders, moaning softly in his mouth. She could feel his chest rumble as she pressed her hands up against it while he slowly wrapped his arms around hers.

All too soon, they pulled away from each other...but then, as their eyes grew wide, they suddenly found themselves kissing again, only this time, it was much forceful...more passionate. Kagome panted as she felt Inuyasha's breath, hot and moist inside her mouth as his tongue curled and rolled about in hers. He pressed his hips up against her, and she grunted as she tried her damnedest not to moan so loudly when she felt his hard cock up against her womanhood. She found her fingers entangled in his hair as she straddled him, causing him to let out a heady growl as he licked the roof of her mouth.

He soon pulled away and began to nip at the base of her jaw, causing her to moan as she fisted the back of his jacket, which she began to furiously pull off and then threw down on the floor...and he began to do the same to her shirt, which he vigorously unbuttoned and tossed to the floor with his jacket...and then his shirt went next, and as they stumbled to her bedroom, her bra followed, and then his jeans...and then her panties...and the final thing that was discarded was his boxers and their socks and shoes as Kagome shut her bedroom door.

XXX

It was at 8 in the morning when Kagome's alarm clock went off, causing her to groan as she reached her finger over and pressed the snooze button...but as she shifted, she found herself staring at the sleeping face of Inuyasha. Her eyes shot wide open, at first preparing to scream...until she remembered what had transpired last night before she gave a quiet, relieved sigh and lied back down. Both of them were as bare as the day there were born with nothing to cover them but the bedsheets, which really only covered their lower halves.

God, she didn't believe how much stamina he had. How long had they had been going at it? Until 3...maybe 4 in the morning?

Before she could contemplate on it further, he suddenly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his nose buried in her hair as he took in a deep inhale, drinking in her intoxicatingly sweet scent, and the ticklish feeling made her bite her lap in an attempt to keep herself from giggling.

"Good morning..." she whispered.

"Hey, baby," he whispered back as he kissed her forehead.

"Last night was so much fun..."

"Yeah, it was...you know...I know you were staring at me at the party."

Kagome's eyes widened and her face turned all shades of red.

"Y...you knew?" she asked.

"Yeah, I knew," Inuyasha replied as he propped his hand up under his chin with a cocky little grin on his face that made him look so adorable. "And you wanna know what else? I was staring at you, too...and even when I saw you at Starbucks, I was staring...and I was thinking about you so much that I ended up having to go to my house and fucked myself off until my arm was about to fall right off my shoulder." He then pressed his head up against hers, causing her to giggle a little. "And I'm willing to bet...that you were doing the same thing while you thought about me...didn't you?"

"...Maybe," Kagome replied with a cocky grin that mimicked his own, which caused him to chortle before he kissed her on the lips again, just for a moment before she pulled away. "So...I guess this means we're going out, now?"

"...Only if you want us to," Inuyasha replied.

"...Yes, please," Kagome smiled, warmly and lovingly.

"Then we're going out," Inuyasha said, causing her to laugh as he pulled her into his embrace, once more.

#inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha au #inuyasha x kagome #inukag #slight n s f w

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tommyparkerr · 5 years

Text

Promises Part Two | Peter Parker x Reader

Sorry guys! I meant to update a bit earlier, but this past week has been crazy! Either way, I hope you enjoy Part Two! And once again, a big thank you to Soph for her help!:)

Note: I tried to space the paragraphs out some more for all you mobile users that got the new update (including me) so it’d make it easier to read. Let me know if it’s better or worse? I went back and did it to Part One as well.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst, crying :)

-Masterlist-

P A R T T W O :

Things between you and Peter had never been more tense. You hated it.

You never did talk the next morning, nor the morning after that, nor the morning after that, nor the morning after that...

Peter was temporarily staying at Avengers Tower while you claimed stake to the apartment. Even though the walls weren’t exactly soundproof here and the New York City traffic consistently found its way in through the windows, it was too quiet—too dead. Usually Peter would be cooking or doing the laundry or washing the dishes, soft music playing in the background as he finished up and asked you to dance. The curtains would be drawn back, allowing the sun to light your apartment rather than the electricity. It would be comfortably warm, the natural breeze doing your air conditioner’s job. And Peter would be humming along, both of your faces adorning laughter and bright smiles that resulted from Peter playfully dipping you.

Instead your apartment was dark, dreary, and miserably cold. Though, the temperature could very well be because you were so used to Peter’s warmth that going without it now added an extra chill to the place. It didn’t feel right being there—living there—without him. But it also didn’t feel right to ask him to come home with so many things left unsaid. You were afraid asking him home would only make the both of you more miserable, and you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were.

Which was why you’d asked to meet him in a neutral location. A café—one you’d never been to in your life and that was bound to have no memories attached to it that would make this harder than it had to be.

You’d tried your best to look presentable, but making sure to eat and drink had been about the only things you had enough energy for lately. It was funny how heartbreak exhausted you, made you numb enough to forget the basics. But you had remembered to take a shower and brush your teeth this morning, and that was a victory in itself.

The brown liquid in front of you gently swirled, the scent wafting up and into your nostrils making your stomach turn. You didn’t know why you ordered coffee. You hated coffee.

But perhaps you’d forgotten that as well.

“Hey.”

Your eyes snapped up, seeing your husband for the first time in days. He didn’t look much better off than you. His normal sparkling brown eyes were now dull, the bags underneath making them look even more pitiful. His hands were shaking—just slightly, but you were trained to notice the small things, such as the lack of color to his skin and the chap of his lips. He looked like he’d lost weight as well; he’d probably forgotten to eat, or, at the very least, eat what his body required of him.

“Hey,” you said with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Peter eyed your drink.

“Is that...coffee?”

You fought the urge to blush. “I, uh, thought I’d try it again. Just in case my taste buds changed, you know.” His questioning look prompted you to go on. “They didn’t. I hate coffee.”

Peter smiled a small smile. It looked sad—like he knew you were lying but wasn’t going to point it out. “I know,” he settled on saying, making your heart ache. Of course he knew. He knew everything about you. “I’ll go get you some tea,” he eventually murmured, breaking the silence.

“You don’t have to-“

But he was already gone, traversing to the back of the line where only a few people waited in front of him. You sighed, fighting back tears. Is that how it was going to be now? Was this what your relationship had come to? After all these years?

The rational part of you reminded you that you had yet to talk anything out, that that was what this meeting was for, that you still had ice to break before you could start treading the freezing waters below. But there was a larger part of you that drowned that rationality out with the fears that plagued you every night and day.

“Here,” Peter said, sliding a hot cup of tea and blueberry scone in front of you. Your eyes pricked with tears at the scone; of course he got you your favorite. He was too good not to.

Peter took your coffee from you and drank slow sips from it. It was obvious he was waiting on you, but he didn’t push you to say anything. When you spoke it’d be on your own accord.

You began to nibble at the scone, not feeling very hungry but knowing you needed to eat regardless. You offered a piece to Peter who looked hesitant, then recognized it was a peace offering of sorts and took it.

The silence droned on, and you knew he expected you to be the one to start up conversation, but you couldn’t bring your mouth to open. You weren’t ready to dig out the demons yet, to bring them to light. You didn’t want him to know how much his actions had affected you, even though it was plainly visible in your appearance. There were times late at night when you wondered if you were overreacting, but then you’d remember just how badly he’d hurt you and knew you were doing what was right for you. This hurt, yes, but there were only so many things you could sweep under the rug. And, besides, this wasn’t permanent—this was only temporary.

At least, you hoped.

Your hands shook. You tried to cover it up by taking a sip of tea but your plan backfired when the liquid sloshed over the side, spilling onto your fingers. You hissed at the burn catching Peter’s attention, and he immediately grabbed a napkin to give to you. His eyes were wide with concern, making yours water up.

“Y/N-“

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though the crack in your voice said otherwise. You looked down and dabbed at the scalding tea on your skin, biting your lip at the sting it left behind. Tears started to fall.

“Let me look at it,” Peter pleaded, staring at the abnormal redness on your fingers. Without waiting for a response he pulled your hand across the table and turned it over, carefully tracing the splotches of red. “Does it hurt?”

At your silence he looked up, finally seeing your tears. Concern quickly turned into panic.

“Yes,” you choked out, and from the look on Peter’s face you knew that he was aware you weren’t talking about your fingers. “It hurts so bad and I don’t know how to fix it,” you quietly cried. “I don’t- I can’t-“

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter said calmly, expertly sliding out of his side of the booth and into yours. His arms wrapped around you, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder. You slid your hands under his jacket and around his waist, letting your tears soak his shirt. He swallowed, probably just as prepared to cry as you but not allowing his tears to fall; one of you had to keep it together for the sake of the other, and you were extremely grateful Peter was volunteering to take that role on this morning. “We’ll fix it, Y/N. I promise we’ll fix this.”

“How?” you croaked, your voice muffled by his clothes.

“Together,” he said confidently. “We’ll do this together, just like we always do.”

You sniffled, hugging him tighter. He responded, pulling you close enough to feel the warmth you’d been longing for. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he whispered, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I promise.”

---

Coffee had become a part of your daily routine now. Only part of a cup, but it was still there nonetheless. It seemed to be the only thing that woke you up enough to make it through the day. Energy drinks you supposed could work too but they had always had negative effects on you, and you knew that now would be a worse time than ever to try them again. And while you still hated coffee, you didn’t hate the extra boost of caffeine it gave you.

Nightmares had been plaguing your dreams, waking you at least once a night if not more. You so badly wanted to call into work sick, but you’d just taken a week off for vacation and knew you couldn’t miss again so soon—not unless you didn’t want to keep your job. So coffee had been the only solution, the caffeine intake in tea not being enough to keep you from sleepwalking through the day.

You wondered what Peter would say about your new obsession if he knew. He probably wouldn’t say anything much—maybe a playful comment or two. He’d most likely just smirk at you from his own cup of coffee, his eyes alight with mischief. But he’d brew an extra cup each morning anyways, making sure it was ready by the time you walked into the kitchen, hair still frizzy from sleep and T-shirt hanging lazily off your shoulder. He’d tell you good morning and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, handing you your cup only after you responded with an unhappy but grateful ‘good morning’ as well.

You stopped yourself there, shaking your head to rid the image. Because the truth was that if Peter was here, actually here, then you wouldn’t be drinking coffee at all. If he was here he’d be there to hold you through the nightmares that somehow made themselves less frequent when he was around. If he was here he’d ensure you were both in bed by nine o’clock on nights neither of you were working, knowing you required extra sleep. Sometimes if you were both wide awake you’d talk about nothing and everything until eventually your voices faded and all that was left was your gentle breathing. If he was here.

But he wasn’t. He was on the other side of the city in a room tens of floors higher than yours, surrounded by handfuls of people yet feeling just as alone as you were.

No, Peter wasn’t here. But his memory was everywhere, leaving you to wonder if this was what it’d be like if his absence turned permanent instead of temporary—that instead of being just a few miles away, he’d be in a place that even the mightiest of superheroes couldn’t reach.

You prayed you’d never find out.

---

“Peter!” you cried out as you snapped awake, your hand immediately flying to the other side of the bed in search of the curly haired arachnid. You caught yourself a moment later, snatching back your hand as if the empty sheets had burned you.

Nine days.

Nine days you’d woken from a nightmare and subconsciously looked for your husband. Nine days you’d searched for Peter in the middle of the night only to remember moments later that he wasn’t there. Nine days it’d shattered your heart. Nine days it hurt just as badly as the one before. Nine days it’d been since you’d gotten a full night’s rest.

Not bothering to try to hold back the tears, you got up out of bed and threw on one of Peter’s hoodies to keep you company. However, even that didn’t seem to help anymore; his scent was growing fainter by the day and it was so diluted now that it no longer comforted you when you slipped it on. But you still put it on each night in the hopes that something would change, much like how your hand reached to the other side of the bed after every nightmare and found nothing, yet continued to do it anyway.

You numbly traipsed into the kitchen, starting up the kettle and robotically preparing the cup of tea you’d had to make yourself each night since...well, since Peter had been gone.

Nine days.

You leaned over the counter and placed your head in your hands, letting a rack of sobs escape you. You didn’t know how much longer you could take this, but you were afraid that once you sat down and attempted to work things out Peter would leave you forever, and you’d much prefer be in the place you were now in your relationship rather than not in one at all.

“Y/N?” a soft, tired voice croaked, sounding as if it hadn’t been used in days. Either that, or used too much.

Your cries came to a stop but you didn’t move an inch. Neither of you spoke for awhile, not even when the kettle started whistling. Eventually you straightened up and turned the burner off, listening as the high-pitched squeal slowly became less and less obnoxious until it had disappeared completely.

“Would you like a cup?” you quietly asked, your voice raw from the many tears you’ve shed.

“What is it?” Peter hesitantly questioned.

“Tea—chamomile.”

“Yes, please.”

So you grabbed two cups instead of one, calmly choosing to ignore the elephant in the room as you poured a generous amount of steaming water in each. From there you put the tea bags in, watching them as they steeped.

“Y/N-“

“Not now, Pete,” you interrupted tiredly, knowing where his mouth was going to take him next. “Please not now.”

He kept quiet.

When the tea was finally done you picked up the cups and carefully handed one to Peter before going to the dining room table and plopping yourself down on a chair. He followed, sitting in the spot next to you. You quietly busied yourselves with your tea until there was none left, cueing the inevitable conversation.

You cleared your throat. “How did you get in?”

“I still have a key,” Peter answered, sounding slightly hurt but not surprised. “I guess I assumed I could still use it.”

“You can,” you quickly responded, realizing that that had sounded like a much better question in your head. Way to break the ice, Y/N. “I mean, just because you aren’t currently living here doesn’t mean it’s not still your home.”

You looked up for the first time, seeing Peter silently nod as he stared down at his empty tea cup, lost. Your heart fissured at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes—he’d been crying, too.

Before you could think about it your hand was on top of Peter’s, your thumb slowly running across his knuckles in what could only be described as an attempt at comfort. It was so difficult to see him like this—so vulnerable and beaten down—and right at that very moment you decided you no longer cared about ‘breaking the ice’.

“Why did you come here, Peter?” you whispered past the lump in your throat.

His lip wobbled. “I-I can’t close my eyes without dreaming bad things. It’s making me go insane. You’re the only one that helps, but you’re not there. You’re never there, and I know why you can’t be, but I can’t take being alone anymore and I just—I just—” He paused, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. Finally looking up at you, his eyes equally pleading and hopeful and afraid, he confessed, “I just need you.”

After that his shoulders began to shake and his eyes squeezed shut, obviously not wanting to see the rejection in your face. But, if only he looked, he’d see that there was nothing but pain and longing and understanding there.

You flew up out of your chair and stood in front of Peter, bringing his head to rest on your stomach as your hands rubbed his back and ran through his tangled curls. He wrapped his arms around you tight, bringing you closer to him as he cried.

“I miss you,” he sobbed, his voice muffled by your clothing yet completely clear to you.

You held back your own tears now. Peter had already taken his turn being the strong one; it was time for you to return the favor. “We’ll fix this,” you said much more confidently than you felt. “Just like you said, Pete.”

He spent another few minutes holding you close as he soaked your shirt—well, technically it was his shirt—with his tears. He said something again, this time so muffled that you couldn’t hear him at all.

“You’re gonna have to speak up a bit, baby,” you said soothingly, realizing your term of endearment too late.

But Peter didn’t bring it up. He simply moved his head just enough to free his mouth and repeated in a quiet, careful tone, “You promise?”

Your heart thumped extra hard then skipped a couple beats as you answered without hesitation. “I promise.”

He started to calm down after that, his sniffles being the only sound in the sad, sad apartment. You leaned down to kiss his forehead, brushing back his hair as you did so.

“Do you get them too?” Peter whispered in the silence.

“Get what?” you asked, though you had a good idea of what he was referring to.

“Nightmares?”

You swallowed, pushing down the temptation to lie. Nightmares were for children, not adults like you. Yet here you were ten years later, having the worst nightmares you’d had in your entire life: nightmares about Peter dying, nightmares about Peter leaving, nightmares about Peter telling you this was all your fault, nightmares about Peter finding someone better to take your place, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

“Every night,” you breathed.

Peter’s breath caught as he pulled away from your embrace and looked you in the eye. “They’re never as bad when I’m with you,” he said plainly—obviously.

“And mine are never as bad when you’re with me,” you admitted. You both seemed to come to the same conclusion in that moment. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” you spoke up quietly, and you could practically see the relief flashing through Peter’s eyes.

He nodded, taking your hand and walking with you back to the bedroom. Neither of you spoke as you crawled into bed and snuggled close to one another, soaking up the warmth you’d been so desperately craving. Peter wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, holding you as tight as he possibly could without breaking you. You dipped your head into the crook of his neck and placed a hand over his heart, allowing your mind to finally take a break at the feel of its steady beating.

“I still love you more than anything,” you murmured, feeling as if it needed to be said.

“And I swear I still love you more,” Peter responded with a kiss to your head, making you smile for the first time in a long time.

You allowed some hope to come back now. The hope that maybe not all was lost—that this relationship could still be salvaged. And the hope that, more than anything, you’d be able to forge something better out of it.

You promise?

Peter’s eyes fluttered shut and his breaths were evening out, his heart rate slowing with them. Your eyes closed too, your heart beating to match Peter’s.

I promise.

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