#got a taxi just to make some people happy

[ephemeriee]

supreme winner of nights out

#got 2 dumb prizes #got a taxi just to make some people happy #i am however great at drunk walking home #ephemeriee.txt

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Touch Tank

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)

Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao

Genre: fluff, smut

Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.

He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie

***

You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.

"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.

"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.

"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.

"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.

"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"

"Aw we're gonna miss you!"

"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.

"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"

"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.

"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.

"I see."

"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.

"What?" He scoffs.

"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.

"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.

"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.

"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.

"Do you want them now or at a later date?"

"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."

"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.

"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.

"Yes but only a little one."

"A little one?"

"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.

"Why?"

"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.

"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.

"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."

"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.

"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.

"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.

"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.

You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.

*~*~*

"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.

"What?" He rolls his eyes.

"Are you busy?" You ask.

"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.

"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"

"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.

"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.

"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"

"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.

"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.

"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.

"How short is short notice?"

"We need to be there in forty minutes."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.

"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.

"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.

"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"

"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.

"Ready Lo?" You ask.

"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.

"What?"

"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"

"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.

"And how is that going?"

"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.

"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.

"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.

"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.

"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.

"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 

"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"

"Sure." He nods.

"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.

"They have more open tanks of creatures?"

"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.

"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"

"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.

"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.

"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.

"You bribed me."

"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."

"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."

"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.

"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.

~*~*~

You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.

"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.

"It's 3pm y/n."

"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.

"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."

"You've been coming here a lot lately."

"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"

"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."

"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.

"Very funny." Loki scoffs.

"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.

"Must you be so-"

"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"

"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.

"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.

"Are you trying to get under my skin?"

"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."

"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.

"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because you always do."

"Do what?"

"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.

"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.

"Mother." He gets her attention.

"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."

"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.

"What troubles you my dear son?"

"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.

"A woman? Do you feel for her?"

"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.

"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"

"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.

"Have you considered that you feel for her?"

"How would I know?"

"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"

"She lives here so yes." He nods.

"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.

"What?"

"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."

"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."

"What do you mean?"

"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."

"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.

"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.

"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.

"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"

"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."

"What makes you think that?"

"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."

"I resent that notion." He scoffs.

"What made you contact me?"

"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.

"She was with you Loki?"

"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."

"What did she say?" Frigga asks.

"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."

"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"

"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.

"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"

"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."

"Tell me about her."

"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"

"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.

"Why are you smiling like that."

"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."

"My heart is very much still-"

"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."

"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.

"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."

"You keep saying that-"

"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."

"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.

"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.

"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.

"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."

"What if she is not waiting?"

"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."

"I do not get in my own way."

"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.

"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.

"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."

"Of course mother. Take care."

"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.

*~*~*

When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.

"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.

"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.

"You're sitting on the couch?"

"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.

"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."

"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.

"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."

"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."

"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Of course not." You hum.

"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."

"Well don't let me bother you then."

"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."

"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.

"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."

"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.

~*~*~

"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.

"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.

"You know our coffee shop?"

"Around the block?"

"Yep!" She nods.

"What of it?"

"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."

"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.

"Cassie told me."

"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.

"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.

"I'm eating a sandwich-"

"Not right now, tomorrow morning."

"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.

"It's Elliot."

"Oh he's cute-"

"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.

"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.

"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.

"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.

"Hello." He mutters.

"What brings you out of hiding today?"

"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."

"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.

"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.

"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"

"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.

"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.

"No, I don't."

"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."

"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.

"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."

"You said I look constipated!"

"Well you do! But only a little bit!"

"This is not going at all how I planned it?"

"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.

"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."

"Easier to do what?"

"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.

"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."

"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.

"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.

"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.

"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.

"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.

"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."

"I am far from incapable." He says.

"So spill it." You push.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're not who I thought you were."

"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.

"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"

"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.

"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.

"You." He whispers.

"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.

"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.

"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.

"If I'm lucky."

"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."

"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.

"No? It sounds like it."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"

"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."

"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.

"Is that what you want?"

"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.

"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."

"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."

"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.

"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.

"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.

"Yes was I not clear about-"

"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.

"You vex me." He breathes out.

"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."

"Don't boast."

"How can I not?" You ask.

"I can think of a few ways to stop you."

"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.

"How's that for sway?" He smirks.

"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.

"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.

"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.

"What do you mean?" He frowns.

"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.

"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"

"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"

"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."

"Precisely."

"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."

"Do you not like gentle?"

"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.

"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.

"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.

"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.

"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.

"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.

"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.

"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.

"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.

"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.

"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.

"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.

"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.

"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.

"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."

Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.

"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.

"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.

"Well what is?" You ask.

"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.

"How am I the tricky one here?"

"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."

"What fox? Are you the fox?"

"Mhm." He nods.

"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.

"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki smut

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Darlin’, Darlin’

Pairing(s): Jacob Black x Swan!Reader, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan

Warnings: wolf imprinting, scenting, makeout, agedup!jacob, hurt&comfort, one night stands, changed it a little bit from the prompt, renee being a crap mom, sorry i tend to write her in a negative light but i have never been able to stand her character 😅, plus i have my own unresolved mommy issues lol 😅 , mention of alcohol consumption, reader smokes, unprotected sex just imagine reader being on birth control, flings, virgin!jacob, losing that v card, kinda bitchy reader?

Words: 4818

Stepping one foot out of your taxi, you finally take in the sight of the Cullen residence. Just to make sure, you double check the address that was on the wedding invitation.

Yup, this was the place.

Already there's festive laughter streaming out of the house. Some people lingered on the large wrap-around porch, talking amongst one another.

You weren't looking forward to the wedding but your mother called and pestered you enough to where you just gave up and sent in your RSVP despite your reservations. It wasn't that you didn't like Bella, you just never liked the idea of marriage. Your mom had failed at several before. In the end you always wondered what the point of it all was.

And a wedding in your mind was the most absurd thing to waste one's money on. Especially one as extravagant as this one. You surmise that the Cullens obviously were the ones to foot the wedding bill. Neither Charlie nor Renee would have the funds to put together a glittery wonderland like this one.

Readjusting the skirt of your dress, you walk up the steps, bombarded by the loud music and chatter. You were already regretting going through with it when you weave through the throng of people in the house. Unfamiliar faces that stare at you in your trek to find Renee. Though really you just wanted to fist a few drinks into you first. Your mom wouldn't be happy if you got drunk so early. It would definitely lighten your mood, but you shake off any thoughts of libations.

After asking around, you learn she's upstairs helping the bride get ready.

Fine paintings were displayed on the wall as you take one step at a time. They look to be originals too. Not that you knew much about art. The paintings were beautiful regardless. Everything about the Cullen house was meticulously perfect. A wonder how your clumsy sister was marrying into this atmosphere.

You follow a gaggle of female voices to a closed bedroom door. When you knock, a short pixie of a girl opens it with startling gold eyes. "You must be Bella's sister!" She's open and inviting, tugging you by the arm inside of the room.

Renee calls over to you, delighted at your presence. "You made it!" She throws her arms around you, suffocating your nose with her strong perfume. Like with most of your family, you were never close to Renee. The moment you were accepted into a university away from her, you leapt on the opportunity and never looked back.

She steers you to where Bella is standing in front of a floor length mirror that reflects her image. Her wedding gown was sleek and not as terrible as you first imagined it to be. When was the last time you'd seen her? Probably not since your own senior year in Arizona.

Her dark eyes round at your appearance, definitely not expecting you to be there.

"Hey Bella. Congratulations." Your lips quirk up in a small smile that hides your desire to not be there. This is what you had to do in front of your family. Put on a mask and pretend you were happy to see them. You felt awkward in that room, knowing your interaction was being watched by the pixie girl, your mom and an unknown blonde woman who was drop dead gorgeous.

Her thin lips part in a struggle to gather any useful words. "Th-Thanks." It was clear she didn't really know how to act around you either.

You shoot an anxious look to your mom as if to say 'See, I did what you wanted me to do now let me free.' Ridiculous how you still looked to her for any guidance even though she would offer you none. Renee merely sighs and nods her head toward the door.

Relief makes the warmth in your face cool down as you give Bella an awkward wave goodbye before hightailing it out and back down the stairs. The rest of the house was no better. Your claustrophobia starting to get the best of you as you desperately try to elbow your way to the backyard for some fresh air. It was so stuffy in there. The lack of fresh air flow was really starting to get to you.

That's when you bump into someone- well honestly you thought it was a wall by how sturdy and hard the person's body was. Wobbling backwards, you're grateful that at least the body you bumped into had faster reflexes than you. A large, tan hand grips at your wrist to pull you back up and stabilize your posture.

You stare up into a handsome face with penetrating dark eyes. His jaw slackens, whatever he was going to say. Pure shock ripples across his face.

"S-sorry about that." You apologize and brush off his hand, or at least try to. His grip on your wrist is incredibly strong. Furrowing your brows you look back up to him. "Um, excuse me. . ."

He blinks, snapping himself out of whatever stupor he'd been in. "Sorry. Sorry." His fingers reluctantly release your wrist, hovering over your skin until you pull your hand back to your chest. Cute and towering over you, you feel the anxiousness in your chest from the crowd subside. He doesn't move. Instead he introduces himself with a shallow breath. "I'm Jacob Black."

"Oh, Jacob Black. That name sounds familiar." You reply and give him your own name.

"You're Bella's sister." Jacob states but his voice still held a bit of confusion.

You awkwardly chuckle. "Yeah, that's me." The intense way he's looking at you has you slightly uneasy. "How do you know Bella?"

"We. . ." he clears his throat, finally averting his gaze from you. "We're friends. I live on the reservation. Charlie and my dad are best friends."

Trying to remember your childhood with Charlie, nothing comes up. When your parents split, initially you lived with him. But being a small kid alone at night while he was working wasn't really ideal. After a while it was decided that you should be with Renee and Bella. It must have seemed like the best option. Honestly you were screwed with either parent.

"Since you've been in the loop," from your peripheral you notice a waiter carrying around a tray of drinks (thank god they were serving alcohol before the ceremony) "what is Bella's fiancee like?"

That sours his face. Jacob doesn't bother to try and hide his dislike for this guy that was marrying your sister. His lips squirm but he couldn't conjure any positive words. "He's. . . well, I don't trust him."

"Why? Does he mistreat her?"

"Well-"

"Oh!" You smile when you connect the dots. "You like Bella, don't you?"

He's slightly loud now. "No!! No, I-I don't like her. I mean, I did, but not anymore, obviously."

Was it obvious though? The way he was yammering on made it all too obvious that he still had feelings for her. You watch him suffer, occasionally taking a sip of your champagne. When he winds himself out, he mutters one more apology. Jacob's face a beet red. You just chuckle.

"No need to apologize. Guess it was my bad. I don't know much about Bella. We've never been close. I was just curious."

Around you, the flow of guests was starting to congregate to the backyard. "I think it's time." You take one more sip and set aside your champagne flute.

At the reception, you again find yourself outside on the front porch. Her husband (and his family) were quite honestly the most beautiful people you'd ever set your gaze on. And they seemed to genuinely love Bella. You just hope that her marriage lasts longer than any of Renee's.

Next to you on the front step was another cocktail. Your fingers were occupied with holding up your cigarette. Watching the slow dance of the smoke curling upward. It was a beautiful evening, you'd give them that.

Having said hello to Charlie a few minutes ago, all of your duties here were over. You'd stay in the little rinky dink motel that Forks has tonight then head back to your actual home.

Snuffing out the stubby remnants of your cigarette, you toss back the rest of your drink and fish your phone out of your jacket pocket.

You're about to call a taxi before you hear the creaking of the porch's floorboards behind you. Twisting around to see Jacob Black leaning against the wooden column. "Heading out so soon?"

All honesty, he was cute. A year or two younger than you, Jacob was like a giant in comparison to Bella's now husband. More muscular too.

"Yeah. I have to go back to work the day after tomorrow." You won't tell him just how eager you were to return even if that meant you had to work. Anything was better than be surrounded by strangers. "I have a motel room for the night though. Gonna call a taxi."

"I can give you a ride, if you want. It'll probably take a taxi time to get up here." Jacob looks down the narrow, winding road that was the only one to lead up to the Cullen estate.

"Really?"

There's a ripple of relief in his gaze and the spreading of his smile. "Of course. You wanna go now?"

Arching a brow, you look around him to the front door where inside was the warmth of celebration. "You don't want to stay?"

His nose scrunches up. "Nah. There's nothing left for me in there."

Weird way to put it but you shrug it off and follow Jacob to a little red Volkswagen car that, while being on the older side of vehicles, appeared to be well maintained. Definitely didn't match any of the other fancy looking cars lining the Cullen's driveway. You're surprised they didn't hire a valet.

Pure magic the way Jacob maneuvers his car around all of the others without hitting any of them. Watching it made you nervous so you'd squeezed your eyes tight, listening to Jacob chuckle.

A good thing about Forks was that it wasn't a big town. And the motel was the only local one in the town.

"I appreciate this. Can I give you money for gas?" You lean back into the worn cushions of the seat.

"Don't worry about it." He just waves you off. The lightness in his voice doesn't match the anxious drumming of his fingers against the wheel. You frown at the behavior, tucking it away in the back of your mind. Your nature was to be untrustworthy of people. Especially those you've just met.

"Why did you go to Bella's wedding?"

"Because she invited me. And. . . as much as I hate him, Bella's still my friend."

That was sweet but the ceremony must have been a dagger in his heart, another reminder that the girl he loved could never be his.

'Why did you go to her wedding? You looked like the whole thing was actual torture." Jacob turns your question against yourself. "You even said that you aren't close with Bella."

"Obligation. My mother paid for a plane ticket to come to the wedding without my knowledge. Really laid that guilt heavy when she said the ticket was expensive." You roll your eyes when you remembered that phone call. "And I guess it's the least I can do as the older sister. Just show up."

A lull in conversation settles until Jacob brings up "So you probably won't be coming back any time soon. . . That's a shame. . ."

You shrug. "There really isn't a reason for me to stay. My life isn't here."

The drinks you previously consumed were beginning to make your tummy warm and your morals. . . well, loose. You start really taking in Jacob's side profile, his defined cheekbones and full lips. The muscles that are roped in his neck. Were you really entertaining the idea of sleeping with Bella's sloppy seconds?

You bite your bottom lip, fighting against the ache you feel between your legs. It had been a while since you'd last had a good rutting. But you felt that this guy, no matter how sexy he appeared, was a virgin. That was something you didn't want to deal with. You wanted a man who knew what he was doing.

Reigning in your drunk horniness, you turn your head to stare back out the window. No, you definitely didn't want to have another reason to come back here.

Quiet the rest of the way to the motel, you watch the neon sign grow closer as Jacob pulled into the pebbly parking lot. You stretch and grab your bag from between your feet.

"Thanks again for the ride. Are you sure you don't want any money for gas?"

Why did he look like a sad puppy?

"Like I said, it's alright. But. . . Can I get your number instead?"

You feel your brows shoot up and you know you must have a ridiculous expression. "My number? What for?"

His cheeks tinge with warmth as Jacob peels his eyes away from you. Yup, definitely a virgin.

"I'd. . . I'd like to get to know you." Was all he could mumble out.

Damn he was making it too easy for you.

An impish curl to your lips. "You can still get to know me. Want to come inside for a little bit?" The implication was too obvious that even Jacob was able to catch on your meaning.

Poor thing is stammering, conflicted with saying yes but the sweet part of him wanted to reject your offer. You really didn't think he would agree but enjoyed the shock he got from your words.

Letting him sit in the car perplexed, you open the car door and bid him goodnight.

It only took a second before you heard footsteps right behind you. You felt his body heat at your back when you open your motel room door. The lights were still on, the way you left them, at least casting a warm glow over the meager furniture in the room. You set your bag down on the chair and finally turn around to face Jacob.

He's blushing terribly, unable to hide his nerves and you take pity on him.

"You can sit down, ya know." you chuckle and he obediently sits on the edge. "You said you wanted to get to know me more, right?" Crouching down, you open the mini fridge that the motel offered. Having already stashed away some items you bought at the liquor store. Fingers crack open the can.

Jacob's gaze fires something inside of you. His blush was intense but it didn't compare to the heat in his eyes. A small blush of your own actually tinges your face. "Yeah. I did. Like what's your favorite color or your favorite food?" His smile would flood any girl's panties.

You hide your giggle by taking a sip from your can. "Hmm, those are real stumpers." The more the both of you joked around, the more tension that leaves Jacob's frame. Sitting next to him he's now comfortable enough to scoot closer to you so that your bodies are pressed together.

In a rather sneaky way, Jacob had stolen your can of beer and was drinking from it too. Well, now you couldn't have him driving back home tonight with a good conscious.

And just as the alcohol was starting to warm him too, his hands grew bold and traveled from resting on your thigh to your waist and higher until you were pressed against his chest. Jacob's kiss overflows with passion and lust that completely takes your breath away. He's definitely kissed before, that much was certain.

His skin nearly scalds under your fingers as they find themselves gripping the soft cotton material of his button up.

This was a new Jacob that you hadn't seen. Was he keeping this part hidden deep down all along?

Hot hands hike up the hem of your dress, impatient to rove the skin of your upper thighs. He palms the soft, squishy flesh of the insides of your thighs before pausing near the elastic band of your panties. He's groaning to himself, knowing what lay beyond the flimsy fabric. Just to verify for yourself, you grind yourself against the tent of his pants. Jacob shivers and given your unvoiced permission, his fingers pull aside your underwear.

His face is hidden in the crook of your neck, lips nipping at the juncture of your jaw. It makes your head tilt back to give him more access. Jacob growls in appreciation, thick fingers playing with your wet pussy lips. You squirm, wanting him inside of you but he was strong and kept you at bay. If this was indeed his first time then Jacob was in no rush. Like he wanted to memorize through the touch of his fingers each intimate part of you.

Nose nuzzling the soft skin of your throat, inhaling deeply. A finger grazes over your swollen clit making you jump from the sudden contact. Your little whine just makes his cock harder. Jacob chokes on his own moan and glides over your clit again.

Most men wouldn't even know where the clit is. Especially virgins. Jacob seemed to find it right away and liked how this small button of nerves could send you into a spasming fit.

As much as you want to regain control, your head is swimming from the attention he's giving your body. Eager hands and lips.

Jacob becomes slack jawed when he finally inserts a finger past your sopping folds. "Oh fuck"

He keeps whispering 'fuck fuck fuck' as his finger slides in and out, helped by your pooling arousal coating it. Your mewling is cut short though and turns into a cry of dismay when he removes his hand completely to examine his glistening digits. Bringing it up his lips, he sniffs it and you swear a dark possessiveness seizes his expression. Jacob licks his fingers and thumb clean.

While he's distracted, you scramble to fling your clothes off; skin burning up with desire. When you look back at him, his eyes are now glued to your naked form.

"Come on. You're turn." You grin and lean back against the pillows on the bed.

So obedient, Jacob nearly rips his shirt to shreds. The buttons were but an obstacle to him now.

Boy were you delighted to see his sculpted body. His abs and cum gutters that were oh so prominent. And once his pants were removed-

How was this guy still a virgin??

You've been with your share of men, but none of them had a cock as thick as a beer can. Damn near hypnotized watching it as he crawls on the bed and slots himself in between your open legs. Something animalistic on his face as he grabs your legs and throws them over his broad shoulders. Going by pure instinct, the bulb of Jacob's cock is dragged along your begging slit, experimentally bullying the tip inside.

Once he had the tip in, he snaps his hips harshly, piercing you and stretching out the walls of your pussy with his thick cock.

Now you're the one chanting 'fuck fuck fuck' repeatedly as he gives you no time to adjust. Now that he's inside of you, Jacob can't help but devour you entirely. Fingers digging into your plush skin as he holds onto you tightly. The tight squeeze your pussy offered his cock was driving him inside so that he mercilessly pounded into you. You enjoy every second, every ram his cock tip dealt your cervix. It was impossible for a virgin to fuck you this good and this dumb but there you were just a screaming mess. Absolutely no thoughts in your head, only focusing on the stretch the width of his cock gives you.

You try your best to buck against him, to reciprocate every pleasure he gave you but it was laborious to keep up with him. So you just let him use you as a fuck doll.

You wanted to be fucked into oblivion.

Jacob had a rude awakening the following morning, not just due to the slight headache that was ringing in his brain, but because when he reached over for the warm body he thought was next to him there was only cold bed sheets.

He peels his eyes open to find the bed completely empty besides himself. There was a piece of paper with black inked writing. It had an apology. You were running late to your flight and apologized.

But no number.

Staring at it for a moment, Jacob sighs, running a hand over his face. He just couldn't believe what he'd done last night. Worse was you'd left no number.

Really, he couldn't help himself once he'd imprinted on you. That was sealing the fate of the night. Especially when he smelled your arousal. Fuck, he was just hoping to be invited to stay with you. Though he didn't quite believe it at first when you'd offered him to come inside your room. He would've done anything in the moment to stay a little longer with you.

The alcohol wasn't what really urged him on once he got going, it was the wolf in him. To claim and. . . Jacob blushes to admit it, but to breed too. All instinctual, of course. He wasn't ready for kids and clearly you weren't either. But that's what his wolf was howling at him to do.

It was embarrassing to admit that at the end of the day, his wolf really did control him.

He runs away from his own thoughts by reading your note again, overly focusing on the lack of number. Anxious thoughts sweep him up in a smashing wave.

Pressure upon his chest makes him feel like he can't breathe. Repressing the urge to shapeshift into a stronger form that would allow him to really express the anguish he was feeling. It hurt when Bella rejected him. The hurt had stayed with him up until he'd spotted you.

He thought it cruel kismet that you turned out to be Bella's sister. Who would blame him though? No one has seen you in Forks since you were small. And Bella never spoke of you either. To him, you'd only been an urban legend with only a handful of pictures as shaky evidence.

This explains everything though. Why he was drawn to Bella. She would eventually lead him to who he really belonged with. You.

The animal in him gnashes it's teeth together, growling for it's imprintee, it's mate.

If only Jacob knew.

Find her.

Find her.

Find her.

A constant bark in his mind until he leapt from the bed and got dressed. He couldn't silence it until he obeyed. Finding his cellphone drained of battery. Jacob curses his past self for not charging it prior to the wedding. He'd have to wait to call Bella and hopefully she would answer on her honeymoon.

You frown at the unknown number that had your phone ringing. Since you were at work, you ignore it.

At first.

Four more calls sets you at your limit until you excuse yourself and go into the hall to answer it. "Hello?"

"You're a piece of work, you know that?! Showing up to my wedding without speaking to me for years?!"

"You invited me! And mom made me!" You snap, knowing who it was. Bella. What was she doing calling you? She was supposed to be on her honeymoon with her perfect husband. Renee must have given her your number. "What is it? What's so important that you pulled me away from work?"

"How could you do that to Jacob? You fuck him a-and then just leave without anything?!" You remember that stutter from childhood. It always got worse when Bella was upset.

Grinding your molars, you make sure to lower your voice so you weren't heard from your coworkers. "I left a note explaining that I would be late to my flight."

You hear her derisive scoff "But no contact information! Was he just a fling to you? A-A boy toy?!!"

The laugh left you before you could stop it.

"You think this is funny?!"

Cackling now, you have to take a deep breath to settle yourself. "Oh my god I don't think I've heard anyone say that in years!"

That adds heat to her tone. "You can't use people like that!!"

"I didn't use him. For god's sake Bella, we had a good time and that was that. I told him I didn't have anything left in Forks. Gave him plenty of opportunities to leave. I didn't force-"

"He-he REALLY likes you. And you just tossed him aside! That night meant more to him than you could possibly know!"

Maybe you should have been more considerate. But your jaded side was strong, having been fucked over by guys one too many times before. Some of them virgins too. Fuck you didn't want to say Bella was right.

"He can't be that upset that I dashed without leaving him a number. We hardly know each other. He'll find someone else now that he has the confidence that he could even get a girl."

Bella goes silent for a moment. You hear soft whispers in the background, most likely Edward. She returns to you with a frustrated huff. "Look, just- please call him or better yet go see him. I've never expected much from you, but you have to see him again. Please."

This was the only thing she's really asked for from you.

You called him when you got home, heavily apologizing because it was most possibly the best sex of your life if you were being completely honest. And he deserved an explanation on why you'd left without giving him your number. "It wasn't anything you did, really. I'm just kinda a shitty person. I'm really sorry. . . I should've been more empathetic. I remember when I lost my virginity-"

"Oh god. Th-that's not the reason why I wanted your number. I didn't just want to screw you. I. . ." You listen to him gulp. Jacob takes a deep breath. On the other end, unbeknownst to you, was Jacob pacing back and forth at a rest stop near where your city was in. He'd never meant for it to sound like he was tattling to Bella and butt-hurt. All he asked was for your number before she countered demanding a reason why. He was completely honest with her. She blew up at him over the phone to the point he had to hold his cellphone at arm's length. Bella hung up immediately once she was done. Probably to call you. Apparently she hadn't told you about the whole wolves and imprinting thing.

Using what scent was left on his shirt, he'd strapped his shorts and shirt to his leg and shifted to his wolf to track you down. It may have been extreme, but by the time he'd gotten Bella to answer her phone he was already at his wit's end. He knew he may have come off as a creep by doing this. This was an itch he desperately needed to satisfy. The wolf in him demands to know where you'd gone.

He couldn't say that to you. That would make him sound downright demented.

"I would just really like to know you. For real. Not just your favorite color or food. I want to know that too, but I want to really know you." God did he sound lame? Jacob thought what he just said was totally lame.

"You sure? You may not like what you find." There's a hint of sadness.

"I'm positive."

Setting up another date, you put down your phone with a tender smile. Maybe. . . Maybe this wouldn't be like all the other times. He sounded sincere. And no one else has gone to the trouble of getting your number from anyone.

You just hope you weren't making a big mistake.

Grabbing your cigarette and lighter, you head outside onto your small porch.

You put it between your lips while your thumb fumbles with the lighter's sparkwheel. A crunching sound a few feet away from you makes you pause. The cigarette falls from your lips as you stare into large brown eyes stare at you from a break of trees. Russet fur was highlighted by the street light that was near. You didn't think wolves were capable of growing to such a size. This thing was gargantuan.

There's not an air of danger around it. The wolf merely wags it's tail, snout shaping into what you could only describe as a grin before it pads back off into the night.

You smile to yourself. "Wow."

It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

Perhaps a good omen.

Tags:

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bakugospartner

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #twilight fandom #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight #jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black fanfic #jacob black fanfictions #jacob black fanfiction

[bwabys-scenarios]

Tears and Cake(NSFW)

Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY KURAPIKA!! 💗💗💗

warnings: nsfw, oral(f!receiving), breeding kink, creampie, pregnancy

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Since the massacre, Kurapika has spent his birthdays alone and in silence. Sometimes he’d get himself a little treat to celebrate the special occasions, but most of the time his birthday would pass by without him even noticing.

That was, until he met you.

The two of you had met up for some coffee and snacks while he was in town, and the topic of birthdays came up.

“Yeah, my birthday is actually next month!” you said, watching his eyes widen slightly.

“Really? I’ll have to send you a gift. I’ll be busy, but I promise I’ll come to celebrate with you when I’m able.”

“That’s okay. And yours?”

Kurapika blinked, looking at you. “My what?”

“Your birthday. I told you mine, what about yours?”

For a moment, he considered whether he should tell you or not. It wasn’t a day he liked talking about… not anymore.

But the way you looked at him, as if you were already planning something made his heart twist. It was important to you, so it would be important to him.

“It’s… April 4th.”

“Oh, so 4/4? That’s pretty cool!”

And that was that. The topic changed to something business related, and when the two of you were full of coffee and baked goods, you parted so he could go and get some work done.

‘Now, it’s time to plan his birthday…’

———————

Kurapika was swamped at with work lately, juggling being a bodyguard while also trying to find information on the Phantom Troupe and possible locations of the scarlet eyes.

The days were blending together, and he struggled to remember what day of the week it was most days, much less what day of the month it was.

So when you called him up asking if he’d be free that weekend, he cleared his schedule for a much needed break.

After all, you were really the only person he made time for these days. The two of you had been dating for about a year now. He always felt a bit bad about not spending enough time with you. You never asked for much though, and with how excited you were over the phone, how could he say no?

That didn’t mean he was super excited. Kurapika was exhausted, both physically and mentally drained. He slept nearly the entire train ride to your hometown, and was still tired when he hailed a taxi to your place.

By the time he got there, the sun was setting, casting your apartment in an orange glow. The stairs up to your apartment door felt so familiar. He’d walked up the flight a hundred times, usually carrying chocolates or flowers to make up for his long absences.

And now he was at your doorstep, knocking with one hand while carrying a plush in the other. He had found the thing in his travels, something he knew you liked to collect. Kurapika couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on your face when you saw he had found the exact one you had been looking for.

When you opened the door, he sighed in contentment. Just getting to see you in person already put his mind at ease. Every second he was away from you, Kurapika worried over you and your safety. After all, there were a lot of people out for Kurapika’s head. It made sense that you would have a target on your back due to this, which was why you were occasionally visited by his close friends for wellness checks.

He adore you endlessly, it was evident in the way he melted the second your eyes lit up at both him and the plush in his arms. “Oh, you found it! Eeek!”

You grabbed it from his arm, squealing in delight and spinning in a circle. “I love it, thank you so much, Pika!”

Kurapika walked in after you cracked the door open a bit, his eyes soft. It smelled sweet, like vanilla and cinnamon. A bouquet of flowers sat on the kitchen table, and he blushed to think you may have picked them up for his visit.

“It was no trouble, love. I’m happy whenever you’re happy.”

Your cheeks heated up, and you couldn’t help but lean against him, wanting his attention. “Mmph… missed you so much, Pika…”

His own cheeks turned a pale pink as he wrapped his arms around you, his lips placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Missed you too, angel. More than you could ever know.”

Kurapika knew that even you, someone who was more patient and kind than anyone he knew could get lonely sometimes. The guilt of being away from you more often than by your side ate away at him, and sometimes he wondered if being with someone who could give you more attention might be better for you in the long run.

But as you led him to the kitchen, unable to keep the excited smile off your face, he realized how much you truly loved him, and that the prospect of you loving another would never come true.

On the table was a small chocolate cake, with strawberries and candles placed neatly on the top. Sitting nearby were a few presents, and another bouquet of flowers too.

“Happy birthday, Kurapika!”

For a moment, Kurapika was in shock. He’d been so busy that he hadn’t even remembered that his birthday was that weekend. But you had, and his heart thumped against his chest with love and affection for you.

“Kurapika… are you alright?”

He didn’t realize he had started to cry until your gentle hands were wiping away his tears. He blinked, his expression shifting to one of devotion and gratitude.

“Oh, my angel… this is all for me?”

You nodded, smiling as you sat him down in front of his cake. He blushed when you took out your phone and pressed record. Kurapika usually didn’t like being on camera, but with you it was different. He knew you just wanted to capture the moment to look back on later… and he loved that about you.

As you sang happy birthday to him, Kurapika knew that one day, you would be his wife. He thought he had been sure before, but now it was all clear to him.

For a while before you met, his future was blank for him. He didn’t plan anything, knowing there was a possibility he could die attempting to complete his mission.

But with you… he could almost picture your wedding day. Him in traditional Kurta attire, and you in a white gown. It was so clear, he could imagine the day the two of you hunched over a pregnancy test, and him pulling you in for a kiss when it was positive.

When he blew out the candles, Kurapika could only think of one wish he would ever want to come true.

‘I want to stay with (Name) forever…’

“Made your wish?” you asked, giving his cheek a kiss. The blonde smiled, sighing contentedly as he leaned into your touch.

“Mhm… I did.”

The presents were all wonderful, ranging from a scarf you knitted yourself, to a pair of ruby earrings that matched his eyes. Each item was tucked carefully away into his satchel, where he promised to the gods above that he would give back to you tenfold.

This love, this adoration was almost overwhelming, and as you smiled at him in bed, he couldn’t help but act out his feelings by pulling you closer.

“I want you…” he said softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “It’s been too long since I’ve pleased you. Please, my angel… let me make you feel good.”

Your cheeks heated up, and you pouted just a little. “B-but it’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be pleasing you?”

He chuckled, moving to hover above you. “My love, making you cum pleases me more than anything else.”

“O-oh…” you couldn’t protest one bit as he removed your pajama pants, giving your lacy panties a soft smirk.

“It’s like you planned for this, (Name). Aren’t these the panties I bought for last week?”

You nodded, trying to hide your flustered face. “I was… hoping we would… be intimate tonight.”

Kurapika felt bad for just a moment… he had only thought about how much he had been craving you… but how about the longing you felt? How long had his little angel been waiting for him to make love to her? It had been at least two months…

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should be taking better care of you…”

He gave a soft lick to the wet spot already forming on your panties, groaning at the taste of your arousal on his tongue. “Need it…”

Your panties were off in a second, and his face was buried between your thighs. It felt amazing, and you were cumming within a minute. His tongue circling your clit, his fingers thrusting into your needy cunt was too much for you to take, especially after going without for so long.

“P-Pika!”

The little pants and moans that left your mouth when you came were enough to get his cock rock hard, painfully pressing against his pants. He was quick to tug off his pants and boxers, desperate to be inside of your warm cunt.

“F-fuck, (Name)… so sorry, angel, need you so bad.”

Usually, Kurapika spent a lot more time between your legs, often leaving your thighs shaking from overstimulation… but today he was too needy.

He snapped his hips against yours, sinking into you until he was buried to the hilt. The whine you let out as your pussy clenched around him was enough to have him rutting into you like an animal.

Kurapika was usually such a gentle lover, but something had snapped inside of him tonight. He needed you like a man dying of thirst needed water. You weren’t just part of his life, you were essential.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to cum together, considering how long you both had gone without another. He kissed you as his cum painted your walls, softly moving his hips as he came down from his high.

You were both exhausted after, but completely happy and satisfied at the same time. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little when you yawned, nuzzling your face against his chest.

“My sleepy girl…”

He placed a kiss on your forehead before he carried you to the bathroom for a quick bath. If Kurapika was good at anything, it was aftercare. He always made you feel appreciated and beautiful, his hands cleaning away the sweat and cum from your body as you sleepily clung to him.

When he wrapped a fluffy towel around you, gently drying you off, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Got… one last present for you, Pika…”

He tilted his head. “Another? But you’ve already given me so much, I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

You smiled, reaching into the drawer by your bed. “Oh, it’s something you’ve been wanting for a while.”

After he helped dress you in comfy, warm pajamas, he yawned, taking the box from your hands. “Open it…”

Kurapika couldn’t believe his eyes. He had to look several times, the usual brown shade turning scarlet as tears fell down his cheeks.

“You’re… pregnant?”

Inside the box was a pregnancy test with two lines showing. You nodded, giggling in delight when he pulled you into his arms.

Kurapika sobbed, unable to stop himself from crying as you rubbed his back. “My angel… oh my love, you’re carrying our baby?”

“Yes… I found out a few weeks ago. It’s been hard hiding it, but I thought revealing it today would be more special-“

He covered your face and neck in kisses, kneeling before you so he could lift your shirt. It was like a devoted believer kneeling before their goddess in prayer, his lips soft on your belly.

The future that he had been looking forward to was already here… his girlfriend was pregnant, they were in love, and now he could only think of one thing.

“Marry me, (Name).”

And you said yes, your own eyes filling with tears as you embraced. He didn’t have a ring now, but by god he would get you the best one there was as soon as possible. You would get everything you wanted, he was devoted to you, body and soul.

As the two of you fell asleep that night, Kurapika felt grateful, and so goddamn happy. He had so many things to look forward to, so many reasons to keep living when he thought he would never even make it into his 20s.

But today, he was 21, engaged, and a father to be.

This was the best birthday of his life… and he would never forget it as long as he lived.

#kurapika x reader #kurapika x y/n #kurapika x you #requests open #x reader #anime x reader #reader insert #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #smut requests #hunter x hunter x reader #anime x chubby reader #chubby!reader #chubby reader #fem!reader #fem reader #female reader #smut fanfiction #smut fic #hxh smut #hunter x hunter smut #kurapika smut #hxh fluff #fluffy #kurapika hunter x hunter #x reader smut

[phthalomushroom]

The Family (5)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, stalking, mention of injury

word count: 1.8K

note: I am so sorry for the late post, the words were just not wording and I needed more time to figure out what I wanted to be said. But I finished this chapter and I hope you all enjoy!

Baela and you had split up only a couple of hours ago. She had gotten a call and had needed to leave right away. You had asked what was going on but she assured you everything was fine before leaving.

You still had some errands to do, which lead you across the city to the East side. By the time you finished it had gotten pretty late. Most of the stores were closed and the taxi services were no longer in commission. You looked at your phone to see when the next train was, seeing that you needed to make it fifteen blocks in order to catch the last train for the red line. You began walking, taking in the cool evening air when you had an odd, gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

The streets were a little too quiet, which was never the case during this time. Usually there would be groups of people out walking, people on their balconies laughing but tonight there was just…quiet. You took a look over your shoulder to try and ease your thoughts only to see the man Daemon had mentioned earlier following you.

You looked forward, picking up the pace as you turned the corner. You thought that maybe it was a coincidence but that would be impossible. There were no coincidences in this city, you of all people should know that. 

You were made keenly aware that you were nowhere near your apartment nor the train station and there was no way you were going to end up in a subway possibly cornered. You were up on the East side, a side that you didn’t venture much on your own, meaning you were very unfamiliar with it. This was supposed to be a safe part of the city since the rich and high class lived here, there  was no way something would happen to you.

Clearly not, as the footsteps behind you got louder, making you instinctually speed up. 

This shouldn’t be happening, Daemon should have intervened by now. Unless that whole conversation was just to get under your skin, to throw you off. 

What a prick. 

However as much as Daemon was a prick you weren’t willing to find out if he was a liar.

You had grabbed your mace out of your bag, your body going into autopilot as your senses tried to assess how close this man was getting to you. You took a turn ending up on a familiar cobblestone street and realized exactly where you could go. You turned down another corner, heading for the brownstone at the end of the street. 

You took the stairs two at a time, repeatedly knocking on the door quickly as you watched from the corner of your eye as the man continued to approach. 

The heavy wooden door opened to reveal a shirtless and very confused Aemond Targaryen. 

“What-”

You wrapped your arms around him, pushing your way inside as you pushed him up against the wall and out of view of the street, kicking the door shut. You peaked through the side window, moving the curtain to see the man that was following you get picked up by a black Audi before speeding away. 

“Happy to see you too.”

You looked up to see Aemond smirking at you. You quickly pulled away, taking a couple steps back as you shoved your mace back in your bag. “Your guard dog take the night off?”

Aemond’s eyebrows furrowed, noting what was just in your hand. “Huh?”

“Someone was following me. I thought Daemon was on protection detail.”

His face twisted before he grabbed your hand, taking you up the stairs of the foyer and into the kitchen. He grabbed his phone off the kitchen island.

He started scrolling through contacts. “Help yourself to anything you want, I have to make a call.”

“I think I’ll just go-”

“Sit.”

You instinctively took a seat at the island, watching him walk around the corner to where his office was. You rolled your eyes at yourself, right back here and right back into your old ways. 

You set your shopping bags on the ground and put your coat over your chair heading over to the oven where something was simmering. It looked like Aemond had just finished making some mac n’ cheese.

He did say help yourself.

You grabbed a bowl from the shelf and supplied some golden crescents to your bowl. You had just sat down and taken a forkful to your mouth when Aemond came back in, with a shirt on, as he tied up his hair into a low bun.

He looked kinda pretty as a few of the shorter strands framed his face. 

He smirked, noting you had been staring. “Eating my food already.”

You blinked, looking away. “You said help yourself.”

“Indeed I did.” He grabbed a bowl, joining you across the island.

It was silent for a while, both of you eating your portions. It felt… normal. Like old times, a chill went down your spine at that. You needed to change that.

“Everything okay?”

Aemond’s face darkened. “It will be.”

“Is Daemon-”

“He’s being taken care of by the family doctor.”

You nodded. “The same one who stitched me up?”

His eyes met yours before quickly looking at the counter, he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

You put your fork down, sitting back in your chair crossing your arms. “I’m going to need an explanation.”

He mirrored your stance, leaning back against the counter. “I don’t think that's a good idea.”

You started getting up. “Then I’m leaving.”

“No.” He reached over the counter to grab your hand. 

You looked up at him. “You were a real asshole the last time we spoke, you know that right?”

He let out a sigh, letting your hand go. “I know. I… I didn’t expect to see you and I was drunk.”

“You never acted like that while you were drunk before.”

“That’s because I dated you.”

You felt your face heat up at that. “Maybe you shouldn’t make it a habit. You're a bit of a mean drunk.”

He let out a small chuckle. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were rude.”

“I was flirting.”

“You’re engaged.”

He frowned. “I know.”

“We’re going to have to talk about it. At least to make peace.”

His eyes softened. “I-I can’t.”

You moved to grab your stuff as you made your way to the door. More secrets, more difficulties. You needed the whole truth or nothing and you were beginning to grow tired of being the only one who wanted to have a peaceful life. 

“It’s the Lannisters.”

Your feet stopped moving, you almost dropped your things. You slowly turned towards him. “You said they were gone.”

“They were but- but things got complicated. I am going to take care of it.”

“What happened, Aemond?”

“You came back, you weren’t supposed to come back and then everything got more complicated and then Alys-”

“Slow down.” You couldn’t make sense of anything he was trying to say.

He was breathing quickly and his words were beginning to jumble to the point where understanding him was impossible. Tears looked like they were ready to spill from his eyes. You dropped your stuff, walking over to him and taking his face in your hands. 

You forced him to look at you. “Breathe, Aemond.”

You moved your hands down so they were rubbing up and down his arms. “You need to breathe.”

He leaned forward, putting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

Then another. 

You closed your eyes, leaning into him and the familiar sage scent that he got from using his body wash. Despite the years, despite the pain, despite everything you still missed him. He was your everything when you were a teen, he was the only family you had at one point and now, being this close to him, you wondered how you had gone so long without him.

But he was engaged, and as much as you wanted to be selfish you just couldn’t do it. 

You pulled away, taking a step back from him. “The Lannisters are back?”

He seemed disappointed. 

He nodded, rubbing his face. “They’ve been back for a couple months now.”

“You should have told me.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want you involved in this again.”

“Aemond I am involved in this, I mean I was being followed home. Daemon got hurt. It’s like five years ago all over again.”

“No it's not.” He came towards you taking your hands and rubbing his thumb in a circle on the back of your hand. “I’m not going to let that night happen again. I’m not gonna lose you, do you understand me?”

He was looking intensely into your eyes, then his gaze moved to your lips. You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close.

“Aemond.” You breathed. Your head began to spin as if you were drunk, your thoughts going quiet as your body started to move closer to his as if you were magnets destined to meet again. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” He leaned down, his breath fanning your face.

“Aemond.” The noise you made was a mixture of a whimper and a plea as Aemond leaned closer meeting your lips with his.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as his tongue invaded your mouth. You snaked your hands up into his hair, pulling the strands from the bun he wore. He moaned, pulling you impossibly closer as he nipped your lower lip. You felt like you were on fire, as your teeth clashed, the kiss becoming more hungry. 

More desperate. 

Suddenly his phone rang, causing the two of you to jump apart, finally being brought back to reality. He took his phone out of his back pocket, glancing at the caller ID.

“I have to take this.” 

You nodded.

“You aren’t leaving tonight,” he said. “You can stay in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t you still have a guest room?”

His face turned red. “Not anymore.”

He turned, heading towards his office as he answered his phone, closing the door behind him.

You made your way upstairs, heading past where you remembered the guest room to be. Against your better judgment you peered inside to see the room that used to house a queen sized bed now be filled with boxes of all kinds of things. 

You crept inside, looking into one of the closer boxes. You knew you shouldn't be snooping but after everything that happened tonight you thought fuck it. 

You reached into one of the opened boxes pulling out a small onesie. One that was meant for a baby.

Your heart felt like it shattered.

Yeah, maybe you should have minded your business.

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @namelesslosers @tssf-imagines @xcharlottemikaelsonx @yourbane @beary-rambles @a-beaverhausen @lightblindingme

#modern!aemon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemon targaryen x reader #targaryen #fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #modern!aemond #modern!hotd #hold au #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #modern hotd #hold x reader #modern mob au #mob au #aemond modern au #modern aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #mafia au #mafia!aemond

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

That's My Wife - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x airline pilot!reader

Summary: 3.2k words. Rooster and his coworkers drew the short stick and ended up on a commercial civilian flight across the country for specialty flight training in Key West. A certain someone makes the flight and travel woes well worth the trouble for Bradley.

Warnings: none really, just tons of fluff! maybe some cursing & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader

a/n: hi!! i posted a little snippet/preview of this fic last night and def did not expect it to get as much attention as it did. i'm so happy that so many of you were just as excited as me to see the finished product! i hope y'all enjoy it! <3

master list

An advanced specialty flight training at the Naval Air Station in Key West had the best aviators in the U.S. military flocking to the vibrant Florida island. This, of course, included Top Gun’s best graduates.

Rooster, Phoenix, and Hangman all had impressive reputations before the Uranium Plant mission led by Maverick. After that mission? They were nothing short of living legends in the Navy. So, naturally, they were among the pilots being sent out for the rigorous training.

The Navy couldn’t rationalize sending a private charter plane or wasting the fuel needed to transport just a few pilots to a base thousands of miles away, so the three aviators were sent on a commercial flight. Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster got to experience the joys of civilian travel–long security lines through TSA, insufferably stressed-out travelers, and the overwhelming urge to get wasted at the bar conveniently located near their gate.

Hangman joked that if Rooster weren’t in uniform and instead wearing his typical Hawaiian shirts and jorts, he would’ve fit right in with the other passengers. Phoenix, who gave in and treated herself to a glass of wine, snorted before adding that Rooster was uptight enough then to blend in seamlessly.

Bradley would never admit it, but they were probably right. His one consolation was the smile his boarding pass brought to his face. The airline they were traveling with was familiar to Rooster to say the least.

The three aviators received priority boarding as active-duty military personnel. They sat at the very front of the cabin and Phoenix took the opportunity to people-watch as the rest of the passengers boarded. Hangman busied himself with looking into which Key West nightclubs and bars he could hit up after training while Rooster sent a quick text.

2:37 p.m.  Hey, baby. Just boarded the flight to Key West. I’ll talk to you when we land 😘 – Brad

2:38 p.m.  Have a safe flight, babe 😉💗 – y/n

Rooster chuckled at y/n’s use of a winking emoji before he turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket. The flight attendants moved down the center aisle to begin their safety demonstration. Rooster was certain he’d sat through the same speech a thousand times, so he got comfortable and closed his eyes to take a nap.

A crackling from the plane’s speakers preceded what Rooster anticipated to be another relatively boring announcement.

“Good afternoon and welcome aboard, everyone. This is your Captain speaking,” an upbeat feminine voice floated through the aircraft’s speakers. Bradley’s eyes shot open wide and he sat up straight at the sound. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“No way…” he whispered to himself with a surprised smile.

Phoenix and Hangman shared a side-eye glance once they noticed the sudden change in Rooster’s demeanor. The man previously looked bored out of his mind and now he was hanging on to every word of the announcement. A wide grin spread across Rooster’s face while the pilot continued her introduction. As they taxied toward the runway, Hangman’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What is it, Bradshaw?” Jake asked with a raised brow. The bastard couldn’t help but be nosy. Phoenix softly elbowed Hangman in the ribs, but she certainly wasn’t tuning the conversation out. Rooster confidently squared his shoulders and turned to look at them.

“That’s my wife,” Rooster stated proudly, referring to the captain’s voice with a grin.

Hangman’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and Phoenix leaned back with an impressed smile. Rooster’s fellow aviators knew he was married; hell, he wore his wedding ring like a badge of honor. He was quick to reject the frequent flirting he received and would simply raise his left ring finger whenever he was asked out at The Hard Deck–the man was nothing if not loyal. But Rooster was never the type to speak about his personal life at work, much less mention that his wife is also a pilot.

In fact, the only person Rooster worked with that knew anything about y/n was Maverick. Bradley introduced them to each other a few months after they started dating. The younger Navy man knew by the end of their second date that y/n was it for him. It took y/n a little longer to come to the same conclusion, but once she did she never looked back.

Actually, it was Maverick that helped y/n realize just how head-over-heels in love she was with Bradley. He brought y/n to meet his stand-in father figure at Mav’s hanger. In the middle of y/n and Maverick geeking out about all the memorabilia displayed in the hanger and trading flight stories, Rooster ran out to silence his Ford Bronco’s ancient and overly-sensitive car alarm. Pete took the opportunity to let y/n know just how whipped his godson was. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time, y/n. He’s bailed on our dinner plans at least three times in the past month just to get a chance to see you when you’re in the area.” Maverick smiled and clasped y/n’s shoulder. “You’re good for him. I hope he’s good for you too.”

And the rest was history. Just after their one year anniversary, Bradley got down on one knee in the middle of a crowded airport after they spent three full weeks apart. y/n flung herself into Bradley’s arms, foregoing the ring entirely and pressed her lips against his before she said “yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” Maverick was one of the few people at their wedding. It was small and intimate–just how y/n and Rooster liked it. Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, but they preferred things to be private.

Rooster returned from his trip down memory lane as y/n reached the end of her airline spiel. Her simultaneous light-hearted bubbly tone and professional manner had Bradley sporting a sweet smile.

“Before we take off, there’s an additional announcement I’d like to make.” Rooster perked up. y/n was going off-script. “A little birdie told me that some very special Navy aviators are on board with us today,” y/n’s voice came through the speakers, pride seeping into her tone.

Phoenix and Hangman exchanged amused smirks before staring right at Rooster. In a different scenario, the sudden attention focused on him might’ve made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t care less right now. His wife, whom he hadn’t seen in over a week, was just steps away and he would be able to hold her in his arms again soon.

“Thank you for your service, lady and gents,” y/n finished sincerely. A polite applause filled the aircraft, bringing appreciative smiles to the aviators’ faces. Rooster wasn’t surprised that y/n somehow found out they were on her flight; he knew better than anyone that she was particularly skilled at getting what she wanted, evidently including private passenger information.

With their busy schedules and unpredictable jobs, y/n and Rooster would sometimes go weeks without seeing each other. y/n was gaining seniority in her airline, so she was able to pick and choose her flights sometimes–all of which she strategically planned to be able to visit her husband. When they were on opposite sides of the country, or even the world, it was harder to align their schedules for just a phone call. 

A few nights ago, they had synced-up free time and they didn’t waste a minute. Despite the time zone differences, they talked on the phone for hours. Bradley told y/n about his upcoming week of specialty training at the Naval Air Station in Key West. Since there was no pressing mission or deployment, the Navy was opting to send Rooster and his coworkers on a commercial flight rather than coordinate Navy transport. y/n hummed and checked her schedule while they talked. Lo and behold, she would be piloting a flight from San Diego to Key West later that week. Specifically, Rooster’s flight.

y/n didn’t let on anything about their upcoming flight during the phone call, she wanted it to be a surprise. If there was anything being a commercial passenger pilot taught her, it was how to make sure no one suspected anything was wrong while she spoke into her headset mic. Once, she had to make an announcement to casually address turbulence despite her internal panic while she discreetly manually redistributed fuel between engines when the automatic fuel system failed on a cross-country flight.

The very next morning following Rooster and y/n’s phone call, she pulled a few strings at work and was able to glance at the passenger details for the upcoming direct SAN to EYW flight.

Seat 1D: Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

Seat 1E: Lt. Natasha Trace

Seat 1F: Lt. Jake Seresin

If any policies or procedures were violated in the process of y/n finding the answer to her burning question, no one batted an eye. After all, she was quite possibly the most beloved pilot in her airline. So, that’s how she found out exactly which of Rooster’s coworkers would be accompanying him.

As the plane sped down the runway, quickly gaining enough momentum for take-off, Bradley and y/n both fiddled with their wedding rings. It was a habit they’d developed independently, ironically enough.

y/n’s ascent into the air was smooth as always. Even the most nervous passengers appreciated the light-as-a-feather feeling settling over them as y/n gently reached cruising altitude. Rooster was no stranger to his wife’s expert precision and careful handling of her aircrafts. Phoenix and Hangman were thoroughly impressed by y/n’s skill and ease.

Once the fasten seatbelt lights were turned off, the flight attendants made their way down the center aisle of the plane with snack and beverage carts. Hangman didn’t hesitate to order a double shot of whiskey, earning him an incredulous look from both Rooster and Phoenix. ”What happens on this flight, stays on this flight,” he muttered, ignoring the sting in his throat after downing a third of the glass in one go. Phoenix shrugged and ordered herself another glass of wine. Rooster rolled his eyes at both of their antics. Before he could place his own order, the flight attendant addressed him directly.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw? Captain Bradshaw has requested to see you in the cockpit.” Rooster stood up without hesitation, a wide smile on his face. Hangman’s jaw dropped, a small huff escaping his mouth and Phoenix swatted his chest. Before making the short trek to the cockpit, he bought a bag of gummy worms from the snack cart. 

He gently rapped his knuckles against the door before slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. y/n didn’t hear Bradley enter the cockpit over her headset, but she instantly recognized his warm cologne. She whipped around and smiled wide at him, taking her co-pilot by surprise. The co-pilot offered to take over and y/n gladly accepted the offer.

y/n typically didn’t haphazardly hop out of her seat while piloting a massive plane with over 200 passengers, but for Bradley, she’d make an exception. She all but threw herself into his arms, sending them both stumbling back a few steps. Rooster gently pulled y/n’s headset off, careful not to mess up her neatly styled hair, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. y/n’s co-pilot pretended not to notice, but the embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks gave him away. When y/n pulled away to catch her breath, Bradley pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“How’d you know we’d be on your flight?” he asked, brushing some hair away from his wife’s face.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” y/n teased with a wink. Rooster was no stranger to y/n’s scheming, but it typically worked out to his advantage so he could live without knowing the details.

She all but did a happy dance at 34,000 feet in the air when Bradley pulled out the pack of gummy worms he hid in his pocket. y/n had admitted on more than one occasion she often got the munchies on longer flights with only stale peanuts to hold her over. She leaned against her husband’s chest and tore into the package of sugary goodness, offering a few gummy worms to her co-pilot in exchange for him swearing to secrecy.

The plane shuddered from a brief pocket of turbulence–one that y/n would’ve handled better, Rooster thought. Bradley braced himself against the wall and pulled y/n against his body to keep her from falling.

“Do you remember the first time we were in the cockpit of a plane together?” Rooster asked with a reminiscent smile. That first experience was undoubtedly more harrowing then the current one. y/n chuckled at the memory.

“I could never forget it, honey,” y/n smiled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek before offering him a gummy worm. The couple stood comfortable in silence for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other. With the amount of time they spent apart, every moment they got together was precious. Even if they were simply holding each other in the cramped cockpit of an airplane.

y/n’s attention was pulled away from Bradley when a warning light lit up on the dashboard, accompanied by a shrill beeping. Her co-pilot turned back to her, silently signaling that she was needed back in the pilot seat. With a heavy sigh, she untangled herself from Bradley’s arms and pressed a final peck to his lips with a promised “I’ll see you later, baby.”

Rooster watched his wife climb in her well-deserved pilot seat and slip her headset back on. She switched back to her professional demeanor with an impressive ease as she worked to remedy the dash’s highlighted issue.

He wordlessly slipped out of the cockpit and back to his seat. Hangman, who was on the brink of tipsy after his strong whiskey, lost all sense of discretion as Rooster sat back down in his seat.

“Bradshaw, you sly dog. Was the Missus excited to see you?” Hangman poked, focusing on the lipstick print adorning Rooster’s cheek. Phoenix passed Rooster a napkin with a grin of her own. Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.

With just an hour left in the flight, y/n handed all the controls over to her co-pilot so she could stretch her legs. Lucky for her, her husband was seated just outside of the cockpit. Whoever booked the seats for the aviators knew what they were doing; Bradley Bradshaw was too tall for his own good, something y/n reminded him of frequently. Ironically enough, she never brought up that teasing point when she needed help reaching something around the house or when they went grocery shopping. The point is, being seated at the very front of the cabin gave Bradley sufficient room for his long legs.

y/n slipped out of the cockpit as inconspicuously as possible. She learned from past experience that passengers tended to freak out when they saw pilots, well, not piloting in the cockpit while the plane was airborne. y/n smiled softly as she took in the sight of her husband quietly snoring with his head leaned back against the chair and mouth wide open. She thought about taking a photo, but she was nearly positive Jake Seresin already had based on the devious grin on his face.

Phoenix noticed movement in the front of the cabin, her eyes eventually landing on a woman in a formal pilot uniform. Her face looked familiar. Phoenix was sure she’d seen her somewhere before. With a final squint, she realized the woman a few strides away was the same woman in all of Rooster’s locker polaroids. Mrs. Bradshaw in the flesh.

y/n offered a friendly smile to Phoenix, who seemed to have figured out who she was. Hangman was still focused on the picture he intended to eventually use for blackmail. Phoenix gently shook Rooster’s shoulder, stirring him from his nap. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before his eyes settled on his wife.

“Good morning, Brad,” y/n cooed and reached out to grab his hand. He quickly checked his watch before pulling y/n in and kissing the back of her hand.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted with a glint in his eye. y/n chuckled, she knew he was holding himself back from calling her a smart ass while she was on the job. Hangman watched the interaction in awe. Not only did Bradshaw have a skilled pilot wife, but she was also gorgeous and witty? Jake briefly thought about asking Rooster for dating pointers.

The sleepy fog clouding Rooster’s brain cleared when he had three expectant sets of eyes on him, waiting for him to make introductions. He introduced Natasha and Jake first, citing their names and call signs, even though y/n already knew both from the stories her husband told.

“Phoenix, Hangman, this is Captain y/n Bradshaw, my wife,” Rooster finished with a warm smile. Man, he was whipped.

“Outranked by your wife, huh, Bradshaw?” Hangman jabbed harmlessly. The whiskey wore off a while ago, but Jake was always eager for an opportunity to poke fun at Rooster.

“Mmm, I outrank you as well, Lieutenant,” y/n smiled sweetly, responding without missing a beat. Phoenix chuckled and held out her hand to high-five y/n for her quick comeback. Jake was certain he heard Rooster mutter “that’s my girl,” as he looked up at his wife with a grin.

Rooster’s coworkers made small talk with y/n as she pulled her leg up behind her in a subtle stretch, using her husband’s hand to keep steady before switching sides and repeating the motion. In just the span of the few minutes y/n spent talking to Hangman and Phoenix, all of Bradley’s stories involving them made so much sense. When there was a brief lull in conversation, y/n checked her wristwatch, her eyes widening when she realized she’d been out for longer than expected.

“It was really nice to meet you guys, but I gotta get back in there,” y/n said apologetically. Hangman and Phoenix nodded in understanding, they were more than familiar with the painstaking pillar of time in aviation. Bradley gently squeezed y/n’s hand before she left, still trying to shake his nap-induced daze.

y/n turned on her heel just before reaching the cockpit door to face Bradley again.

“Are you free tonight?” y/n asked hopefully. The week-long training wasn’t scheduled to start until the following day, but she knew it wasn’t unlikely that the Navy would have Rooster busy in his spare time beforehand. His wife’s soft voice and wishful eyes were more than enough to have Bradley’s heart melting. Hell, he’d hand in his resignation as soon as the plane landed if it meant he could spend some time with y/n.

“For you? Always, baby,” Bradley smiled and winked at y/n. The captain grinned and slipped back into the cockpit, looking forward to being back on the ground with her husband.

a/n: did anyone notice the Top Gun (1986) reference 👀? anyways, i hope u liked it! pls lmk what you think, i love reading ur comments & reblogs! :)

also!! i have a bit of a prequel for how rooster & pilot!reader met in the works. i'll finish it up & post it if anyone is interested :)

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Your Wedding Dress

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.7k Warning : Angst. Get your tissues, I mean it. Synopsis : It was one thing to attend her wedding as a guest but to meet her before the ceremony? Would Matt have such strength in himself to face her? Notes : I listened to Phoebe Bridgers - Scott Street outro 1 hour on ytmusic while writing this. I suggest you do the same to get that maximum punch to the gut. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Matt’s grip on his white cane tightened as the smell of florals and champagne hit his nose. The soft sound of wedding symphonies was heard, and he could hear the bustling murmurs of the guests crowding the venue. This would surely be one of those days where he wished he didn’t have his heightened senses.

If only Fisk hit him a little bit harder on the head the other day. If only he’s gotten an important trial to attend to today. If only he’s got any other reason to pass up this harrowing day. If only.

Karen’s gentle squeeze on his arm is the only anchor Matt now has to not completely lose it. Foggy and Marci were a few steps behind them and though none of the four exchanged a word since they got out of the taxi earlier, Matt could tell from the beating of their hearts that they were worried too. For him or for her, he wasn’t sure. It would’ve been a pleasant mini reunion for them all if the circumstances weren't as unfortunate.

He knew that the grey cloud surrounding his head was contaminating such a pleasant morning. His sour expression was in contrast to all the gleeful smiles and happy faces the other guests have. He knew that he should, at the very least, pretend that he’s happy for her. Matt tried. He painfully has tried to be happy. To finally accept his final defeat in life and let her go, but it’s just such an impossible task to do.

Some people are bound to leave greater marks than others in your heart.

“Excuse me,” Someone called from behind the quartet “Is any of you by chance, uh, Mr. Murdock, Ms. Page, Mr. Nelson, or Ms. Stahl?”

“That is us all, actually,” Foggy answers, knowing that his best friend has no power in him to utter a word.

“Oh perfect! The bride has asked to see you all before the ceremony.”

The three friends glanced at Matt, waiting for his response. It was one thing to attend her wedding as a guest but to meet her before the ceremony? Would Matt have such strength in himself to face her?

Before any of them could say a word, the person who seemed to be one of the wedding organisers ushered them to a room. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating. It was the only thing Matt could sense with every step they took. Like a magic spell binding him to follow blindly wherever it may lead. Even if that final destination might be his death.

His heart was hammering inside his chest. Like a hummingbird trying its best to flee its cage. Yet when the door closes behind them, when they’re finally given the privacy to see her alone, when the noise of the havoc happening outside was muffled and all he could feel is the serenity of this bridal suite, Matt suddenly feels like he was afloat.

“You guys made it.”

Matt clenches his jaw. Her voice was as sweet as a melted butter, yet it did nothing but make all the muscles in his body tense. His body went uptight. She was everywhere now. Her scent, her voice, her heartbeat. All of her is filling and suffocating his senses.

The sound of her dress sweeping the floor as she comes closer to them makes his heart ache. He wonders just how beautiful she must look right now. He wonders if she’s wearing that one dress she once described as her dream wedding dress. The one with thousands of mini buttons and a long sleeve of beautiful lace that feels like feathers when you touch it. He wonders if her dress has that long train that he argued would be quite a problem when she needs to do her slow dance later.

The four of them shared their small talk with Matt still busying himself to be desensitised with the event unravelling before his eyes. It proved to be a challenging task to do with her presence around. Everything about her just pulls him whole like a blackhole he couldn’t escape.

“Guys, would you mind giving me and Matt a moment?” She says at last. Matt could feel her heartbeat quickening a little “I don’t really have much time left before the ceremony starts, so if we could just have a few minutes..”

“Of course, yeah! Sure,” Foggy says fast “We’ll be outside.”

Matt could hear the soft sound of the door closing behind him yet it serves as a loud gun to his ears. He’s finally alone with her now, for God knows why, for God knows how long. A part of him wanted to throw away his cane and run towards the closest window to flee himself, but a bigger part of him wanted to melt his feet to the ground and bask in this moment forever.

“You look handsome,” She compliments, slowly taking closer steps towards him. Matt’s breath hitches when he feels her hand around his neck, trying to fix his collar “You’re wearing the tie I gave you back in college.”

“It’s the only nice tie I have,” He says with a smile “I’m sure you look handsome too.”

“Yeah, right.” She scoffs, Matt could tell that she just rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong? You don’t feel beautiful on your wedding day?”

“Oh, no, I do feel pretty, it's just..” She pauses, letting out a soft sigh “It’s just not what I imagined.”

Matt forces a smile, “Describe your dress for me.”

“Don’t you want to just touch it? I’m not the best at describing things, remember?”

“I'd rather hear you talk.” He says, he could almost feel the heartbreak mirrored in her heart beat “Please.”

“Well, uh, where do I start,” She says with an awkward laughter escaping her lips “It’s an off shoulder ball gown with some super tight corset. I’m supposed to wear a glove with it but I couldn’t be bothered. Oh, and the veil. The veil might be the cherry on top in this. I look like a ghost from the 1800s.”

Matt let out a genuine laughter, amused by the distraught she seems to be having, “So no mini buttons?””

She shakes her head, “No mini buttons.”

“No long sleeve with lace that feels like feathers?”

“No, no feather like lace.”

“And no long train?”

“No,” She says, this time with more shakiness in her tone “No long train.”

His tongue darts out of his lips, licking it as he tries to find a word to say, “That does sound like an awful dress.”

“It is,” She agrees in defeat “It’s the worst.”

Silence fell upon them. A familiar one that typically would be comfortable and soothing, yet for once it made them tick like a timebomb. Matt wishes that his abilities would extend into mind reading because God knows just how desperate he wanted to know what she’s thinking. He wanted to know the truth about her heart, what made it beat so loud whenever he laughed or smiled at her. He wanted to know what is making her eyes glossy right now.

“Rescue me, Matt,” She finally whispers “Get me out of here.”

Matt swallows the hard lump on his throat, “And where would we go?”

“Anywhere. We could go miles away from here or.. Or we could just go back to your apartment and drink some beer,” She begs, her sobs get louder as a tear escapes her eyes. She takes one of his hands that was clutching the white cane and places it on her cheek, trying her best to melt into his hold “Tell me that you don’t want me to go on with this. Tell me that this is a mistake, that us breaking up was a mistake. Tell me that you don’t want me to marry him and we’ll be free, Matt. We’ll be free.”

“You’ll never be free with me,” Matt argues, his own voice breaking “You’ll never be safe with me.”

And that’s when Matt feels it. His heart completely shatters as she breaks into tears. He could feel her trembling, feel the pain she’s going through with this marriage. He could feel the heartbreak and despair in her heart. He could feel the frustration and anger that she desperately wanted to vent yet had no outlet for. He could feel it all.

But this, as much as it destroys them both, this is what is best for her. She deserves to be with someone who could provide a stable life for her. Someone who doesn’t spend their nights haunting bad guys and going home on unGodly hours with blood and bruises littering their body. She deserves to be with someone who could protect her, not the one who would only draw danger towards her.

“I don’t love him, Matt. I never do,” She reasoned “I could never love anyone as much as I love you.”

Matt pulls her close for an embrace. He tries to eliminate all the space between them, pulling her impossibly close, yet it still doesn’t feel enough. It hurts him to know that for once their embrace couldn’t fix the problem at hand. He wanted her all for himself but even his greed isn’t as big as the love he holds for her. He couldn’t risk it. He just can’t.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers “I’m sorry you don’t get to have that dream wedding you wanted in this life.”

She remains quiet, her sobs are the only thing filling the room right now.

“Hey, look at me,” Matt says as he pulls away from the hug, cupping her face to make her see him “I’m sorry I caused us this mess, Baby. I never wanted to hurt you.”

She nods, forcing a smile, “I know.”

“I promise you, in every other universe, you’re wearing that wedding dress. You’re smiling and happy because I’ll be waiting at the altar, and I’ll cry. I’ll cry when I feel you walk down with orchids on your hand. And we’ll exchange our vows, and I’ll kiss you before the priest announces us man and wife because I just couldn’t wait. I couldn’t wait.”

A laugh escapes her lips.

“And then we’ll make a fool of ourselves for our dance because what exactly can you expect from a blind man and a woman with an insanely long train of dress?”

“Oh, Matt,” She cries, pulling him for another hug “I love you so much.”

“I know, Baby,” He breathes “I love you even more.”

“Promise me this is the only universe where we don’t end up together.”

Matt pulls away. His thumb caresses her skin gently before pulling her for a kiss. The very last kiss they would share in this lifetime, “I promise.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock scenario #matt murdock scenarios #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock angst #matt murdock oneshot #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x oc

[vivwritesfics]

Hi, I was wondering if you could possibly write something about poly Dando just sweet moments when things get tough for one of them and like little vacations and birthdays! I'm sorry if this is too vague

For my own sake I had to make this really fluffy - I don't know what day of the week lando's birthday was so i picked (just go w it)

I desperately want a new tattoo

Smut implied at the end

Lando's birthday was in November. Of course, Daniel suggested they go somewhere hot to celebrate. And then Y/N suggested the Canary Island and off they went.

On the flight over Lando napped, so of course, Daniel took pictures of him, ones of Lando snoring with his mouth open. Y/N sat herself in his lap and Lando stirred slightly, but all he did was grip her tighter and nuzzle his nose into her neck.

Daniel got another picture of Y/N kissing his cheek and holding two fingers up behind his head. He stored them on his phone, ready to post on Lando's birthday.

When they touched down in Gran Canaria, Y/N gently woke up Lando. "We're here, birthday boy," she whispered and climbed off of his lap.

The three of them made their way from the airport, into the taxi and towards the villa they had rented out for the next week and a bit (the boys had flown straight from the last grand prix, trusting Y/N to pack their bags for them. They only had two weeks between that grand prix and the next, and would be heading straight there from the villa).

Lando's birthday was a Wednesday. He usually woke up early, so Y/N and Daniel had to wake up earlier. They made sure he was still asleep as they slipped out of the bed and made their way down to the nearest supermarket.

They got snacks, drinks and cake. That night they were going out for dinner, to celebrate their boy turning twenty four.

He was going to be awake when they got back, Y/N and Daniel knew this. It was Daniels job to distract him while she worked on getting everything stored away in the kitchen of the villa. The cake was in the fridge and the snacks were in the cupboards. They got Ice cream, which Y/N instantly put in the freezer. That was a treat just for Lando.

"Happy birthday, chicken," said Lando as he threw himself onto the bed beside his boyfriend.

Lando gave him a lazy smile as Daniel wrapped his arms around him, kissing the side of his head. "What've you guys done?" He asked as he leaned his head on Daniels shoulder.

Suddenly Y/N came running up the stairs, plate in hand. "Happy birthday, Lan!" She shouted as she kicked open the door and strode over to him, placing the plate in his lap. She pulled a knife and fork from her back pocket.

Lando ate the breakfast Y/N had prepared for him. He offered Y/N and Daniel bites, which Daniel always accepted.

Their day was very chilled out, swimming in the pool and walking down to the beach. It was nice and chilled, the three of them having a few beers as they lounged around the villa.

And then they went out for Daniel. Daniel and Lando looked incredibly dapper, in fancy shirts and trousers. Lando had the top few buttons of his shirt open, revealing his chest and the chain beneath.

It was rare they looked that fancy unless it was for an event. And, even then they wouldn't be at the same event. Y/N had to choose who she went with, going to one with Lando and the next with Daniel.

So, Y/N insisted they get a picture of the three of them, their arms wrapped around her as Lando kissed her cheek and Daniel also held him.

And then they set off, walking away from the villa and down to the old town. A couple of people recognised the boys, and Y/N was more than happy to take pictures of them with the fans. Some wished Lando a happy birthday, letting them go on their way.

They had dinner, sitting by the ocean as they drank and ate. "How are you feeling about turning twenty four?" Daniel asked as their food was placed in front of him.

Lando shrugged his shoulders. He'd been a little bit quiet for the entire day, enjoying himself, sure, but still quiet.

"Baby Lan," Y/N said with a pout as she grabbed his hand. "You know you're still our baby, right? No matter how old you get."

He gave them that blushy smile. "I'm not a baby," he muttered and Daniel laughed.

It was that kind of laugh where he used his whole chest, his grin splitting across his face. "No, chicken, you're our baby."

So Lando wasn't feeling great about turning twenty four, but Y/N and Daniel definitely made it better. They kissed him, held him close and wrangled him into bed in a mess of clothes tossed to the side and breathy moans.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo fluff #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dando #dando imagine #dando x reader #poly!f1 #dando smut #dr3 #ln4 #dr3 imaigne #ln4 imagine

[cobaltperun]

Lost (20) - Miracle

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 3.1k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Take a look around, it's you and me, it's here and now-

She should have been used to this by now, she should have known her life was going too well, that she was so happy and that the universe wouldn’t allow that.

“I’m sorry miss L/N, we’ve been instructed not to allow any visitors,” the officer told her and Tara had to take several deep breaths to calm down and not make a scene.

Her hand touched her stomach, knowing there were plenty of reasons why she shouldn’t stress too much. “I’m her wife,” she repeated, hoping there was some humanity left in this man and that he would let her through to you. She needed to see you, even if it was in this cold, dark place, even if you were locked up. “I’m carrying her child, please, just for five minutes.”

He looked down, and while Tara could still hide it, a closer look would reveal that she was, indeed, two and a half months pregnant. “Well, it’s not exactly her child, is it? Get out miss L/N, this is your last warning,” he sneered and came up to her, ignoring her glare and ready to shove her if necessary.

“We get it, we’re leaving,” Danny stepped between Tara and the officer, just to be sure nothing would happen to her. “Come on, Tara, he won’t let you see Y/N,” he pleaded, gently taking her forearm and pulling her outside.

Tara let him, she followed him, defeated. You’ve been locked up for three weeks and no one was allowed to see you or hear from you. And Tara? Tara only had Danny left…

She got in the backseat of the taxi and Danny gave the driver his address as Tara got lost in her thoughts. Things were so much simpler and happier just a month ago, in fact, everything was going well ever since you recovered, four years ago.

~X~  

You were being mean, laughing at her and handing her the inhaler at the same time. Jerk… “You needed me so much you couldn’t breathe?” you dropped down unceremoniously next to her and pulled her closer the moment she returned the inhaler to the nightstand next to your bed.

“It’s not my fault you went crazy after I called you ‘baby’,” she wasn’t sure she could move from the bed any time soon. At least it was clear you got your stamina back…

You leaned closer to her, kissing her just beneath her ear. “I remember hearing something else as well,” you reminded her, your tone low and slightly raspy and all the things Tara was weak to.

And she turned completely red when she remembered exactly what you were talking about. “You’ll never hear that again,” she ducked down, hiding her face beneath your chin and just wrapping her arms around you.

“Whatever you say, Tara,” she could feel you smirking, she could sense it! Damn you for knowing exactly how to get her worked up, and for making her call you… no… she wouldn’t even think about that. She’d forget it. She’d make you sleep on the couch if you ever mentioned it. Or maybe not that. She needed you to sleep well, so maybe she wouldn’t make you sleep on the couch. Forbid you from kissing her? No, she liked that too much to use it as punishment. She could sit somewhere other than on your lap?

Hell no!

She could take your car. Actually, that would get you to ban her from sitting on your lap.

She’d just make you play horror games without her. That’ll teach you.

“Say, Y/N, were you serious about wanting to marry me?” she asked, absentmindedly tracing random lines on your arm. You still haven’t recovered all your muscles, but she could feel them under her touch, firm and strong, and she was sure you’d be back in shape before the end of the year.

“Completely,” you didn’t even hesitate, you just hugged her a bit tighter. “I’ll do the whole proposal thing sooner or later, but if you want to marry me, then yes, I am absolutely serious about that.”

Tara nodded, smiling brightly. “I do want to marry you,” she kissed you, from your neck, your jaw, all the way to your lips. “I want to spend my entire life with you,” her lips met yours and she moved to straddle your abs. “I want to take your last name, to have-“ she suddenly stopped, just now realizing that was one topic the two of you never talked about.

“Tara?” you raised an eyebrow, confused by her silence.

“Do you want children?” she blurted out, because she did, she wanted at least one child, or two, maybe two would be better. Probably not more than two. She wanted to give someone a childhood she wished to have, as far as parents went. But even more than that, she wanted a family with you. Regardless of if it was just the two of you, or if there would be kids.

You kinda just… shrugged and now it was Tara’s turn to be confused. “Eventually, sure. I haven’t really thought about it, but I’m not against it,” you tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and Tara sighed in relief. “If you want kids, we’ll raise them together, if you don’t, it’ll be just the two of us,” you pulled her down for a kiss and Tara felt like melting.

She definitely didn’t want kids right away, she wanted to finish college, get a job, get married and then, eventually, when both of you felt you were ready, either adopt or get pregnant. That, however, was topic for another day.

“You know, it’s good that you called me-“ she shut you up with a kiss. She knew exactly where you were going with that, and she would not let you finish that sentence.

“Don’t you dare,” she warned you. You just grinned at her.

~X~ Three years ago

This was it. This was how you were going to have your second heart attack and drop dead. All things considered your panic-filled mind wondered if this could be considered suicide, because, all of this was your doing.

“I can’t,” you were pacing around the hotel room, not even daring to glance at the tiny box on the table. Oh, if a bird swooped in from the skies and grabbed it you would be the happiest woman alive, because you’d at least have an excuse to postpone this.

“Y/N!” Anika grabbed your shoulders and pushed, but she couldn’t get you to move. “Sit down you… mass of muscles and ridiculous strength only Tara gets to move!” she grunted and then just threw her arms up, and sat down herself. “Fine! Stand there!” she gave up. “If you don’t do this today, you’ll have to wait until next year, remember?”

You looked to the side, annoyed that she was right. Her hair was braided, and she was wearing a nice, bright and colorful dress Mindy was going to drool over tonight. It was December thirteenth. The second anniversary of your and Tara’s relationship and you were ready to propose. Which was why you were on an urgent business trip, Anika went back to her parents, Mindy and Chad had to visit their mom, and Sam and Danny would be taking Tara to a restaurant so she wouldn’t feel lonely, and you’d be making up for the urgent business trip tomorrow, when Tara turns twenty-one.

Which was all one big lie, aside from Sam and Danny taking Tara to the restaurant. There was no business trip, or trips to see parents, it was just the proposal.

“Or maybe, hear me out, I say screw important dates, and just randomly ask her one day?” you suggested, raising your finger to make a point.

Anika got up and began jabbing her finger above your chest. “You, Y/N L/N, are one of the best women MMA fighters, you lived through being shot, stabbed, impaled on a rebar, falling from a roof and won Sam’s approval to date her sister, which is probably the most impressive accomplishment of them all,” she told you. “You are going to go downstairs, dressed in that,” she looked you up and down and just stepped back. “that… let’s just say Tara is lucky, because, well, you dressed to impress,” and you did. You went all out, finding the best clothes for the occasion.

And then the phone rang and you saw it was Danny calling.

Afraid something happened you immediately picked up. “Yes?”

“It’s a disaster,” he opened dramatically, his voice filled with panic. “Tara won’t dress up!”

You felt the tension from all of this, all the pressure from wanting to propose to her, all the worry caused by his call, it all just vanished, and you felt like you could breathe again. “Dude, let her come in whatever she wants,” you laughed.

“She wants to come in your damn shirt!” he whisper shouted and you watched Anika’s jaw dropping as she heard that.

“So let her! Let my girl do whatever she wants, it’s her night!” you just sat down on the bed and couldn’t wipe the grin off your face.

“It’s a five-star hotel and she wants to wear an oversized shirt that looks more like a dress on her and jeans! She didn’t even do her hair!” and she’d look more beautiful than anyone else in this whole hotel.

“Yup, let her, just bring her here,” you sighed dreamily.

“Unbelievable, both of you,” he groaned and hung up.

You looked at Anika, still flabbergasted by what she heard, and then at your usual clothes. “You know what, Tara has a point,” you’d wear fancy clothes for some special occasion, maybe tomorrow night when you take her out not as your girlfriend, but as your fiancée.

“No! Y/N! I won’t let you!” Anika cried out, but it was too late now.

~X~

Dressing up… as if Tara wanted to do that tonight. You weren’t there, and she was basically being a third wheel on Sam and Danny’s date, so no, she wouldn’t dress up. She wanted to stay home, watch a movie, and wear your shirt so she could feel like you were hugging her.

Well, she’d see you tomorrow, so that was nice. Urgent business trips have happened ever since you opened your own company. You used the money you got from your retirement and ensured you could mostly work from home, but you still needed to leave every now and then to meet up with your business partners. Did it suck that you had to leave on your anniversary? Yeah, it did. Was Tara angry? No, just a bit lonely since everyone else seemed to leave as well, but you called her plenty of times today and she couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.

The hotel Sam and Danny took her to… well, now she felt a bit silly for being dressed so casually, especially since Danny went for a dark brown suit and black turtleneck sweater and Sam went through trouble of doing her hair and wearing a light green long coat with shirt and pants.

She walked in behind them, noticing immediately the hotel restaurant was empty, sure, it was expensive and all that, but completely empty? And several people greeted them and took them to the round table set up for six people, where Chad, Mindy and Anika were waiting already.

They were all dressed up, and Mindy was rolling her eyes when she noticed how Tara looked.

“Seriously Sam? You couldn’t get her to wear something else?” Mindy shook her head in utter disbelief.

“She’s stubborn, and well, the three of you didn’t do a better job anyway,” Sam muttered, further confusing Tara.

Several ideas were crossing her mind, but the table was set up for six people, and all thoughts of you somehow popping up were ruled out by that simple fact.

But everyone was dressed up. Anika was stunning, Jasmine looked just as beautiful in that red, slightly revealing dress and Chad went for a more casual, button up shirt and suit combination, and that worried her, because he loved dressing in a more casual way.

“Still the most beautiful girl in the room though,” her jaw dropped at the sound of your voice and she looked to the side as you came down the stairs, dressed just as casually as Tara, just simple, slightly tighter polo shirt and pants and a smile on your face as she ran up to you and jumped into your arms.

“What’s this all about? How are you here?” she wasn’t complaining, not in the slightest, she just wanted to know.

You laughed, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style to the table. “Well, I wanted to make this a bit fancier, but,” you looked down at her choice of clothing and grinned. “I think this suits us much better,” you lowered her back to her feet and guided her to the remaining free chair. “Tara Carpenter,” you went down to one knee and pulled out a box. “Will you marry me?”

Tara refused to cry, she wasn’t going to cry, she was absolutely crying as she fell into your arms and hugged you as tightly as she could. “Yes, a hundred times yes!”

~X~ Present day, March 2027.

The two of you got married on your third anniversary, exactly a year after you proposed, and last year you decided you’d try IVF and then, when Tara and you told Sam about it… well, that’s when it all started going downhill, as Sam grew more and more irritated and angry and would leave for several days at a time. Tara tried to be patient, but she was fearing an then you snapped…

~X~

Getting married didn’t change anything, Sam was still living with Tara and you, and her and Danny were still not living together. They’d spend nights together occasionally, but Sam never brought up the idea of him moving in, or her moving to his place. “Sam, please, just tell me what’s going on,” Tara pleaded when Sam once again chose to ignore how worried she was making Tara be.

“Nothing is going on,” Sam shut her down, not even once looking at Tara as she sat in your shared kitchen. You were out, buying groceries for tonight’s dinner, you and Tara wanted to make this dinner feel special, since it’s been a while since Sam was home for more than a few days. “Just make sure to take care of yourself when you get pregnant,” there was frustration in Sam’s voice that Tara immediately noticed.

“Are you angry at me?” Tara asked, not really having any ideas as to why Sam would be angry, but it just felt like she was.

“No,” and Sam refused to elaborate and in her anger and frustration reached into her pocket for her cigarettes just as you came back home.

“Drop them! Sam, drop them right now!” if there was one thing, just one thing that didn’t involve actually harming someone you loved that would make you snap instantly, it was someone who knew Tara had asthma trying to smoke near her.

“Baby, wait,” Tara got up, stopping you before you could take the cigarettes from Sam. This was already a volatile situation, Sam was frustrated, you were angry, and Tara needed to calm things down. “Let’s just go to our room, okay?” she took the groceries from your hand and placed them on the table, noticing ojo de pancha from a nearby bakery Sam loved at the top. She reached up, cradling your cheek and pulling you closer. “Do it for me?” she spent her entire childhood listening to her parents arguing, then to her mother and Sam arguing, she didn’t want to listen to you and Sam arguing as well.

You sighed, but nodded, ready to just let it be, until Sam spoke, her cigarette now lit.

“What are you two even thinking? What if Ghostface comes after us again?!” Sam demanded and Tara turned to look at her, at the fury in her eyes.

“Sam?” she called out, not recognizing her sister. She knew Sam was paranoid, but this much? “We weren’t attacked for over four years,” she tried to remind her as you lifted her up and took her away from Sam’s rage and from the smoke when you lowered her down you stepped between her and Sam.

“Tara has me, I won’t let anyone hurt her, or our child,” you said, for the first time in fifteen years you’ve spent as Tara’s best friend, as her protector, as the one person she could always rely on, the guard dog barked at her sister. “You included, Sam, so put that damn cigarette out before I make you,” you warned, your tone dangerously low.

You would turn twenty-six in a few months, and for the lack of a better word, you were at your peak. Stronger than even when you fought for the title, or when you fought against Thomas. Speed, strength, skill, all of that was as high as you could take it, and it was one of the reasons why you chose to start a family now, because Tara did worry about Ghostface coming back, and so did you.

Sam scoffed and walked out, and despite Tara’s pleas, she didn’t come back for a week.

~X~

Looking back now, it was like Tara was looking at herself from back when you first came to New York, only Sam was almost thirty and angrier than Tara ever was. When Tara found out she was pregnant, she wanted to have you and Sam there, but Sam just… left… abandoned Tara again, and no one, not her, not you, not Danny, no one could reach her. Tara’s life just fell apart shortly after Sam left.

Chad, Mindy and Anika left New York, Chad pursuing his football career, which took him to Miami, while Anika and Mindy formed a rising star duo, directing horror movies all over the country. So, her group was scattered, and while they all stayed in touch, Tara was only left with you as her constant. Danny was there as well, trying to be supportive while Sam was going through whatever she was going through, but it really was just you and her.

And then you got arrested, framed for murder you didn’t commit. And the victim?

He was stabbed.

A/N: Right, Tara is pregnant. I’m sure that won’t raise the stakes at all. Anyway, this is my Scream 7, I'm not watching anything unless Melissa and Jenna are back. Have fun with Lost season 2!

#tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream #jenna ortega x reader

[vampireloverz]

dancing with the devil

pairing: john wick x fem! reader

words: 2.5k

cw/tw: established relationship, age gap (vague but implied, more than a decade), size difference, reader wears a dress and heels, reader and john drink alcohol, public fingering, unprotected sex, au where reader basically takes helen's place, reader knows about john’s previous job, pre canon

You don’t know how you convinced John to go out dancing after dinner, maybe it was the bourbon that loosened him up, maybe it was the trail of kisses you left along his throat as you waited for a taxi. Either way, when the driver asked where to, John had said the name of some club nearby and you’d kissed him as a thank you.

Before long, you’re dancing to garish techno music, drink in hand. Bass rattling in your chest and your heartbeat in your throat as you sway and bob to the booming rhythm, all the while John keeps an eye on you from his seat at the bar. The neon lights strobing above occasionally illuminate him, drawing your focus to him past the throng of club goers every so often. 

A few people come up and dance with you; a pretty woman with dark lipstick and a wicked smile, someone wearing a shimmery top you like so much you make the effort to all but scream over the music to ask where they got it, a man who offers you one of his glow-stick bracelets with such drunken enthusiasm you have to accept, laughing.

Eventually jumping in place and bobbing your head to the beat has sobered you up a little, but you’re still pleasantly warm and fuzzy around the edges, smiling as you head back to John. He reaches for you as you approach and you take his hand, squeezing it as a silent thank you for indulging you and waiting so patiently while you had your fun.

“Hello, handsome,” you lean in so close your lips brush his ear as you greet him, “Care to buy me a drink?”

You pull back in time to watch his lips tick up almost imperceptibly as he nods, signaling the bartender over and ordering your drink of choice. You kiss John’s cheek as a thank you and sit on the stool beside him, his heavy hand finding its place on your thigh, curving around you easily. The drink goes down smooth as you curl your free arm around his, suddenly giddy with happiness. 

John turns your face to his with two fingers on the side of your chin, saying something you can’t quite hear but you can read his lips. You’re beautiful.

You let out a breathy little laugh that’s swallowed up by the music, heat rising to your cheeks as if it's the first time he’s ever complimented you. But you can’t help it, you cling to every carefully chosen word that falls from his lips. 

“Thank you,” you don’t bother projecting, he knows, and he leans forward to kiss you.

The flavor of bourbon is still strong on his tongue but you don’t mind the sting. His hand on your waist reminds you of the same sensation earlier today. Both of you tangled in his expensive sheets, the sun hitting his face just right to light up his dark eyes into rich brown, his lips leaving kisses further and further down your body…

You break the kiss to press your cheek against his, “Wanna get out of here?”

John pulls back and gives you a look, almost amused, and you laugh as you watch the cogs turn in his mind. He takes a long, thoughtful sip of his drink, emptying the glass and setting it down along with enough bills to pay for your drinks and then some. A thrill of excitement runs through you as you hop down from the barstool and John takes your hand. 

The crowd is dense but they seem to instinctively part for you two, a sea of drunken dancing split by nothing more than John Wick’s presence.

John rounds a corner out of nowhere right as you spot the exit, turning into somewhere quieter where the pounding bass turns into a pleasant thrum. You stumble into his back, disoriented by the sudden stop, but before you can question him, he spins, crowding you against the wall and kissing you. He kisses you with a surprising ferocity, a hot, hard press of lips with a small slip of tongue before he moves downward, kissing along the column of your neck as he palms your chest over your dress.

“John, what are you—?”

His hand is suddenly on your mouth, his palm to your lips as he orders, “Quiet,” as if anyone would hear.

Being cornered by John Wick sends a thrill down your spine, you suddenly feel high on adrenaline, and you know that this is only a minute fraction of what the people he dealt with at work feel. Felt. 

It’s not often you’re reminded he was out killing scores of people when you’d barely started high school. It’s a callus on his palm from gripping a gun, it’s old scars from blades and bullets, it’s the tattoos. The knowledge of it all, his strength, his age, makes this feel dangerous. Despite his past, maybe even because of it, you trust him. He’s never turned his deadly hands to you beyond giving you pleasure. 

You purse your lips to kiss his palm and his eyes soften just a touch, his hand pulling back to trace your mouth with his thumb. You kiss the pad of it, both your eyes locked as you part your lips, pink tongue barely peeking over your bottom lip. 

John lets out a small laugh as he feeds his thumb into your mouth, gently pressing down to feel the grooves of your teeth, the soft give of your tongue, “Don’t be too loud,” he whispers as his other hand pushes up your dress. 

You squirm when he cups your pussy, deft fingers tracing the line of your slit over the fabric before he slips his hand into your underwear. The warmth of his fingers as he slides them between your folds makes you gasp. John never takes long to find your clit, he’s always been impatient when it comes to your pleasure.

“You’re wet,” he comments, a little breathy and pleased.

“It's your fault,” you whine around his thumb.

Both of you make a pleased noise when he slides two fingers inside you, slow enough to have you squirming with impatience. John relents easily, pumping into you a few times to find his rhythm of slow, steady pulses before curling his fingers just the way you like it, the way you always beg for, you have to hold your breath to stop an indecent noise from flying out of your mouth. 

The laughs of some people passing by suddenly makes you remember you’re not alone. In fact, the two of you are quite exposed if someone takes a turn into the half-hidden halfway John had slipped you into. You gasp and lift your head to look at him, ignoring the fact that you feel yourself tighten up. John maintains eye contact as the voices draw closer and you blink, alarmed and aroused all at once. He stops pumping his fingers and you watch him make a decision. His fingers stay inside you, curled against the sensitive spot there as he presses the heel of his palm into your clit, giving you a single nod as you grind down into him.

“Yea,” he grunts, “That’s it.”

He takes his finger out of your mouth to cradle your head and press closer to you, hiding and muffling you as best he can as you shudder and press your face into his collar, moaning into it and breathing in his spiced cologne. The voices pass, leaving you both in semi silence and false seclusion. Your knees buckle, adrenaline making it feel all the more intense when your orgasm slices through you, shuddering and panting open-mouthed with your lips pressed onto whatever expensive fabric his suit is made of. 

He murmurs something you can’t quite catch over the ringing in your ears before he pulls out of your still throbbing pussy, circling your clit a few times with soaked fingers until you whine. The loss of his fingers makes you feel impossibly empty but watching him lick his fingers clean of you is a fair consolation. He lets out a small laugh at the expression on your face but you can tell he’s got it bad too. You’re half sure that if no one had walked by he would’ve fucked you here, or at least could’ve been persuaded to in the club’s bathroom.

“Let's go home,” John says, leaning down to kiss you. His dark hair falling around both your faces gives the illusion of privacy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

The look he gives you when you palm him over his pants makes you sure that you can get away with fooling around in the back of the cab ride back to your shared apartment. A new song starts in the club as the two of you leave and it feels like heavy bass pours onto the street, sticking in your chest until your cab is hailed and you both slip inside.

It’s late and traffic is to be expected, but you don’t mind because you can curl into John’s side and have your fun. He lets out a soft hum and drapes an arm around your waist, his hand around you tightening when you begin to loosen his tie. You play innocent at first, trailing your fingers along the column of his neck and down his chest, kissing his jaw when he shoots you a curious look. The cab jumps on an uneven patch of the road and your hand slips further down, past his belt until you’re palming him over his dark pants. 

You press a kiss to his neck when he stiffens, his strong hand tightening around your waist. A warning but not a sign to stop. His free hand curls into a fist as you trace the outline of his cock, rubbing your palm back and forth until he groans, low and deep enough for a car horn somewhere outside to drown the sound out.

John leans into you and utters a single word into your hairline, “Behave.”

Firm but not angry, far from it. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face, but you obey and move your hand away, placing it onto a more appropriate position on your thigh until your ride is over.

John’s hand is a heavy comfort on the back of your neck as you walk into your building, at this hour you’re the only people in the lobby besides the doorman. The elevator ride up is mercifully quick and it feels like it only takes a blink for you and John to be stumbling into the bedroom, neither of you willing to break the kiss.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching at his scalp when he slides his tongue along yours. He pulls away panting and presses his forehead to yours, both of you breathing each other’s air. One of his hands follows the shape of your body upwards until he can touch your chest, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

You let out a mix of a laugh and a moan as he pulls down the front of your dress, “I have some idea.”

John smiles against your lips as you kiss and he takes your tits in hand, holding the weight of them and squeezing gently. You sigh into his mouth when a callus scrapes your nipple, hardening it with each pass of his palm. 

“John,” you moan, shifting in place as the throb in your clit becomes insistent.

He hums thoughtfully, “Turn around.”

You do without question, looking over your shoulder as he kneels behind you, his hands steady on your hips. When you feel his lips on the back of your knee, you jolt a little, his beard lightly scratching at the sensitive skin there, but you’re more prepared when he kisses your other leg. John follows the curves and lines of your legs with his hands first, kissing your skin every few inches and only stopping when he reaches the hem of your dress. When he stands and touches your shoulder blade you think he’s going to unzip you, but instead he pushes you forward onto the bed, bending you over as he bunches and pulls your dress up over your hips.

“John!” you gasp, a short laugh bursting from your lips.

“What?” he asks like he’s not peeling your underwear down until it drops around your ankles.

You make a noncommittal noise and wiggle your hips, the emptiness in your core beginning to become almost unbearable.

“You’re beautiful,” you can’t tell if it’s because of your heels, your dress bunched around your hips, or just the way your ass looks when you’re bent over— but you decide you don’t care when you feel his cock glide through your folds, gathering your slick and nudging your clit, “Fuck, look at you.”

“Please, John,” you plea softly, “Fuck me.”

That punches a groan out of him, you feel the head of his cock push inside as he takes your hand. He slides himself to the hilt inside you in one slick thrust and it knocks the wind from you both. 

He sucks in a breath behind you and grips your hip with his free hand, his grasp firm as he starts to fuck you. John fucks into you deep and hard, rutting into you as pleasure washes over you both. You feel involuntary noises spilling from your mouth but you can’t think to stop yourself as you lose yourself in the rhythm of his thrusts. 

“I love you,” he grunts, fingers tightening on your hip as he goes rigid, his cock kicking inside you.

You groan into the pillows when you feel the hot spill of cum fill you, twitching every time his hips roll forward and his cock knocks against something tender inside you. It feels like forever before he finally slides out. You both give twin groans at the feeling, but you’re placated by his kisses along your shoulders. You drop your weight onto the bed, ignoring the way John laughs under his breath, and mumble something in half hearted protest as he starts to unzip and slide your dress off you, unclasping your bra and slipping your heels off your feet before he lays in the space beside you.

“Let’s clean up,” he suggests, reaching for you as you shimmy closer to him.

“In a minute.”

Resting in the easy silence, John traces your hairline and you feel the mess between your legs spill onto your inner thighs, hot and sticky and satisfying. You sling your arm over him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt with uncoordinated fingers so you can feel him. Your fingertips follow old scars until your eyelids droop and you rest your hand on him, the beat of his heart comfortingly steady beneath your palm.

“We should go out dancing more often,” you sleepily murmur.

John kisses the top of your head, “Whatever you want.”

#john wick x reader #john wick smut #📝 — john wick #💒.txt

[ficjoelispunk]

Has the cat got your tongue?

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. Reader.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, guns, shooting

A/N: Well, I usually translate my fics, so this is a translation, English is not my first language, so I already apologize for mistakes, or confusions in the translation. This is my first Oneshot, I hope you like it. ❤️

As soon as you sucked the last sip of your drink, you looked around the bar looking for your friend, a faithful squire, when your eyes parked on the image of Jessica being cornered by no one else, none other than Javier Peña.

Obviously, at that moment, you were no longer fully aware of reality, as soon as the department ended the work, everyone had the brilliant idea of drowning stress and fatigue in some drinks. You didn't use to drink, so you settled for a single drink. Now holding a delicious non-alcoholic orange drink with tonic.

Jessica was are you roommate, and like always you were together. You decided to go straight to the pub for happy hour, and now it was past 10 p.m., so no doubt Jessica would already have her neurons cushioned.

You watched from afar the most scoundrel man in the department - yes, it is Javier Peña -, flirting with your best friend, and she laughing like a fool falling into his conversation.

Immediately you get away from the group of people you were talking to, walking towards Jessica and Javier.

You reach her arm, entering the middle of her and Javier, noding hard at him, turning to face her.

"Hey, girl! Time to go...”

Javier stands next to Jessica, looking at you. You had to look up to make eye contact with him.

"I can take her home" Javier put his arm over Jessica's shoulders.

“Absolutely not”

"Okay, if you want to join us, the invitation extends to you too, you will be welcome"

You open your mouth, surprised by the audacity of this man. You smiled ironically, shaking your head, while looking down.

“Come on, Jessica, let's go”

You help your friend get off the bank in front of the bar counter. She had definitely managed to send the stress and fatigue far away - after God knows how many - shots of tequila.

"Wait" Javier holds one of your arms "we were having a good conversation here, weren't we beautiful?" He speaks seeking Jessica's approval.

She is soft in your arm, completely drunk, the weight of her whole body under your responsibility.

"She is not in a position to say what it is or is not, a good conversation, if you will excuse me"

"Your jealousy? Calm down, sweetheart, you’ll also have your opportunity."

You hear a choir behind you doing a "wooow" by the agents who were with Javier. Automatically this arouses a ferocity in you, your eyes narrow for Javier. You feel the blood boiling in your body, radiating adrenaline into you.

It was as if he challenged you and you accepted. Put Jessica's arm on your shoulders so that she balances herself on you.

"Oh, honey… Do you think every woman wants to fuck with you, Javier? For God's sake, look in the mirror. You think you're hot, but you're forgetting a small detail, you have a huge list of women for your collection, which you pay for them. They're just doing their job. Has it ever occurred to you that they don't like you, but your money?"

Javier is paralyzed. It was as if the sound of the bar was diminished, and only you spoke inside the environment.

"What is it?" Do you provoke him "Has the cat got your tongue? You are so self-centered that you can't take the blood from your cock, and use your brain to really conquer a woman, you prefer to buy them. But there are some women who are not for sale. Grow up, little boy. Start acting like a real man."

Now the choir was for you. The agents were fervent. Javier was paralyzed. You turned your back and walked with Jessica out of the pub.

The wind outside the bar refreshes the fervent temperature of your face, calming the blush that your little discussion with Agent Peña installed on your cheeks. Your eyes started looking for a taxi but there is no car available in front of the establishment.

"Maybe we need to walk" Jessica said, sounding totally drunk.

You sighed. Jessica leaned against the wall. And he took one last look checking if there was no car arriving, usually they were waiting for the passengers in front of the pub, but today. No.

"I can take you"

The voice behind you, made you jump into a fright.

Javier.

"No, thanks" You talk while you were looking for a card from a taxi you had already taken, to call him.

"Look, you're not going to get a taxi now, and you live upstairs of my apartment. It’s dangerous to stay on the street at this time, and it won’t be a big deal... So..."

"Please, I need to go home... it's no big deal, let's just go home, please," Jessica murmured.

"God!" You close your eyes while throwing your head back.

Sigh.

"All right. But, it's just a ride. Understood?"

Javier arched his eyebrow. And he indicated the Jeep. You helped Jessica get in the car, and Javier opened the front door for you.

You two faced each other for a while. Without knowing, without understanding, if that was a favor, or if it was some provocation, you two were with the guards on alert and would not lower anytime soon.

Despite that, Javier was loving the idea of you being in his car. Breaking all the contempt you insist on showing whenever he is around.

Javier helped you take Jessica to the apartment, you took her to the room, and he stayed outside the apartment.

"Thank you"

He nodded. And turned around.

You were going to close the door but you hesitated.

"And..."

When Javier heard your voice he looked at you over his shoulders.

"I'm sorry if I was very rude to you earlier today... you pissed me off"

He smiles crooked.

"I deserved that"

You nodded. And closed the door.

Had I made too much effort to climb the stairs and there was little oxygen in your brain? Or were I starting to think Javier is handsome?

You chose the first option.

***

A few weeks later.

Your shift had ended earlier, and as today was Jessica's day off and she was the only one who had a license to drive in Colombia, you decided to leave walking, so as not to disturb your friend's rest. The apartment was not far from the base, and you really needed some time alone.

You walked down the street, distracted. Colombia was a colorful country, there were many colors on the streets, in contrasting with the war scenario that the cartels and politics waged at the time. It was hot, it was a hot day in Medellin. But sometimes the breeze hit your face, refreshing your body. You were with your eyes closed feeling the wind messing up your hair.

"Hey"

You opened your eyes. Turning your head towards the sound.

"Hey! Get in the car"

Javier had the car leveled on the sidewalk, driving to follow your step, glass lowered, looking a little nervous, gesturing for you to get into the car.

"Why?" You frowned, confused.

"Get in the fucking car" Javier was screaming, looking away from you to look into the rearview mirror. "Now!"

You held the strap of your bag, stopped walking, looked back.

Javier saw three men walking faster towards you, through the rearview mirror.

"Get in the car! Get in the car right now!" He screamed louder.

You saw the men taking out weapons that were hidden under their shirts.

Your eyes snapped, Javier was already out of the car, slipping through the hood of the Jeep, opening the passenger door, and pushing you into the car.

There was a shot. Your whole body contracted, tripping into the car.

Javier shot in the direction of the men. Running to the driver's side.

You lowered your head in the car.

"What's going on?" You asked with a slightly shrill but trembling voice.

"Where are you coming from?" Javier spoke loudly. While driving.

There were more shots towards the car, one of them hitting the rear window of the car breaking with the impact of the shot.

You screamed putting your hands in your ears.

Javier got his hand on your head, forcing you down, to protect you from the shots.

"Stay down. Where were you?" He was screaming.

"Stop yelling at me, I'm right here, next to you"

"Where were you?" Javier ignored your request.

"I... I... I was at the base"

You felt him making a sharp turn, your body being thrown to the side, he removed his hand from your head, to hold the steering wheel. You raised your head little by little, your hands still around your ears.

"Where are we going?" You asked, feeling the tears that you didn't even notice formed in your eyes, running down your face.

"I'll take you to a safe place"

It took you a moment to process the information.

"Wait, do they know where I live?" You held the sides of the seat, while Javier drove aggressively.

"Probably" Javier was attentive, looking everywhere.

"Jessica is at home, we need to get her out of there," you said a little desperate.

"Your safety first"

"No!" You said louder, "We need to go get her now!" You were holding the dashboard of the car now.

"If you didn't get home they know you won't be there, they were after you, not her, I won't put you at risk! You need a safe place"

You didn't understand what was going on.

"Put on your seat belt" Javier looked at you.

It was difficult to move, your body was rigid, he seemed not to obey your commands. Your hands were shaking, your breathing was completely irregular, only now you were becoming aware of the reactions your body had. An icy tingling ran through your body.

Slowly you managed to lean against the seat, you pulled the seat belt, but couldn't connect to the lock, Javier pulled the beam of your hands and locked the seat belt for you.

"Why were they after you?" Javier asked.

You shook your head.

Javier looked at you, completely overwhelmed by the state of shock.

"Sorry, I yelled at you. Did I hurt you?"

Tears flowed persistently down your face. You tried to contain them with your hand, while shaking your head at him, unable to speak.

"I hurt you when I put you in the car?"

You shook your head for him.

"Look at me" Javier asked, the voice calmer now.

You took a deep breath a few times, but obeyed his request.

Javier was studying your face.

"It's okay. You're safe now. Nothing will happen to Jessica. All right?"

You nodded to him.

Javier takes the satellite phone from the car console, his fingers agile dialing a number.

"Steve, I need you to go to Jessica's house with a patrol, there were three armed men in the region, they fired shots, there may be people hurt, maybe they can invade the apartment"

He made a silence.

"Yeah…” he looked at you “I don't know, but take her to a safe place"

And it hung up.

"Thank you"

He nodded.

"Do you know why they were after you?"

You shook your head.

"I have no idea..." you looked out the window for a moment, then looked at Javier again, "my father, he has political involvement..."

Javier looked at you.

"Political involvement? And why are you working on it?" He arches his eyebrows, his eyes snaps.

You frowned.

“Because I need to work to live?! My father is a politician, not me"

Javier shrugged. He kept thinking about how you could live a luxurious life, without having to work, just enjoying the money. But you decided to work. Worthy or did you just want to prove something to someone?

Peña parked in a motel. You tilted your body over the dashboard of the car to observe the location. Is this the definition of a safe place for Javier Peña?

"Sorry, we don't have any five-star option” Javier said as he got out of the car.

What is the need to be so annoying?

Already out of the car, he gestures for you to get out of the car, while lighting a cigarette. You go down, looking to the sides.

"Why are we here?"

"You need a place to stay," he said under his shoulders.

"I'm not going to stay here alone"

Javier looks back.

"We have no other option, until I can do the legal procedures and can request protection for you, no one will look for you here"

"No, so take me back to the base, I'll stay there, no one will look for me inside"

Javier looks at his feet, and puts his hands on his waist.

"We don't have time for this, come in, before someone sees us"

You sigh. Scared. Looking around.

"I don't want to be alone, I'm scared," you murmur, crossing your arms in front of your body.

Javier runs his hand over his face, scratching his nose.

"Ok. I'll stay with you"

You looked at him. Not that it would comfort you. But with him?

You scratched the back of your neck. Thinking about the alternatives.

"Let's go, come on" Javier pulls your shoulder, directing you through the enter of the door, his hand gently pushing your back. Without giving you many choices.

You continue with your arms around your body. While Javier checks in and picks up the room keys.

Wait. Room. One room?

Javier walks towards the stairs, goes up the first floor, unlocks the door.

"Go inside, lock the door, only open it if you're sure it's me, I'll be right back"

He gives you the key.

"Where are you going?"

He snaps his eyes at you and shakes his head. Ok. He wouldn't tell you where he would go. Because he doesn't owe you satisfaction. Because he's an idiot, insensitive.

"Close the door."

You enter the room, Javier is waiting for you to lock the door. You hear his steps moving away after hearing the second turn you take on the key.

The bedroom has a sofa. And a bed. Only one, with a mirror on the ceiling. But that's okay, because apparently he was going to leave you alone. And fuck if you're shitting yourself with fear. Fuck that there were armed men willing to shoot you, behind you. Fuck you.

Javier was Javier, and he didn't care about anything, just himself.

Never, not even in your worst nightmares, did you think that one day, you would be at the mercy of Javier Peña. There was no way you could get out of there, without him saying it was safe. There was nothing you could do but wait. Wait. For Javier.

The world really turns around.

The TV didn't work. There were no magazines. There were no books. You wouldn't leave the room. That was it. There was no food. There were no clothes if you wanted to take a shower. There was nothing. Nothing, just you. Your concern. Affliction. Nervousness. Anxiety. And fear. Oh, and of course, red and blue neon lights in the room. You rolled your eyes.

Three knocks on the door.

"It's me" the voice was familiar.

But was it correct to believe that it was safe to open even if it was him, and if he was accompanied, being threatened? Would it be prudent to take a test?

"What did I say to you on the last night we met?"

"Well, there were a lot of things, sweetheart." He took a break "but my favorites are that: I think I'm the verraco. That I can't think because my blood is all on my dick. And that I should start acting like a real man"

Ok. If he were being threatened, he wouldn't have been able to think of all this.

You unlocked the door.

Javier was leaning against the door, a cigarette on his lips, with several bags in his free hand.

You made the way for him to come in.

He put the bags on the bed.

"Did you talk to Agent Murphy? Is Jessica okay?"

"Yeah, Jessica is fine"

Javier looked at you, his eyes going down to your feet.

You crossed your arms.

He indicated with his head the bags on the bed.

"I bought clothes if you want to take a shower. There are some snacks if you're hungry. Water, beer and cigarettes"

You walked reluctantly to the bags. You opened some. Really, he had bought you clothes. Pajamas, pants and t-shirt, and... what? It can only be a joke!

You took it out of the bag holding with your fingertips, a black lace panties.

"Seriously?" You asked him.

Javier seemed to have fun, a funny expression on his face.

"I thought it would look good on you" he smiled.

You threw the panties at him.

He held back laughing.

“You pervert!"

You took the bag of clothes, heading to the bathroom, which, ridiculously, there was no door.

You grunted, Javier heard, stretching on the couch. Having fun.

"You stay there, and don't you dare come here until I authorize it"

"Yes, ma'am"

You turned on the shower, and took a quick shower. Javier heard the sound of the water stop, the shower turned off. He stretched out to look at the bathroom. He saw your silhouette wrapped in the towel, your wet hair, your legs, your bare shoulders, it was as if something burned inside him. His cock contracted in your pants. Making him fix it in his underwear. Straighten up on the couch.

Javier remembers perfectly the day he saw you for the first time in the department.

"She is not for your tipe" Steve said, while Javier almost broke his neck looking at you.

"I like to vary" he said.

Steve laughed, pushing his partner's shoulder.

Javier knew he would hardly have a chance with you. First, you hated him without much explanation. Second, you had a negative image of him, with your reasons. Third, you were a beautiful woman. Soot face, with strong and sensual features. Hairy lips, perfect hair. Intelligent, sophisticated, polite. He knew you wouldn't give him a chance. But since you were here, he would not miss the opportunity to do the only thing he could do with you, and successfully provoke you.

You wore the pajamas that Javier brought you - without panties - which had not yet been decided if it was good or bad, the fact that Javier knew that you were not wearing underwear. Or if by chance it was, it was the one he had chosen.

Javier was concentrated reading some papers when you left the bathroom. Shorts and tank top, the thin fabric of the pajamas following the curves of your body. He had never seen so much of your exposed skin as you is now. Your skin looked soft, smooth. He wanted to be able to run his hands through your body. Smell it. Kiss your nervous mouth. Make you feel good. Relaxed. Put you in his arms, make you get to where no other man wanted to have dreamed of. He was capable of that. He knew it. This was one of the qualities he was most proud of.

"What are you looking at?" You made him blink.

"You"

"I know, but why?"

Javier hesitated and turned his attention to the papers, without answering you.

You sat on the bed.

"When will I be able to leave here?"

"As soon as we get adequate protection for you, or we can find out why they were behind you, or when we can catch the men who shot you"

"Ok. And the estimate is of?"

Javier looked at you.

"I don't know, cariño. I'm doing what I can. You should rest"

You nodded.

Dictating yourself in bed, ignoring the mirror above you, pulling the pillow for you to hug and rest your head.

You heard Javier moving some bags, opened a beer. You would certainly take a long time to sleep. He was focused spreading the papers on the coffee table. At one point, you heard the water from the shower. You heard the click of the bathroom light going out.

"If you want, you can lie down on the other side. Just, don't... you know..."

He laughed.

"I'm going to stay on the couch"

"There's enough room for two"

"Do you want me to go to bed with you?"

You sat down, looking at him, furious. Javier smiled, having fun.

"No, I just think it's fair for you to feel comfortable. But now, stay on the couch."

"Believe me sweetheart, I would be more comfortable on the couch than lying next to you"

You frowned.

"What do you mean?"

He laughed, shaking his head. He didn't answer you.

Only then did you realize that he was wearing shorts, and a T-shirt. Stuck to his body, marking the broad shoulders, the muscles of the back.

You closed your eyes, biting your lips, trying to keep any invasive thought out of your head.

You lay down, angry, sinking your head into the pillow wanting to scream. What had you done to deserve to end up in a motel room with Javier Peña?!

You can't tell when you fell asleep.

But at a certain point, you felt someone holding your face. You started screaming for help. Now your arms didn't move. You fought hard to untangle yourself, let go, and push what was holding you.

You heard your name, several times being called as a background.

You recognized that voice. You screamed for help, it was Javier.

"Wake up, cariño, you're dreaming..."

You kept struggling to let go. But the weight of the person's body prevented you from moving.

"Wake up... babe.. wake up"

You opened your eyes, panting.

Javier was on top of you, with his knees around your hip, holding your arms next to your head.

Your chest was looking for oxygen.

"What..."

"You were dreaming, I think… Saying something, asking for help, when I tried to wake you up, you... are you okay?"

You were still trying to breathe. Javier was letting go of your arm.

"I... I... did I hurt you?" Since he held your arms... it was an acceptable assumption.

You started looking at his arms, ran your hand through his skin, felt the marks on your nails.

"I'm sorry, I... I..."

"It’s okay... are you okay?"

Javier was on top of you, his body big, strong and hot, heavy against yours. Looking at you deeply, worried.

You looked into his eyes, scouring his face, and for some reason, your eyes went down to his mouth. Your lips have separated.

Javier tilted his head to the side, a crooked smile.

"Are you going to answer me? Or has the cat got your tongue?"

Now, you no longer knew if your breathing was irregular because of the nightmare. Or for having Javier like that, so close. Touching you. Touching so much of you. Creating a discomfort in your body, a pain forming in the middle of your legs, in need of relief.

Javier smiled, and slowly approached you, still looking into your eyes. Your eyes fixed on his lips. As if begging for him.

"Yes" you murmured.

Javier went down until his lips touched your ear. You closed your eyes.

"Yes, what?" He murmured, with his lips rubbing against your lobe.

Javier felt you squeezing each other's legs under him, desperately looking for relief.

"Yes" you murmur "yes, I'm fine" you opened your eyes, the mirror reflecting the muscles of his back.

Javier comes back to look at you with a malicious smile. You are so close that you can touch your nose against Javier's nose.

"Good. You can use words, that's a good sign"

Your hand involuntarily touches his arms. Rigid, muscular, strong.

Javier closes his eyes with the feeling of your soft fingers tracing irregular paths through his skin. Going up the biceps. Gently. You feel his skin goosebumps.

Javier's head hangs, resting on your shoulder. His warm breath, panting, radiating on the skin of your chest.

You bite your lips, imagining what his mouth would be like on your breasts.

Your lips meet his ear.

"And you? Can you talk?" You murmur.

Feel his mustache pinch the skin of your shoulder, in a smile.

"Sorry cariño, I can't take the blood from my dick, and send it to my brain, so that I can say something coherent now..."

You laugh.

Turn your head a side, Javier's lips meet yours. The soft of his lip in contrast to the mustache that scratches your skin, your lip. You tilt your head so that your noses fit, your mouth opens up to him, and Javier finds your tongue to wander, moaning in you. Knowing your mouth, your taste.

While he kisses you, Javier leans on one arm, his legs release your hip, you can bring your legs out of him, slowly he presses himself against you, pressing your clitoris with his thick length, making you gasp.

His lip separates from yours.

"Is everything okay?" He asks pantingly.

"Yeah, don't stop" you pressed your lips on his again.

Your arms rise to curl around his shoulders, your hands merge with his hair.

Javier begins to move his hip, rubbing his cock, on top of where he knows you are writhing with desire, your body moves with his, at a perfect pace, Javier's free hand slides down your thigh, falling on your hip.

Slowly his fingers meet the hem of your shirt, and he dips his fingers inside it, in contact with the skin of your belly, he feels you tense yourself to his touch. Needy.

You don't stop rubbing yourself against his cock, looking for a friction that releases the growing pain of your pussy squeezing around nothing.

Javier raises his hand until he finds your breast. You moan, while for the kiss, to look at his fingers under your T-shirt massaging your breast.

"Take it off" Javier speaks in a low, serious tone, making you feel your pussy wet, ruining the fabric of your shorts.

You pull the T-shirt by your arms. Getting naked. Your exposed breasts. Your stiff nipples.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen" Javier speaks with both hands on your breasts, squeezing, while the lips pass through their skin, his tongue, until he sucks one of your nipples, his tongue dancing carefully, more exciting the pulsating nerve of your pussy.

Your fingers intertwine his hair. Your body arches for him. While he changes to the other breast. And repeats the same action in it.

You moan. Moving in him, looking for his cock.

"Javi, please, I need to..." you moan.

"What do you need, bebita?"

"Touch me, I need you to touch me"

Javier smiles.

His fingers circle the elastic of your shorts, you join your legs in front of him, he slides the fabric out of you. You open your legs to him.

Javier's hands slide through the skin of your thigh.

"Jesus Christ… You are so beautiful" he says as he looks at your shining pussy “fucking hell”

He takes off his shirt and his shorts. Releasing his dick. You lean on your elbows. You had already heard about Javier Peña's cock, but live, like this, it was something you had never seen before, it was beautiful too, big, the biggest you've ever seen, thick, it’s leaking precum already, the veins really occupying all the blood of his body. You smiled. You wanted to put it in his mouth. Feel how he would look inside your mouth.

You sat down, crawling towards him, as if you were hypnotized. The lips open, the tongue in the middle of the teeth.

"No, no," Javier held your chin.

You almost pouted.

"Another time, now I want to make you cum, so I can sink my cock into you..."

His words were like direct closes to your core. It was as if you were drunk by Javier Peña.

He bent down, fixing himself in the middle of your legs. He put your knees on his broad shoulders. You looked in the mirror, the image of Javier in the middle of your legs.

His fingers went through your greeting, you moaned. He circled your entrance, bringing your wet to your clit and sliding his finger in circles in your bundle of nerves, sending small spasms through your body.

Javier studied you, observing where he touched and how your face expressed itself with the pleasure that his touch provided, it didn't take long for him to understand where he should press, and how he should do it.

He slid two fingers into you, you closed your eyes, the feeling his fingers opening you, your hands went to your breasts, running your fingers through your nipples.

"Beautiful, you're so tight, goddammit..., relax, just relax for me..."

Javier bent his fingers inside you, pressing your inner wall, reaching a delusional point, when you felt his tongue in your clitoris, you moaned loudly. Your hand came down to hold his hair.

He was relentless, moving his tongue on his clitoris while his fingers built your orgasm.

You felt the pressure forming and the more Javier moved in you, his tongue moving in your clit, it was more difficult to hold, until you exploded in spasms of pleasure, came around him with a strangled cry.

Javier waited for you to come down from your orgasm to slide his fingers out of you.

"We don't need to do anything else, if you don't want to," he kissed the inside of your thighs.

You put a hand on his face, wiping with your thumb the stains you left on him. Your thumb slid down his lip.

"I want to" you murmured the voice still recovering from the pleasure of a few seconds ago “I want to tell you”

Javier smiled. How could he deny it?

He settled in the middle of your legs, you felt the weight of his cock on your pussy, and immediately opened your legs more.

Javier lay down on you, leaning an arm next to your head. The other went down in the middle of their bodies, to position his cock, at his entrance.

He kissed her lips. Take it. While rubbing his cock on you, still sensitive to your orgasm, moaning, and moving your hip to find him.

“So eager” Javier murmured.

He puts his cock at your entrance, and starts to sink into you. He is so big, you feel a pleasurable burning as his cock comes in and fills you.

Your lips open, you touch your forehead on his, holding his arms, watching his cock sink into you.

"Hermosa, you are so..." he moans a heavy sound "tight"

“Fuck!” You gasped while he was sinking into you. He could feel every detail of your muscles stretching around him “Fuck you feel... you feel...”

“I know cariño” holding himself inside you as he gave your channel a moment to adjust to the size of him. “Fuck, I know…” 

Javier begins to move, before he even reaches the end. You put your hands down to his hip and pull him against you. Getting more into you. You need to feel full of him. You need it all inside you. A sharp and pleasurable pain dominates you, when he is totally inside of you.

Your lips move around his neck, slightly biting his shoulder.

"Javi..."

He was getting used to being inside you. But you were desperate for him.

"Javi, I need you to move, I need to feel you moving inside me..." you murmur panting to him.

He smiles with a sigh.

"I like it when you call me that" he whispers in your ear "ask me for anything like that, and I'll do everything for you"

Sliding his cock on you. Almost leaving completely, and coming back to the end. At first slowly. But when you intertwine your legs around his body, Javier begins to increase the pace. You feel it stronger, sinking into you, your hips meet. The obscene sounds that their bodies make.

Javier kneels, and raises your legs between his shoulders, somehow causing him to get deeper into you. Sliding in faster movements.

The way he left your leg, tightens your clitoris, making you move looking for more friction. He realizes it. Pressing his thumb on your clitoris with your free hand.

"I want to feel your pussy come for me, c’mon Hermosa, doing so good, taking me so well…” 

Javier starts to get more desperate with his movements inside you, more irregular. He presses his cock deep on you, making you moan loudly, without you being able to control, you melt again on him, the body shaking while he fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release.

He sinks more often, deeper, pressing against you, increasing your orgasm.

“Where? Tell me where...” he asks panting.

“Inside me” you murmur almost tearfully.

"Fuck!" He sighs “take it” with a tortured moan, holding his cock at the bottom of your pussy, you feel his cock pulsating on you, filling you, spilling onto his balls and legs before he was even finished coming. 

Javier lowers your legs, and lies on you, kissing your lips. Your hands around your face. The bodies calming down, the breaths organizing, you feeling it soften inside you.

"Do you usually have a lot of nightmares?" He asks, moving your hair away from your sweaty face.

You smile.

He comes out of you, pulling you to lie on his chest. You fall asleep like that, intertwined.

In the morning, Javier fucks you on the bathroom wall, pushing your body over the tile, squeezing your neck with one hand, while the other squeezes his fingers in the flesh of your ass so hard, that they will leave marks. His dick in this position hits places you didn't even know were possible. You moan loudly at the feeling of him inside you. Stretching your tight walls around him.

Javier receives a call informing you that an escort will come to pick you up. You would almost like it to take longer.

When they knock on the door, Javier holds the gun next to his body, slowly opening the door. He frowns.

"Agent Peña" Ambassador Crosby is at the door.

"Ambassador" he nods to the boss.

"Thank you for taking care of my daughter, you saved her life"

You watch all kinds of emotions go through the Agent's face. Fear, surprise, panic, doubt... he looks at you with his eyes half closed.

You smile gently, faking a false innocence.

"Yes, Daddy. This man is my hero" you say, standing on your toes to hug him, "you are running down my legs" you whisper in his ear, move away to give a small kiss on the cheek of Agent Peña who is now petrified. "What is it, Agent? Has the cat got your tongue?"

Ambassador Crosby, gives friendly slaps on the Agent's shoulder, going out the door as his arms pass through your shoulders, you look back and winks at Javier who is now with his mouth open, still paralyzed.

A/N: What would your best friend, Jessica, think about the fact that you stayed with her suitor? 🤭

#pedro pascal #narcos #narcosoneshot #narcos fanfiction #oneshot #javier pena x y/n #javier pena fluff #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena one shot #javier pena narcos #javier pena fic #javier peña #javier pena x ofc #j

[greg-montgomery]

Your love is in trouble

pic by: @masterwords

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: You agreed to go on a date for the first time after breaking up with your boyfriend, Aaron - it’s not going well.

based on this post <3

Warnings: angst ❤️‍🔥 lmfaoo

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hitting the shuffle button after picking a playlist to keep you company while getting ready turned out to be a huge mistake. You can never know if your and your ex’s song might randomly play, making you cry - just an hour before your first date with another man.

First date: first in every sense of the word. Your first date with this Ryan guy, your first date after him. Him, Aaron Hotchner, your Aaron, the man you had been trying for months now to get over.

You felt embarrassed, using a q-tip to fix your mascara, as the tears started to fill the corners of your eyes. This was a first date, you should have been smiling and dancing to happy songs and giggling while texting your friends about Ryan. Not crying over your ex-boyfriend, again.

The song was still playing and you knew you should have just turn it off, but you hadn’t let yourself listen to it in so long, and deep down you wanted to let yourself drown in your memories of him. No matter how much it hurt.

You stared at Aaron as he put the pizza in the oven. Two years and you still couldn’t get enough of his broad shoulders. As soon as he turned around, you walked straight into his arms and pulled him into a tight hug, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

The romantic song that was playing in the background fit the moment perfectly. You started whispering the lyrics against his skin, meaning every single word.

“This song reminds me of you,” you said. “Of us.”

He didn’t answer immediately, you guessed he was paying attention to the lyrics.

A few moments later he finally spoke. “We should dance to it then.”

Aaron took your hand and gave you a little spin, before pulling you against his body, swinging both of you slowly to the rhythm of the song.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too, honey.”

“It’s really growing on me,” he said, referring to the song. “We should dance to it on our wedding.”

“Aaron!” you whined, and let your head drop on his chest.

He chuckled and pulled you closer, always loving seeing you flustered.

You would never forgive the two of you for ruining the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to you. You let work schedules and stupid fights get between two people in love.

The sound of a notification from your phone disturbed your thoughts. It was your best friend.

Ready for tonight? :)

You sighed, and dropped the phone on your bed. She was the reason you had agreed to go on that damn date. “You can’t cry over him forever,” “It’s time to move on, my love,” “If you don’t give him a chance, how will you know?”

The fact that you felt pathetic and lonely had also contributed to you saying yes. Maybe Ryan wouldn’t be that bad, after all.

Except he was. Well, maybe not bad. But he wasn’t Aaron and you made the mistake of comparing Ryan to him in every one of his moves.

He didn’t pull out your chair like Aaron always did, he got offended by your sarcastic comments instead of replying with the same energy, he didn’t fight you when you offered to split the bill, and he didn’t insist on driving you home himself. You figured he got mad because you declined his offer to join him for a drink to his place and that was why he didn’t even wait for you to call a taxi.

For some reason, though, you hadn’t called a taxi yet. Instead you were standing outside the restaurant, staring at a contact you hadn’t dared to call in a very long time.

“Honey 🧡”

Okay, maybe it was toxic that you hadn’t changed the name of his contact yet – or that you hadn’t deleted it at all – but you had never claimed to be perfect.

You took a deep breath and called his number, fast, so you wouldn’t have time to think this rationally and change your mind.

Aaron answered your call even faster.

“Hello?”

Your eyes closed at the sound of his deep voice. You had missed him.

“Aaron?”

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

There were a lot of things you could have said, but talking with him broke your heart all over again, and you started crying; your sobs making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Can you uhm…can you come pick me up, Aaron?”

“Tell me where you are.”

It was impossible for you to stop crying, so there were still tears in your eyes when Aaron arrived and parked his car right in front of you. You got in quickly, doing your best to avoid eye contact.

The car smelled like his cologne; a comforting scent to you, helping you to calm down.

He started the car, without saying a word. You didn’t dare to speak either, but you could tell by the direction of the car, he was driving you home.

“I was on a date,” you finally said.

His knuckles turned white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Did he do anything to you?” he asked, coldly.

“No.”

A deep sigh escaped him, and it was clear that it was a sigh of relief.

“Why did you call me, Y/N?”

“I miss you,” you admitted. “I was crying about you before my date. I am crying now that it’s over. I’m tired.”

Aaron was silent and you felt panic taking over your body. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. Or if there’s someone in your life-”

“There’s no one else,” he cut you off.

You wished you were a profiler like him; to be able to read him and his reactions. Was he angry? Was he annoyed? Was he over you? Closed off Aaron was your least favourite Aaron. You wanted to know him, to understand him.

“Aaron, talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, frustrated.

“How you feel!” you said.

“I’m upset you called.”

“Okay,” you said, softly. “I understand.”

His silence was driving you crazy, so you spoke again. “Thank you for coming even though I upset you.”

“I’ll always come when you call,” he answered. How could he say such sweet words with such a cold tone? You missed the days where he’d call you his love with a voice sweet like honey.

When you finally arrived at your place, Aaron got out of the car first and before you even had the chance to unbuckle your seat belt, he was opening the door for you.

Standing in front of him, you finally looked into his eyes. Yours were shinning with tears still, and you swore Aaron almost said something about it.

“Well…thank you again. And, I’m really sorry for upsetting you. It was immature of me to call you like that. It’s just been hard, you know?”

Aaron simply nodded.

“Okay…goodnight then,” you said, defeated, and turned around.

But as you did, you felt Aaron wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling you back and into his arms.

You let yourself break down completely, your face buried in his chest. His arms tightened around you, and you thought you could stay like that with him forever. It was safe and warm in his embrace, so you cried and sobbed while he rubbed your back in soothing circles.

“Shh…” he said. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you begged him.

“I won’t. I promise, my love,” he promised, and pulled back just enough to finally kiss your lips the way you’d been dying to.

“Let’s go inside, okay?”

“Okay.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #hotch 🪐

[seancekitsch]

Hi if you're open to requests: could you do an Adrian x fem reader with the premise of them having known eachother in highschool and sticking together as ostracized weirdos. Reader leaves evergreen after graduating HS and comes back 10 years later and runs into Adrian. I love your writing and how you characterize Adrian!!

hi hi hi i hope you enjoy this it got away from me and now its a full blown fic

A Homecoming

warnings: best friends to strangers to lovers, gut chase is his own warning, maybe ooc, angry drunk sex, bad speeches, love confessions, angry fluff if that makes sense, happy ending even tho both idiots are in their bag down bad

“How the fuck did Laura meet Gut Chase of all people?” you whisper to yourself as you pick out produce to stock the fridge of your Airbnb. It's a crappy one bedroom house on what was once the nicer side of town, the side with lovely little suburbs away from all of the apartments and trailer parks that people turned their nose up at. You remember those noses turned up at you for your lovely little apartment that you called a childhood home. Now it feels freaky to be on the other side, in a rancher in a suburb with cute little pinterest craft-esque decor on the walls and a Friends reference as the wi-fi password. Fucking yuck.

You never expected to be back in Evergreen after high school, especially not for a wedding. You flew across the country for college to basically avoid this very situation, but here you are. Your college roommate who got a job in Seattle bringing you back to your home town to marry easily the biggest douche from your high school. Your invitation to the fifteen year reunion came in the mail and was thrown directly into the trash several months ago muttering about how they even fucking found your newest address, and then the fuckin save the date from Laura came behind it. You’d known Laura was dating some gym trainer, you knew she said he was from a small town. She’s always been one to fall fast and hard, and you can count on more fingers than you've got the amount of times through college and grad school she had cried over a failed date with “the one” before getting back in the proverbial saddle.

You fondle an onion and think about the last time you saw Gut Chase. It was… the morning after your graduation. The morning you left for Gotham. He was sat at the breakfast bar of their house sipping coffee and raising an eyebrow at you trying to sneak out of his house for once instead of into it. 

Now having taken that trip for the first time in reverse, your long taxi ride from the airport to the airbnb felt like a death march. You’d left behind so much and burned any bridges that could have been left here.

June 2008

“The guys are never going to believe this.”

“Dude, you’re not telling any guys about this,” you laugh, wrapping yourself around Adrian’s torso, the lean muscle taught under his skin as he laughs with you. You weight dips and moves on the trampoline below you, the stupid double wide sleeping bag doing nothing for your back, especially after you’ve been standing in heels all day and sweating in your graduation cap and gown. 

“But then I can finally tell Gut and Chris it’s just that I’m a late bloomer! And if I don’t tell them it was you they won’t believe me!” Adrian exclaims, not at all worried by the open windows of his own house or the other backyards that the dawn is going to slowly creep over. You roll your eyes, your best friend always consumed with impressing his older brother and his friends. 

“That's not a thing. Isn’t it enough that we had this?” you ask, you cheek pressing into his bare chest. His legs tangle in the early summer heat under the cheap sleeping bag.

“No!” He exclaims, laughing like you should be in on it too, but you don’t laugh with him. Your virginity was never important to you, it’s just that everyone else in Evergreen sucks. He’s the only one that you would have deemed worthy anyway. 

You figured: You leave for college tomorrow, he’s the best person you know, and he’s hot even if he doesn’t know it. You’re both virgins- or- you were until you dragged him out into the backyard around two in the morning after passing back and forth a bottle of peach schnapps that he had been arguing about with you all night until he figured out it tasted like candy; the party his older brother hosting in yours and Adrian’s name very quickly became not about you and about him and his friends who had graduated a few years prior. 

Tomorrow you’ll be a month away from being eighteen and across the country by yourself and you haven’t told anyone but your mother, but it hasn’t quite hit you yet. It can’t when a sticky condom was thrown across the yard twenty minutes ago, and That’s Not My Name by the Ting Tings is bass boosted and floating in the air from the house, and Adrian Chase just gave you your first orgasm. 

“Maybe it is,” he admits, his voice now heavy with sleep. You don’t know when he falls asleep, but you leave before he wakes.

Your hand shakes at self check out, wondering if Adrian and his brother patched things up enough to be a groomsman. Laura made you a bridesmaid over FaceTime, talking your ear off about how much Dorian wasn’t her normal type but when you know you know, you know? And even then it never struck you to remember that Gut’s real name is Dorian. Maybe you’d be paired up, and maybe Adrian had changed enough in this span of time to forgive you and look you in the eye. You don’t count on it, honestly, you expect him to throw a fit the second he sees you. You don’t blame him for that hypothetical reaction either. It’s been over a decade with two degrees six terrible boyfriends and only one friend who ever came close to how special Adrian was for you. And now she’s marrying Adrian’s dickhead brother.

Its only a few minutes after you load the dirty old fridge of your airbnb (definitely only getting three stars, the place is sketch) that you phone rings, Laura’s contact illuminating the dull lighting of the kitchen. You put her on facetime while you load the pantry. 

“BITCH!” she screams, her smile illuminating a dim screen as her voice cuts through all of the loud background noise, “Where are you?”

You laugh, tossing the veggie chips into the back of the pantry.

“Where am I?” you scoff, “I’m at my Airbnb, I was about to throw on a bad movie and drink some wine. Where are you, Miss Bride?”

She puts the phone up close to her face, only her eye showing as she fake whispers into the mic.

“I’m at Hooters,” she confides like its the funniest secret.

“Oh, with Mr. Groom?” you ask, teasing her as you reach for the bottle and the corkscrew, one of the few amenities left to you in the drawers. 

“With tha whooooole wedding party,” she draws out the words without taking the phone away from her eye.

“You had their LIT’s, didn't you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“And I just bought one for you,” she confirms, “So you better get an uber or I’m going to switch out your bridesmaid dress for an Aquaman costume.”

“You slut!” you shout, swiping up on her call to obey her and pull up uber, “You wouldn't. Aquaman is such a chump.”

“So get over here!” she laughs, and it's infectious. God, you've missed Laura. Sure, you facetime twice a week, but she lived with you for six years and it's like losing a hand to lose her being just a few layers of drywall away at all times. 

“I am, I am! Its ordered,” you assure her, and a comfortable silence settles, she sips her drink, her hand clawlike to hold both hers and yours so she can hold her phone in the other. 

“You know he fucks the fish, right?” you ask.

“You're the second person to say that tonight!”

The uber to Hooters is quick, thank god. The bright lights feeling harsh on your skin and you really wish Laura hadn't threatened you with the costume. It’s manipulation at its finest. You had the most recent kissing booth movie right there ready to be made fun of over your coffee mug full of wine. But no, you have to stand around in a Hooters in your hometown. Youre flooded with relief, however, when you walk past the hostess stand and clock that theres a touchtunes machine in the corner so you can at least entertain yourself with awful song choices. You know who would love hearing the Monster Mash followed by Call Me Maybe? You and Laura. Especially after she tries to pour that LIT down your throat the moment she sees you. 

“There she is!” Laura shouts, helping you tilt back the glass immediately. It's just like college again, your days back in Gotham where you’d wander away from the college bars and see how much liquor you could get for your money. 

“Mm, holy shit,” you cry out, barely able to down the drink in one go, “That's how you snagged your groom?”

She crinkles her nose at you,her blonde hair falling in her face as she leans in close.

“He happened to like my squat thrust, I know I have to work harder than that to win you over,” she quips, and you rub your nose with hers before pushing yourself out of her arms reach. 

“Now where is he? Who are these bridesmaids I’m sharing my spotlight with?” you ask, letting her lead you further in towards the bar. 

Gut Chase himself meets you halfway across the restaurant.

“Y/N!” He shouts, “You’re kidding me! I thought Laura-girl was joking when she said she knew you.”

“Gut!” you shout back, surprising yourself that you're actually sort of happy to see the familiar face. He pulls you under his bicep quickly, ruffling your hair as if you were his little sibling. 

“She was so weird after she got kicked off the cheer squad,” he explains to his fiancee, “She spent all her time in my basement with my little brother! This one lived with us.”

“Oh, Adrian?” she asks hesitantly trying to remember his brother's name , and something weird twinges in your chest.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, your voice and your breath practically leaving you. 

Is he here? Does he hate you? Does he miss you? The first few years without him were tough, you would turn to tell him something or think of something funny you had to say and it all just had to float into the wind, forgotten. Then Laura sort of filled that gap. Then your D&D group. But the Adrian sized hole can only be squeezed into, never full filled, never a perfect fit. 

“Yo, Adrian!” Gut calls out before you can stop him, “Get your ass over here!”

Gut releases his grip on you and a man across the bar looks up from his phone. 

And it's like time slows down, and as he slides off the barstool “Foxy” by Jimi Hendrix floods the air like that scene in Wayne's World. Its like he moves in slow motion, his sweater doing nothing to obscure his physique and muscles, his glasses doing nothing to hide those beautiful eyes of his. He's changed so much, but not at all, just filled out what was already there. You're not sure if it's the LIT or the sight of him that's making your knees feel like they’re buckling.

“Why is she here?” Adrian asks his brother, his posture straight and tone unreadable, and Gut gives him a warning look. You almost pity Laura that you didn't brief her on on your intimate knowledge of the family she was marrying into.

“Bro…” Gut warns him, less than subtle. You've seen this before, but in high school, Gut would have just hit Adrian already or called him a pussy.

“Hey, uh, Gut? Sorry, Dorian?” he turns his attention to you as you correct yourself, “Why don't you take my dear Laura for another LIT? I could use another one too.”

Laura looks at you like you've got three heads for commanding the situation, but gladly lets her fiance lead her back over to order another, whispering to you that she’ll bring yours on Gut’s tab. 

Adrian stares at you, looking you up and down, sizing you up… not sexually, maybe… maybe? Wouldn't be the worst thing, he’s always been handsome to you, but he's really filled out. 

“Why are you here?” he asks you directly, his knuckles turning white around his beer. 

“I….,” words fail you for a moment, breath hitching in your throat as a million things want to spill from your lips. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always regretted leaving you, I wanted you to come with me, I wish I took you with me, I compared even the stupidest tinder date to you, I want to make you laugh, I loved you since I was a kid, Even Laura doesn’t get me like you do. 

But you don’t say any of that. You can’t. 

“I’m here for the wedding,” you say, holding it all back even though you could collapse into his arms at any moment. 

“Me too,” He says, “Only I’ve been here and who knows where you were.”

Okay; you deserve that snark from him. 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

An understatement of the century but it’ll do for now. If you say too much, you’ll cry. You cannot cry in a Hooters. 

“Or say goodbye?”

“I know, I’m sorry for that too. I’m sorry for everything.”

Adrian’s arms fall around you, the cold heel of the bottle of the glass digging between your shoulder blades as you lean into the hug against him. It feels like home being in his arms again, only now the arms are filled out with muscle and he

“I’m sorry too,” Adrian offers, but there's no real emotion behind it. You can tell he doesn't really mean it; an empty thing to say just because he thinks he should, but that doesn't bother you.

“There's nothing to be sorry for, “ you console him genuinely, your hand rubbing up against his henley covered bicep. 

“I know, I’m just saying that. I’m not the one who abandoned my best friend. Now I have a new best friend!”

You pull back, not at all upset because you expect that too, and at this moment Laura comes back with your LIT. 

“For courage,” she whispers not at all subtly in your ear before kissing your cheek and running back to her fiance. 

“Why do you need courage?” Adrian asks, not pretending he didn't hear that.

“Cause I never should have left… and you look really good.”

It's definitive, it's out there. You can't and you won't take it back for anything. It's the truth. You love Laura and the fact that you met her but you absolutely should not have left Adrian to do it. 

You take the straw to your mouth and suck, not pulling away from Adrian, instead your hand still around his back clawing into his sweater to keep him there. 

“You look really good too! Pretty, because women don't like being called hot.”

You dont know where he got that from, but you accept the compliment nonetheless. 

“You know, I was really mad at you for like a year, but then I just got over it, I figured you were trying to teach me some weird lesson about missed opportunities or acting out part of some romantic comedy but then you didn't come back and… I’ll shut up now,” he says, misreading your attention on him as a bad thing. 

“I wanted to call you back,” you admit, “But how do I call you and say: Hey, I’m in Gotham now! Even though we were supposed to get dinner tonight I guess I wont be making those plans. I didnt know what to do.”

“I could have come with you!”

You both know thats a fucking lie. 

“I’m glad I got to see you,” you offer, the words so bittersweet on your tongue. His eyes search your face, and you realize then you probably should have re-applied some make up. Its set into your face from the flight this morning and all of the errands you've run. You probably look like some kind of victim. 

"Me too, because honesty I've thought about that night a lot. I've tried to rank where it falls between all the threesomes I've had."

Weird flex, but, okay.

"I do too," you admit as you grab the straw for another sip, "not the threesomes thing, but I think about it... about you."

Something about Adrian's gaze has you open and honest, moreso than you would normally be with a man. But then again, Adrian isn't just some man...

“Finish that,” he tells you, his eyes zeroed in to where your lips and the straw connect. You obey, drinking what you can before putting the glass down on the nearest empty table. 

“Adrian I-” You get cut off by his lips capturing yours; Adrian kisses you with a passion you haven’t felt in fucking years, the passion of someone who actually cared. Sure, you've had boyfriends and girlfriends, but none have kissed you like this. 

Instead of hot and bothered you feel cold… and wet.

“Adrian, what the fuck-?” you whisper when you can break away, something dripping down your leg. His beer spilling as he tilts the bottle carelessly to grip you better. You break away from him to shake the beer off of your jeans, a puddle forming on the ground. He scrambles to right the turned bottle and place it on the same table as your LIT.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m not good at understanding people,” he admits to you as if you didnt spend all of high school attached at the hip, and this time you kiss him, your hands coming up to cup his clean-shaven jawline.

The next thing you know, you're back at your airbnb, having Irish goodbye’d to Laura and Gut and without meeting or talking to the rest of the wedding party. Youre being a bad friend and a bad bridesmaid and you know it. You hadn’t had the chance to ask Adrian why Gut was so friendly to him, though Laura might have a hand in that. You hadn’t had the chance to ask where he worked, what he liked to do, who Adrian now was really. 

 Adrian’s mouth barely leaves yours the second the door is closed, instead backing you quickly into what he correctly guessed is the bedroom of the house. His reflexes are sharp, unlike the awkward teen he was, and he knows how to perfectly steer you to your bed for the next week.

You walk backwards awkwardly until your calves meet the boxspring unceremoniously. He tilts you back until you fall on your own, your elbows catching you as he follows suit and crawls on top of your figure. You don't know where the confidence comes from, but then again it had fifteen years to form in him. Adrian pulls off your shoes and your pants quickly as he moves up the bed, not even trying to hide his prowess, moving like some kind of well trained machine. He’s come to impress even though he's done more than that by simply not snubbing you or telling you off in the middle of a Hooters, although both would have been deserved.

But you; You feel like you're back out on that trampoline again, your graduation dress pushed up around your waist, all too bare under him. No time has passed, it’s all so familiar -

“I should hate you” he states, his lips hovering over your navel, “But it's weird, I don't! In fact, I feel like I should be thanking you. If hadn't left and rejected me so hard I wouldn't have gotten so buff and good looking.”

“You should hate me,” you agree, your breath and your words feeling lost in your chest under the weight of him on top of you. His lips travel from your navel to your ribcage, pushing your shirt up as he goes, leaving a trail of fire in their path. You arch your back into his motions, your hands helping him pull the shirt off, awkwardly shuffling until you can fling it to some random corner of the room. Adrian’s eyes widen when he sees your bralette, mesh and flimsy and hiding nothing from him.

He pulls one of the dark blue mesh cups down, immediately latching his lips around your pert nipple, sucking and earning a sharp inhale of breath from you. He chuckles against your skin at your reaction to him, and then does it again. Cocky asshole. You can't help but compare this to the trampoline. He was so unsure, fumbling and almost tearful at the fear of fucking something up. You led the way, urged him on. Adrian now needs no urging, no guidance in making you squirm beneath him. His lips release your nipple, and he bites down at the top of the swell of your breast, sure to leave a mark. Youll have to remember to put a spoon in the freezer tomorrow morning or else you could end up with a wardrobe malfunction for the wedding. Cocky bastard, you think, leaving his mark on you. 

But really, he’d left so many marks on you that still havent faded. Its the way your ringtone from high school never changed, its the way you bought only the brands of locks Adrian said were best for each apartment you've had, its the way you buy things in teal if theres the option. Your fucking spatula back home is one of his many marks.

“Ah!” you yelp when his bite gets a little too hard, your perfectly manicured fake nails digging into his back. Adrian laughs again and pulls himself up to reach your neck, his hands exploring everywhere they can, teasing at your chest, your waist, your hips. 

“Fuck me,” you plead as his lips connect with the pulsepoint on your throat.

“Youre sure?” He asks, “You know, you shouldn’t fuck someone who should hate you. That's just asking for complications.”

And although he gives you an out, he’s already gone back to kissing and licking at your throat and groping at every curve of your body. You're thinking with your pussy, not your mind right now. You know there should be a conversation instead of whats happening right now. Maybe some tears shed, maybe a nostalgic movie and some honest explanations on your part. 

But you don't initiate any of that.

“Then fuck me like you hate me,” you say instead.

Adrian grinds his jean clad length against your core, and you whine, girlish and high pitched and embarrassing. He shushes you, removing himself from your grasp to yank off his sweater and undershirt, then his jeans all discarded over the edge of the foot of the bed. 

He moves to you, working your panties down your legs until you can kick them off the bed at your ankles, and sheds his boxers with them. His eyes follow the trail of your legs to your center, already dripping and ready for him. 

“You really want that?” he asks, and it sounds rhetorical. You didnt know Adrian could do that. He traces his calloused hands up the insides of your thighs, letting his fingertips tease you where you need him most. You nod fervently, arching your back to try to reach him, bring him closer.

“Please?” you ask, wanton and pathetic under him. He draws his thumb between your folds, testing the metaphorical waters. He draws low, anticipation laced moans from your lips, teasing and slow. 

And then without warning pushes two fingers into you. 

Your gasp echoes against the cliches wall decor, rattling the glass of the live laugh love frame, shaking the flimsy bedframe. 

He does not start slowly, no, he gives you no mercy in his motions, his smirk teasing and taunting you as he thrusts his hand.

“Adrian, I- Fuck!” you struggle to find the words, your hands moving to his forearms and digging your nails in, trying to hold on for dear life. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks. Fuck, you didn’t know Adrian could talk like this. And to think, you could have had this the whole time if you just stayed here. 

“Yeah,” you whine, “Yeah, please.”

You're not sure what youre begging for. To cum? To feel him? You just want more. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you want,” he leans down like he’s going to kiss you, and then instead nips at your lip before pulling back. Its cruel. 

His fingers move in, out, in, out, inout, and then slow to a halt inside you. You squirm under him, needing him to do anything. Anything. 

“I can feel you squeezing me,” he says, and you flush in embarrassment, neediness and heat settling in your chest.

“Adrian, I need you,” Your voice sounds far away, underwater, foreign to your ears. Who is this person? How and when did you ever get this needy, this desperate? His smile grows, but it does not give you any comfort. 

Adrian removes his fingers from you, lifting them up to his nose to smell them.

“Like fucking candy,” he remarks, and pushes his boxers down, easily discarding them. 

He leans back down, his weight on you once more. A weighted blanket, a comfort as his chest presses against yours. You kiss him, the way a smoker needs a cigarette, pulling and all consuming; your hands find purchase in his hair, your body fully reactive to every tiny movement of his lips against yours. His tongue sweeps across your lips, easily parting them the same way he easily parted your legs. He moves against you, rock hard in the crux of your thigh, his big hands holding your hips in place as he finds his way. Adrian probes along, pushing his hips in slow teasing motions until he finds his rightful spot at your center. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he whispers between kisses, and you brace yourself against him, foreheads touching and his glasses fogged. 

He pushes into you with a groan, bottoming out and giving you the grace to adjust before he starts to move.

Adrian’s hips rock you, the whole bed, your whole world, your hands tighten around his curls as they pick up in pace, the rhythm of the bedframe banging against the bed punctuating each of his movements.  He picks up his pace quickly, and you move in time easily, rolling your hips to meet his with each thrust. 

“Fffffuck,” you stutter, losing control of your lips, your tongue, both moving of their own accord and saying shit. There’s a war in your brain, part of you wants to stay in control, wants to make sense of this; the other side wants everything Adrian to overtake everything you. 

“I’m gonna make you hate me,” he repeats, switching up his angle to make your next moan a pitiful squeak in your throat. 

“You,” you gasp again, “You said that.”

His hands roam the geography of your body, mapping each curve and dip of you, not missing a single centimeter. Everything he touches turns to flame, hot under him and hot under his touch, pushing you closer and closer to your boiling point. 

You won't last long, you know that. Adrian moans above you, dragging his lips against the corner of yours as he moves, closer and closer.

And then he pulls out. You whine at the missing contact, the chill that sets in without his heat in your orbit. You pout, lips messy and swollen. 

“Turn over,” he demands, moving his finger in a circle to demonstrate his intention. You obey quickly, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. His hands land first on your ass, smacking both sides of your cheeks and whispering “hell yeah” in a tone you're definitely sure you weren't supposed to hear. His hands then slide from your ass to your hip, then to your back. He unclips your bra and lets the straps fall down your shoulders.

He bends down over you, letting his chest press into your bare back as he presses a kiss to the space where your neck and shoulder meet. 

“Down, girl,” he says, as one of his big hands starts to push your shoulder down until you cave into his movements, folding into the bed until your face hits the pillow.

Fuck, all control of the situation you had, you’ve lost. The ground crumbling out from under you and Adrian can mold and manipulate you any way he wants to, and you want him to. 

His free hand strokes down the curve of your back, and then leaves you, only to position himself back at your entrance. 

“Oh, you look beautiful like this,” Adrian sighs, sounding strained. You've always trusted Adrian to be honest, and you can believe he means it, like he would worship you face down ass up.

He presses his length into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, a glacial pace until he’s fully sheathed. 

Adrian wiggles his hips when theyre fully against your ass, and you huff in laughter, giggling into the pillow before he silences you with a rough thrust. 

This new angle feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but in a way that you want to feel over and over again, in a way that makes you feel breathless and alive. The next thrust and the one after that leave you gasping and struggling for air, the ones after it drawing high pitched whines into the silk of the pillowcases.

He pistons into you quickly after that, like a man with something to prove. He presses his full length into you each time, and each time hitting a spot inside you that has you feeling fuzzy and hot all over. His hand returns to your hip to  guide his motions and yours. 

You chase your high, rocking back into his thrusts and meeting each of them half way. Your moans are swallowed in the silk, wrapped and buried down deep into the mattress, rooted in him and the moment. 

“How am I doing?” he asks, and sensuality gone from his voice, but thats just Adrian.

You moan in response, his fingers digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent moons in your skin that would last far into the morning.

“Close,” you manage to squeak out, your voice barely audible, but Adrian picks up on what you're trying to say. 

“Yeah? You wanna come on my dick?” he asks, but doesn’t give you a choice otherwise. Adrian moves his hand from gripping your hip to between your legs. His fingers circle your clit, just the right amount of pressure to make it feel like you're about to snap. 

“Please,” you whine, arching your back further into the friction.

“Let go, baby, let go,” he coaxes you, his lips against your spine and you finally give in to him. 

He slows and kisses your shoulder while you ride your high, whispering praise against your skin as you shudder beneath him, his whole frame bent over yours. His hand leaves your clit and both come up to hug around your waist, anchoring you to him and the world and bringing you back down. All you can think of is that you could have had this the whole time. Fifteen years of this. 

But then he returns to his former position, the hand on your shoulder returning there as he picks up the pace again. It stings when he starts to move, but not terribly. A soothing burn that you find yourself rocking back into without a second thought. 

“Where can I?” He asks through gritted teeth, lifting his hand off of your shoulder so you can lift your head up. 

“Inside,” you answer, voice still muffled by the pillow, "I'll get plan b, there's always a coupon for that shit."

“Got it,” he confirms, and then speeds up his pace again. This time his hips are messy, without rhythm as his body meets yours, his voice uncontrolled as me moans without restraint. 

Even overstimulated and tired, you rock back in time to meet him, moaning each time his hip bones meet your ass. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna-” he stutters, and pulls back unceremoniously, heat streaming and filling you only seconds later. You shift slowly, trying to get your knees out from under you. 

Adrian stops you though, one of his hands a soothing comfort on your hip to guide you to a comfier position as his other hand dabs a tissue from the bedside on your back. 

He cleans you off remarkably gently, moving over you to throw himself down on the blankets beside you, his head hitting the empty second pillow. Your back feels sticky and cold, but you don't mind at all. You turn your head so at least one one your eyes can peek out at him from where you lay spent and tired, a mess of sweat and spit and butterflies in your stomach. He lays in a similar state, breathing deeply with a lazy smile across his features.

It feels right.

“Stay and cuddle?” you ask, voice wary from use and the need for sleep. You feebly move your hand toward him, reaching out to straighten his glasses.

“Sure,” he says, “But I won't be here when you wake up.”

He puts his big arm across your back, and where you should feel the familiar warmth you only feel ice. 

“Really?” you ask, but fuck, thats a mistake. You shouldn't say anything. It's an instant realization you don't want to hear anything he’s about to say. 

“It’s what we do, right?” Adrian says it like it’s a joke, but there’s venom in his words. It drips through, from his teeth to yours, and sinks in. 

He pulls you close, his actions not matching his words, and snuggles in, his hot breath fanning out against your face. His eyes close and he lets his body relax quickly. You try to do the same, but you end up staring at the ceiling fan, trying to think of any reason why Adrian would actually stay. You don't know when you fall asleep, but it's long after he does. 

True to his word, he’s not in the airbnb when you wake up. Just cold sheets and an empty glass of water and a half eaten green apple on your counter. That's all to signify he was even here, that you and your best friend had a sleepover after fifteen years. No real evidence, no trophy, not even his phone number, not even a cup left in the sink for you to clean when you do the dishes. Even the marks of his nails are fading away into nothing.

You deserve that, you think, all of Adrian’s talk of hate fucking of course wasnt a joke. When had he ever not said what he meant? He’d always told you what was on his mind, no filter and often TMI. But that doesnt stop the tears that fall, the streaking of last night's mascara down your cheekbones and the messy foundation you didn't take off. 

True to your words last night as well, before you even brush your teeth you order a plan b kit from Doordash. Now you wait, and wallow. 

It comes quickly, you take it, you feel no different.

You lay on the couch, the bed feeling weird and wrong now that it's been used and abandoned by Adrian. It's definitely going to be a long week, you think, and you debate trying to contact the airbnb host to see if you can check out early. Maybe you can take a rental car up to that town they shot Twin Peaks in and stay at the hotel or something. 

This was a mistake. All of it. You shouldn't have let Adrian kiss you, you shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have wanted him. You shouldn't still want him. 

Your phone rings. Laura.

“Holy shit,” she sighs, her voice shaking, “Can I ask you the biggest favor?”

You have nothing to lose at this point, besides your comfort in the stilettos she has you wearing for the bridal party.

“Yeah, whats up?”

“I need,” her voice breaks, and you can tell it's serious. 

“Whoa, what do you need? I’ll drop everything,” you interrupt and reassure her, and it's not like you had anything scheduled but self pity until the rehearsal tonight and the dinner at Fennel Fields afterwards. Laura’s not someone you've ever liked to hear or see cry, because she never does so unless she has a good reason. 

“Gina’s plane got delayed,” she explains, “You remember Gina?”

You remember Gina well, Laura’s best friend since diapers, your Adrian basically. She was the maid of honor and you were basically second in command to her. 

“Babe, I know Geen,” You remind her. Gina gave you your first pot brownie.

“Well her plane got delayed and she's stuck in Metropolis on her layover until the morning of the wedding and then she still might miss hair and make up but she's not here for the rehearsal dinner speech and I don't know what to do,” Laura sucks in a desperate breath, “I don't want to cancel the dinner speeches I know Dorian's best man had a plan.”

“You don't have to,” you tell her, “You made me second in command.”

“I know, I need you to write a speech if you can.”

At this point you can tell Laura is crying on the other end of the line. 

“It's done. Don't worry your sexy little face about it,” you comfort her, not really thinking about what you're signing yourself up for but your undying loyalty to her taking over the rational thought in your mind. 

“That doesn't make sense,” her voice is still watery, but you can hear the smile through it.

“Hang up on me and go make out with Gut,” you tell her, “Leave the amateur hour to me.”

And she does just that, whispering her thanks to you as she cuts herself off. 

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

This fucking speech, your saving grace of a distraction. Fuck, fuck, fuck what do I say? You think. You wrack your brain on what to say, you practice, you write line after line in green glittery gel pen on a piece of stationary you found in the homes kitchen. You treat it like a stand up set, ‘yes and-ing’ yourself to death to try to think of something that doesn't sound stupid. You've never been in a long term relationship that was ever actually going anywhere. You're so incapable of wording what love is…

No, thats a lie you tell yourself. The words come easily now, the words flow like water from a fountain. 

It's not clear how you're going to go through the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Knowing Adrian will be in the same proximity as you; Knowing that with Adrian one kiss is too many and a thousand is never enough. You want to bash your head against the wall, but instead you save your airbnb fees and focus on doing your hair and makeup and getting dressed.

You look at the dress you brought for the rehearsal, one of two garment bags hanging on the top of the closet door. Your bridesmaid dress; an olive green, low cut, with a soft flowing skirt. And then the dress for tonight, one that was already in your closet at home from your thrifting as a broke college student; navy vintage polyester taffeta, with an extremely tight square neck bodice and a tea length skirt that puffed out. You had sewn a comically big pink heart with white lace into the bottom of the bodice a week after you had gotten it. Laura came home to you sitting with fabric and thread strewn across the floor of your shared apartment. You knew this dress was a memory between you two, and that's why you picked it for tonight. Putting it on alone is a little difficult, but you manage. The only thing Laura asked out of your comfort zone was that all bridesmaids wore silver stilettos. Fucking evil, but you throw those on the passenger seat of your rental car. 

You crinkle the paper with your speech in your hand as you clutch it against the steering wheel, and pull out of the driveway of the rancher.

The rehearsal goes smoothly, but that wasn't the part you were worried about. You only wrinkled part of your skirt under your sweaty hands but for the most part it was salvageable. You're walking with one of Gut’s coworkers, a nice guy named Mike who has also never been in a wedding before and he’s easy to use as a distraction from those green eyes you can't stand to feel on your skin. Laura is happy and that's what matters. That's what you tell yourself every time your smile falters.

You avoid his eyes at all costs as you enter the back room of Fennel Fields, taking your seat next to Laura’s mother, taking the Maid of Honor seat and looking at the fixed course menu after a polite hello to the woman who helped you find a Gotham apartment without remnants of fear gas in the venting. Adrian sits at the table diagonal from you now, a slight relief from the onslaught of him and everything about him. Your clammy hand reaches for the menu, passing it to the waiter nearby after clarifying that everything looked fine with no substitutions; everyone does the same and you try to keep yourself preoccupied by any means necessary to avoid that gaze. 

Champagne is poured and you want to drink it down, want to take the edge off in any way possible. 

But you don't. You can't. The note in your dress pocket prevents you from doing that. 

Gut’s best man goes first. He gives a lovely speech, you figure. He talks about how Laura and Gut are like puzzle pieces or something and how she’s been such a light in his life. It's odd to think that Gut’s friends know so much of Laura, that she’s become one of their group. Her other bridesmaids are even Gut’s friend’s wives and girlfriends except for you and Gina and one other girl, her coworker at this new job.

 You keep your eyes trained on him, and on Gut and Laura. They look so in love, so genuinely happy. Fuck, its beautiful. 

“So I’ll end this trainwreck on a toast. To the lovely Bride and Groom: may they make their honeymoon flight, and not lose their luggage!”

You laugh, whispering a cheers before tapping your flute on the table and finally sipping champagne yourself.  

Now it's your turn. On unsteady legs, whether from the stilettos Laura has you wearing or your emotional state, you rise from your seat and pull the grossly crumpled piece of paper from your dress pocket. 

The microphone gets passed to you and you steel yourself to do your best stage face and voice. Give them senior year at Gotham University’s production of Miss Julie.

Here goes nothing.

“Hi,” you start, clear and confident, “I’m not Gina. I’m sorry, I wish I was.”

Laura’s mom and a few of the wedding party laugh. You don't look at Adrian.

“And to make matters worse, I’m not even qualified to give this speech.”

You earn another laugh, this time from more people, and Laura snorts and slams her hand down on the table. She can correctly guess how you screamed in your airbnb trying to write this, having watched you struggle through editing stand up sets for years. She knows you probably talked to yourself in the mirror to get this right. 

“I’ve sabotaged my chance at love but these kids? They know what they’re doing.”

What the fuck does that next line say, you sweaty bitch? Why the fuck did you use gel pens for this?

“Before I moved into my studio in Condiment King’s territory—“ you pause for laughter and get some, “— I lived with Laura. And she was good, I guess.”

You stick your tongue out at her, winking. 

“She showed me how to use a hair straightener and how to shotgun a beer, but most importantly she showed me what it looks like to actively be vulnerable and put yourself on the line for love. She faced the dating world before tinder, but she also extended that vulnerability to me. With her making soup for me when I’d had a crappy day, and calling me out when I’d done something wrong to put me back on the right path, she always loved me fully and with care. Not gentleness, though. After a frat formal she threw a glass at me once.”

The room erupted in laughter and Laura looked fake-embarrassed. 

“But I have also had the privilege of knowing the groom. Dorian, or as I know him, Gut Chase, was someone I always knew would make sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch. I was briefly a cheerleader, he was in football and a few years older, but I had someone close to him that I held dearly and he kept that in mind. I don’t think he liked me much when we were growing up, but he always made sure I had a ride home and a place to stay. I wasn’t allowed to speak to him in public but I wasn’t going to get hurt around him.” 

The room laughed again, although you only focus on the smile of one of the groomsmen who doesn't meet your gaze. You crumple the paper further because you can’t even read it at this point and you don’t remember what it said.

“The point is, I don't need to have some love story of my own to know what care and love look like when it comes to these two. I know I could have had something like this and I'm endlessly jealous of my prettier college roommate. And judging from last night and today I’ve never seen such explicit love between two people, the way they orbit each other and care for the people in their lives. They've found someone who is not only going to be there at night for them when things are fun, but they've found someone who’s going to be there in the morning. And someone they're going to be there in the morning for. Someone that's going to take care of the good and the bad and someone that they're going to show up for in that way, too. It’s fucking beautiful. I’m sorry for cursing. Let’s get hammered.”

You knock back your champagne and remind yourself to call an uber and leave your rental here. Maybe it's heavy handed that you mentioned the morning. But really, had you stayed that morning with Adrian you would have never left. You would have thrown away college had he kissed you again the morning after. People cheer and you scurry to get away from the spotlight, people start to stand from where they were and waiters start to clear plates and people begin to go to the bar. You're one of the first.

You order another glass of champagne. Had Adrian asked, you would have stayed. You know that. You've always known that, and that's exactly why you had to leave before he woke up. Fate is cruel, bringing you back here. 

“Baaabe!” Laura shouts, Gut in tow, and throws her arms around you.

You hug her back with the arm not holding your glass. 

“That was amazing,” she says, and you can only scoff, not willing to take the praise. 

“You did good, Runt,” Gut offers, patting your shoulder with a fond smile on his face. Maybe people can change. 

“Thanks guys,” you sigh, and try to gulp down this next glass as well. 

“Who were you talking about?” Laura asks. 

You choke on your sip.

“Who?”

“In the speech, you said you blew it with someone, who was it?”

Gut’s grip on your shoulder gets a little tighter. 

“Do you want a tequila shot?” you deflect, and never one to turn down a challenge, she accepts. 

You shoot Gut a thankful glance, although he actually didn't do anything. 

The next morning you wake up to your alarm with the slightest headache, two full glasses of water and a bottle of advil on your bedside table that you don't remember placing there but you also don't expect to with all the champagne and tequila going to your head.

It's still forty five minutes before you have to be at the wedding venue but you shower in under ten minutes and call an uber (thankful for your foresight to leave your car last night) the second you're dry. It's a good thing the ride is quick to the venue and they dont mind that you've thrown your bridesmaid dress and shoes and an additional backpack across the back seat. The uber driver is far too loud and friendly for this hour, your headache starting to get stronger even though you took the advil.

Laura’s already there and panicking, her lashes done and her immediately screaming at you to get into the hair chair even though it's technically not correct on her schedule. Janessa should be going first but you don't question a bride thats near tears. You hop in and close your eyes, and combing or prodding is fine with you, as long as you don't have to be standing. 

By the time your hair is done other bridesmaids trickle in, and by the time everyone is done Gina finally is able to make an appearance and you all breathe a sigh of relief at Laura’s worry finally dissolved. You all look nice. Laura looks like a princess. You're not sure if you can get through this wedding without crying like a baby now that you see her all done up. Fuck. She ushers you all out as she stays behind, a smile that finally looks genuine plastered on her face, ready for her first looks with her new husband before the rest of the world gets to see her.

“Thank you,” she whispers one last time to you, and you squeeze her hand before you leave the bridal suite to go line up in preparation for the actual wedding itself.

“— You moron!” 

You catch the end of whatever Gut is whisper-shouting at Adrian in the lobby, handsome in his suit and anxiety painted on his face and seeping from his gritted and bared teeth. 

You walk the rest of the way over after getting down the rest of the stairs, skirt of your dress fluttering as you move, and put your hand on Gut’s arm not unlike the way he did to you last night.

“Hey, whatever's going on, I got it,” you tell him, not looking Adrian’s way still in fear of your own emotional state. You aren't sure why you offered to help at all, but there's no backing out now.

“He wants to switch partners to walk with you, which is stupid and not part of the plan,” Gut explains. What the fuck. Actually what the fuck.

You shake your head, and you bury the pit in your stomach. Your emotions aren't the most important ones today and others are at stake. Fuck it, you’ll take one for the team and maybe cry in the bathroom later and blame it on the alcohol, as long as it doesn't stop you from the cotton eyed joe at the reception.

“Let us switch, your bride is upstairs waiting, we’ll handle shit down here,” you tell him, voice already exasperated, and that seems to light a fire under his ass. He moves to the staircase without another warning and salutes towards you and his little brother.

His little brother whom you still cannot look in the eye.

The rest of the bridal party starts to get themselves together at the disappearance of the groom, and you sort yourself in order. Shoes are good, hair is good, dress is good, you are good to go; and once youre over this hiccup you can party with Laura and the other bridesmaids.

“Look, I’m sorry-” Adrian starts as you link your arm in his own. He looks so fucking good in the suit, so good you need him to shut up before the last of your dignity leaves you. 

“Don't even worry about it,” you say, still not looking at him, “We’re even, remember?”

Adrian seems to deflate at your words, but if you know Adrian you know that doesn't mean he’s given up.

“I’m just saying, you didn't deserve that. I should have stayed.”

You eye up Gina in front of you, her long hair cascading down her back, happily joking with the best man. Mike’s now behind you, with Laura’s work friend. Adrian’s arm feels like a cage around you. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, trying to focus on how it feels to be hungover in stilettos. Bad, but you can use that pain as a distraction. 

“See, you say that,” you're in for an Adrian rant, and you wish you could appreciate it, “But you won't look at me, and then your speech last night had me thinking, and then you didn't let me talk to you about it after you drank a lot of tequila with my brother and even though I drove you home you wouldnt let me make sure you drank your water.”

He looks at you with expectant eyes, asking you to crack.

He says it so easily, as if his mini rant doesnt throw a spear through the heart of your barely calm and cool persona. As if your blood doesn't run cold knowing Adrian was in the airbnb again, only to care for you and look out for your safety. Adrian is a good guy, and as your pinky toe pinches in the straps of the stiletto while you rock away from him, you regret never calling most of all. Your eyes search his face for an hint of a lie, but you can't find one. So you do what you can, you look away from him.

“I drank the water,” is all you can say, the tip of the iceberg of what you really mean. His free hand squeezes your elbow, an exchange.

The opening chords of the organist strike, and you recoil at the sound, sighing deeply as everyone readies themselves. 

Gina is all you want to focus on, her two braids tied into the curls the stylist sweat over in a half up-do that would rival what the wig makers on Game of Thrones could do. 

“But anyways, I’m trying to apologize.”

You can't even find a bobby pin sticking out on her whole head.

“I don't want an apology.”

You want to run away again. You want to fuck him in the bathroom of this venue. You want to fight him to the death. You want to stain his clean shaven cheek with your lipstick. 

 “Then what do you want? You're torturing me, and I would know, I’ve been tortured. This is like emotional though, not physical.”

Ignore whatever that means. 

“I want to know what you would have done if you didn't leave.”

Fuck, why did you say that? Quick, think about escape routes, find fire exits. Run for Mount Rainier, burn down the airbnb. Goodbye!

“Well, not fucking leave,” he starts, lowering his voice to a whisper when the doors open to reveal all of the guests.

You just tilt your head, yeah, figures. 

“You like everything bagels with chive and onion cream cheese, and I would have gotten you one. They make your breath smell like shit but I would have kissed you anyway just to prove a point.”

That's basically a confession of love right there. 

You and Adrian walk down the aisle, a smile tugging at your lips, but you refuse to let it stick. The venue is beautiful, sage green and pink everywhere, a flower arch out of some perfume commercial and trendy reclaimed wood galore.

“Can we just talk?” he asks, his voice rising and you immediately try to shush him as discreetly as you can. 

“Save a dance for me at the reception,” you whisper to him, preparing yourself to take your place in the line up at the altar.

“But I wanted to talk-”

You shush him again, a little harsher than you mean to, but he seems to get the idea.

“Oh! duh— I didn't bring a date! I don’t have a dance partner to begin with,” he answers, and the smile you’ve been trying to hide breaks through. You squeeze his arm as you leave his embrace and go to stand on your side.

You look out at the crowd, a lot of them unfamiliar faces. A few friends from Laura’s major and their partners, a few cousins and kids you met when you went to her summer house, a few of Gut’s friends on the other side (save for Chris Smith, thank fucking god, you would absolutely not be surviving this if you had to hear him say anything about your tits) and Gut’s cousins from Northern California. You stop for a moment on two empty chairs, for Gut and Adrian’s parents. Suddenly you're sixteen again, watching Adrian push you away for the comfort of shooting ranges instead of talking about his own parents' deaths as a result of a car chase gone wrong. Your eye’s flicker to Adrian, his eyes already set straight on you, his smile not matching how his eyes scan you. Gut enters and practically power walks down the aisle, and you mote that theres already a noticeable amount of lipstick on the corner of his lips. 

The music changes. 

The most beautiful woman you've ever seen walks down the aisle.

You can feel Adrian’s eyes on you the entire ceremony.

Adrian doesn't leave your side the entire cocktail hour, following you around and asking about all of your drink and snack preferences. 

“I like pomegranate martinis, you know, a little Hades and Persephone thing going on?” You joke, and he orders you one from the drink station without a second glance.

“You mean like Hercules, the Disney movie?” he asks when he hands you your glass, hand steady and careful not to spill it.

You could scoff, or make a joke, or correct him, but instead you just smile and say, “Yeah, Adrian!” just to see his smile get even wider. 

“Thats a really good movie, even if its for kids,” he muses.

“So what does Adrian Chase drink?”

He pauses and thinks it over for a minute. 

“Yeungling,” he says, but he doesn't try to hide his grimace at the answer, his teeth bared and his eyes averted.

“So thats a lie,” you point out immediately over the rim of your glass. Adrian’s eyes dart over to where Laura and his brother are talking to some distant relative, definitely from Laura’s side. They're both the happiest you've ever seen them and you can’t help but to thank whatever cosmic power led them to meet. 

“Yeah, Gut says a bay breeze is chick stuff,” Adrian admits, and you figured this was the case. He was always pulling you down candy aisles or getting the really sweet stuff as far as slurpee flavors went. 

“Get the fucking bay breeze,” you tell him, and his whole face lights up. When was the last time this man got himself a girlie tropical drink?

“Okay! I mean, I've gotta hide it, but if you won’t judge me then I’ll do it,” he turns away from you, already ready to get the bartender’s attention again to order.

Theres a million things you want to say and all you can come up with is talking about his drinking habits? You only know where the guy works because you asked one of his cousins why the rehearsal dinner was at Fennell Fields and she told you he basically was allowed to book the back room for free because he worked there. You have so many things to ask him, so many things to say, and you ask him about a fucking drink. 

“You were right, this is way better. You said we could talk now?” he asks, not hiding his eagerness as he talks with the bendy straw still between his teeth. 

You exhale harshly, pushing the air through your nose, nodding. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, not wanting to correct him that the cocktail hour technically isnt the reception. Thats an easy mistake to make, its close enough.

He nods his head towards the back doors, leading out to the gardens that a few people are at, but its much less crowded than the venue proper. At least hes giving you that safety net. 

Each step feels heavier, and you once again curse the fact that Laura is a stilettos girl and made you be the same for a weekend. But the garden is beautiful, it looks like a small town in Washington’s version of the Versailles gardens, which you've never seen outside of Google images so it doesn't matter to miss out on the real thing.

He leads you to a bench, and pats it as he sits down on one end. You sweep the flow skirt under you and sit too, thankful to be off your feet after the past few hours.

"You can take those off if you want," he points his glass at your heels, "We can swap? They don't look comfy."

"We can't swap," you chuckle, but you unbuckle the heels and stretch your feet on the pavement.

“Well, we should talk,” he says, as if prompting you. The whole situation feels like there’s some kind of teleprompter you should be able to read, some magical thing to say, but there’s not. You don’t have words, just feelings. The anxiety, the joy, the ecstasy, the profound sadness and emptiness of the whole thing. There’s no way to put it into words. You don’t know how to word that you’ve forgotten him for maybe only ten of the months you’ve been away. Often wondering with other dates if Adrian was nicer than them, if he was dating. Wondering if Adrian was having a good life, if Adrian made friends. Seldom you forgot about him. And none of it you can voice without sounding worse than you already are.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down into your martini, the last few sips staring back at you. 

“You’ve said that already. Can I talk?” he asks. You nod, still not meeting his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Like I said before, you didn't deserve that.”

“I kinda did,” you offer, shrugging.

“Will you stop?” he asks, his eyes widening behind his glasses. You only grimace and nod for him to continue. 

“Sorry, anyway, you didn't deserve that. I know you had to have a good reason for leaving without saying anything. And I have to admit, I have kept tabs on you. Not in a creepy way,” he pauses, “Maybe in a creepy way, but not in an illegal way. When the library put up the article about your job in Gotham I took it because that's not real stealing, everything is free in the library.”

That's not how libraries work. You remember that article, you were put on a 30 under 30 article for art and design in Gotham; you just didn't know the article made its way back to Evergreen. It's sweet that he stole the article, even though he could have just bought a copy of the magazine. 

You nod at him, needing him to continue. 

“And then when I saw you it all just kinda, came up, you know?”

You do know. Its that same vacuum that sucked air from your lungs and slowed the time down in that fucking Hooters that now feels so much more meaningful and cosmic instead of being what it is. God, what a place for a reunion. 

“Yeah, I know,” you say, your voice just above a whisper. 

“I didn’t want to be mean, but I felt like I had to, I don’t know why.”

But you know why, you know exactly why.

“No it’s fine, I would have done the same,” you say, the knuckle of your free hand brushing the soft material of his suit pants.

“Yeah. I know,” he laughs, his smile overtaking all of his features. This feels normal, finally. You’re on the same wavelength. 

“And I have to admit, I was a little jealous of Laura for taking my best friend position once I heard about you guys in college.”

You roll your eyes, letting yourself lean into him, his shoulder warm under his shirt. His arms look fucking good, with the crisp white 

“Where’d your suit jacket go?” you ask, lowering your head to rest it against him. 

“Gut’s gonna kill me,” he answers, and you can pretty much assume he’s lost it. 

Laughter escapes your lips, loud and almost cackling, and you sit back up so as to not spill your drink as the laughter keeps coming. Adrian joins in, his eyes closed behind those glasses that haven't changed in the past fifteen years, laughter boisterous and light. 

“Can we start over?” you interrupt your own laughter, setting your glass down on the ground next to the bench. 

Adrian’s laughter subsides, and he goes quiet. He thinks about it for a second. 

“Hmm, no,” he answers. Your hands fall limp in your lap, the skirt of your dress making a light swooshing noise at the contact. He could have punched you just now and it would have been less of a surprise to you. 

“Oh,” you sigh, trying and failing to play it cool. Your shoulders feel heavy. 

“I can’t start over with someone who’s seen my penis… or wore my retainer when she lost hers. Which was really gross,” he laughs, this time a subdued chuckle with a hint of nostalgia, and his eyes travel up and down your body again. You shiver under his gaze. 

“Yeah, that was nasty,” you admit, but your teeth are straight no matter what. 

You both go quiet, staring out at the treeline behind the venue. A cosmic reset. His hand scoots closer to you on the seat of the bench. The wind whistles and Party Rock Anthem is muffled and obscured by the glass doors leading back into the cocktail hour. 

“So your brother and my college roommate, huh?” you break the stillness.

“Yeah, it's uh,” he looks down at his watch, “almost the end of cocktail hour. We get to walk in together, right?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “You made sure of that with the stunt you pulled this morning.”

If he's at all embarrassed, he doesn't show it.

You stand up, rolling your eyes. 

“C’mon,” you say, holding your hand out to him. 

A cosmic restart.

“And here is your wedding party!” the DJ announces over the microphone. The first couple dances out from under the sting light arch, offbeat and singing along. Then the second. After the third it's you and Adrian, and you can feel him starting to get antsy. 

“We’ll be fine,” you reassure him, brushing your knuckles against his. 

“Don’t hate me for this,” he whisper-shouts over the music. 

You don't have time to even think about what that means because the couple in front of you dances out, but now you're anxious and rigid in your heels. You step into the spotlight, and your cue comes.

But Adrian has other plans, apparently, as he bends down to let his big strong arms (wow are you happy he grew these in your absence) circle your thighs and he hoists you over his shoulder. 

You wave awkwardly at all the guests sat for dinner, cackling and slapping Adrian’s back to the beat of the music, Adrians laugh filling your space as he awkwardly dance- walks you across the dance floor to where the other wedding party members are standing and talking, waiting for dinner and the reception to officially begin. You feel giddy, like a late night drive in the summer after Adrian got his license, like when you walked into prom holding Adrian’s hand like you’d just won the lottery. His hands are warm, incredibly so, and his muscles are taut against you.

Fuck, you’d like to feel his muscles against you in - nope, hold that thought. You want to repair whatever this is with Adrian, not be a slut at your friend’s wedding. 

When you finally reach your spot, he holds you there for a few moments, his big hands squeezing the backs of your thighs before he puts you down gently. You miss the feeling of his hands on you. 

Dinner and more speeches go off wonderfully, and you're thankful you get to stay quiet this time, few eyes on you throughout all of the formal stuff, except for Laura. Sure, her main focus are the speakers and her new husband, but you've caught more than one sneaky glance your way, and you know exactly what that means. Before they leave for their honeymoon in Cabo, she's going to corner you and ask if you and her new brother-in-law are doing anything. And knowing her, she’ll already know the answer.

Adrian nudges you when the plates are cleared by the caterers during the first dance, drawing your eyes away from the happy couple dancing to him, apprehension apparent on his face. You realize that you really haven't spoken to him since he put you down.

“Do you want to… maybe, go out there when they’re done being a lovely couple?” he asks. 

“I mean, yeah. I told you to save me a dance,” you respond, and Adrian’s shoulders visibly sag in relief like a weight has just been taken off of them. 

And you're lucky enough that your anxiousness is spared that the next two songs and the family dances go by as quickly as they can, and the dancefloor opens for everyone with Vienna by Billy Joel. You look over to Adrian, winking as you rise from your seat, your hand reaching out to lead him away from the table. 

He, to your surprise, grabs your hand firmly and lets you lead him out, and you become one of the first couples out on the dance floor. People trickle in after, but they're all peripheral noise and shapes as Adrian’s hands find purchase on your hips.

“I’m glad you're here without a date,” Adrian admits, without a hint of shame in his voice. 

“I’m glad you're here without a date too, or else this whole weekend would have been a lot more complicated than it already has been,” you offer honestly, and lean into his swaying. Your fingers play with the curls at the base of his neck absentmindedly.  

“It wasn't that complicated,” he says, “We’re just bad at feelings.”

Understatement of the century, you think, but yeah, that checks out. You'd both had hurt feelings and both been weird about it. He hums along as he pulls you closer, your chests almost touching, the heat tangible between you. It's going to be hard to keep your cool around Adrian all night without wanting to be even closer, without wanting to kiss him. Maybe you can kiss him afterward. 

“Did you become a Billy Joel fan while I was gone?” you joke, knowing that his taste was a lot more girl pop or harder rock when you last saw him.

“Billy Joel? I thought this was Bruno Mars!”

You want to ask him if he's joking but you already know the answer to that. 

“Yeah, I mean they're easy to mix up,” you say, and he nods. 

“I really missed you, Adrian,” you finally admit, “I wish I-”

“I wish that you would just let it go, troll under the bridge. Lets have fun before you have to leave again,” he interrupts.

“Well actually,” you readjust your arms, more of a hug than a dance now, “I’m here until next Monday, and I want to give you my number so we can keep in touch. Laura lives here now so…”

“So you have a reason to come out here?” he asks, hopeful. 

“You’re a reason to come out here too, if you want to be,” you assure him, and his fingers dig into your hips, the material of the skirt bunching under his palms. 

“Really? I do, I want to be-”

Fuck it, you think. Be a slut, do what you want. 

You pull Adrian into a kiss, cutting him off mid sentence. He hums, the death of a word coming to die from his lips to yours, and his form melts around yours, his grasp on you growing firmer pressing you against him 

“I knew it!” you hear Laura scream, “I fucking knew it!”

But you don't dare pull away from Adrian to laugh with the bride. He keeps swaying, off tempo to the song, but perfect for you. His lips curl up into a smile and his own laughter breaks the kiss, though. 

“Do you want to go have sex again?” he asks bluntly, slightly breathless from his own laughter. 

Unlike the other night, you're pushing him down onto the mattress tonight, Adrian eagerly shuffling further up onto the bed as you hike up your skirt to climb on top of him. You stop when you're over his hips, letting the skirt pool around him, your flimsy underwear leaving you feeling bare and hot against Adrian’s pants. 

You pull him up by his tie, your mouths meeting in the space between you for another sloppy kiss, open-mouthed and wet.  You both fall back into the sheets, kissing as your hands move to the knot of the tie. You fiddle with the knot, pulling it one way, then the other, trying to loosen it without breaking the kiss to look at it. 

Cmon, cmon.

You feel it tighten against his collar instead of loosen. You have to pull away. 

Adrian’s lips chase yours, not opening his eyes until he hears you speak.

“Get rid of the tie, I can't do it!” you demand, your hands instead starting to work at buttons lower down on his chest. He laughs, but his hands leave your body to pull the tie loose, and he does it easily. He slips the stupid thing off of his neck and flings it into the dimness of the room. You're free to unbutton all of his shirt now, pulling at where it's tucked into his pants to get it off of him. 

Fuck, he’s beautiful, you think, as you finally get to take in his bare chest. He's got muscle, he's buff, with the lightest dusting of hair between his pectorals and light freckles that you remember.

You pull him back up to sit so he can remove his shirt and you find that to be the wrong move. As he sits up, his hips shift against your core, and you struggle to bite back a needy moan. 

“Am I bothering you?” he asks.

“Nope,” you shake your head, biting down on your lip at the friction. 

“No? Then you wouldn't mind if I…” he trails off, tilting his hips up into yours again. This time, you feel him rock hard against you, and you whine desperately. Fucking bastard. Adrian chuckles, and you decide to get your revenge.

You push him back down on the mattress the moment the offending shirt is shed, latching your lips onto the expanse of his neck, kissing a wet trail in your wake as he gasps and grunts below you.

“I was so mean to you,” he gasps as you bite at his collarbone, “Do you want to punish me for that?”

Who the fuck is Adrian fucking? Is the first thought through your head. Punish him? What kind of kinky shit does he get up to?

“Don’t wanna punish you,” you dismiss, “Just wanna have you.”

“Okay,” he mumbles, his lips dragging against your hairline as he pulls you lower on top of him until your chests meet, “Still on the table, though.”

You'll keep that in mind.

“Get this dress off,” he groans, equally struggling with the zipper until he finally just rips the hook and eye at the top of it, the zip sliding down your back easily for him after that. You’re definitely going to have to get that repaired, but that’s the last thing on your mind when Adrian is pulling the material off of you half crazed, trying to have you bare against him as soon as he can. He pulls the dress up over your head, maybe not the easiest way to discard it, your arms struggling to untangle from the straps as he unwraps you. You help him push all of the bunched up material across your chest and over you, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bodice finally comes off of you and you can both drop the dress off the edge of the bed, and his hands immediately working their way to your chest.

His thumb brushes against the faded mark on your breast that he left the other night, sending a shiver down your spine. You're sure he's about to leave even more.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moans, squeezing at you while his eyes take you in. You’re glad now that you opted for the ‘sexier’ of the no-show underwear you picked out under the dress. 

“Thought you said women don’t like being called hot,” you joke, recalling his previous words.

“Right, pretty,” he corrects himself, and you have to shake your head. 

“I’m fucking with you,” you laugh. 

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he retorts, and quickly flips you over, pinning you underneath him. 

“So so pretty like this,” he whispers, his hands trailing down your body, stoking the fires of your arousal.

You’ll keep that in mind, too. 

You grab at the sheets, balling the cotton in your fists as Adrian’s hands finally make their way between your thighs. He presses his fingers to your clothed cunt, and you both sigh at the contact. 

“Please touch me,” you beg, all the boldness gone from your tone now that he’s got you like this. 

“I’ll do you one better!” he says, and moves himself down the bed, removing his hand only so he can remove your panties. 

“Can I taste you?” he asks, repositioning you for his own easy access. You nod, tilting your hips up towards him. He puts your legs on his shoulders, and slowly creeps in. 

His hot breath fans out over your cunt, his glasses fogging as he looks up at you, the way his cheeks and nose scrunch lets you know that he’s grinning like a maniac. 

Without warning, he darts his tongue out, licking between your folds and only stopping when the tip of his tongue meets your clit. 

You whine, needy and unexpected, and try to quiet yourself again. You feel him as he exhales through his nose, maybe laughing at your desperation, and moves his tongue; small, deliberate licks against your clit that have you hitching your breath with each one.

“Please,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the sheets so tight you could rip them. Adrian dives in like a man starved, his tongue dipping into you and the tip of his nose bumping against your clit. He licks into you like your cunt is what keeps him alive, like the water of life. You moan, languid and loud; his big hands flatten out, one against your stomach and the other along the underside of your breast.

Where the fuck did Adrian Chase learn this? Maybe you don't want to know, maybe you just want to enjoy the skills for what they are. His lips move in tandem with his tongue, not hiding the slurping sounds his mouth makes; fuck, he worships you.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, at first a slow bubble, and then a sudden boil. Your moans turn almost to screams as you shake under him, your thighs tightening around his head.

Adrian’s having none of that, though. He removes his hands from you, moving them to your thighs to hold them in place. Without the leverage of your legs, your back arches almost painfully, leaning into your orgasm as it shakes your entire system, Adrian just happily working you through it, gradually slowing down his mouths movements as your breathing becomes more and more regulated.

“Good?” he asks, when he finally moves his mouth away from you. Everything from his nose to his chin is soaked in you. 

“Y-yeah,” you pant, still catching yourself.

“Good, then you’re ready for me,” he says, smirking as he untangles from your thighs and moves back up. He kisses your cheek, decidedly not letting you taste yourself at this moment. Somehow, in your haze, you hadn't noticed that he’d gotten rid of his pants. 

You already feel him, heavy and hard, resting against your entrance, and immediately you need more no matter how sensitive you might be.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell him, and he chuckles.

“Not for this,” and he pushes in to the hilt. He gives you no mercy, like he said he wouldn't. He gives you no time to adjust to his size. You yelp, both in surprise and in pleasure, and he picks up his pace as if your noise was permission.

“Fuck, prettiest girl I’ve ever known, all laid out for me, all for me,” he babbles, his lips just barely brushing yours as he stays close. 

“All for you,” your voice comes out in a moan, all control of your volume and tone lost; the fire already building in you again.

“Gonna give you everything, all for you,” he says, like a promise, his own voice strained. 

He doesn't hold back in his pace, pushing in all the way each time, deep and hard, a slamming pace. He's not gentle, but the way that he looks at you is full of all of the affection and sweetness he holds for you. This is your best friend. This is… whatever he is beyond that. 

“Adrian, kiss me,” you beg, wanting to seal yourself to him, to connect. 

“But I might taste-”

“I don’t care.”

That's all he has to hear, and once the kisses start, they don't stop.  He moves a little awkwardly at first, his pace faltering slightly to adjust for this connection, but he finds his rhythm again. He thrusts sharply, your hips moving to meet him as best you can, your bodies moving in sync with your pleasure. He quickens his pace, his kisses getting harsher, more bruising. Adrian is a kisser, you realize. He likes it like this. 

“I’m gonna—,” he gasps after his harshest thrust yet, and you grab his hips, holding him close. 

“Go ahead,” you say, breathless yourself and ready to lose your own composure. 

He pumps into you harder, his hips snapping against you sure to bruise. Adrian’s hand leaves your hip to move his thumb to your clit, rubbing quick circles that choke out sobs from your throat. It's hard to hold on, both physically to his hips but also to your composure. Every thought of him, him, him, and the fire inside of you that fights to escape. 

“Adrian, please,” you beg, voice watery and desperate, and he obeys, speeding up his movements until you scream, and shake, and lose everything. Your mind whites-out. No thoughts but the specific shade of green of his eyes. 

And when you come back you feel full, sticky and hot. Adrian holds you tightly, still inside you, snuggling you close and cradling your body to him. He's shushing you and pressing kisses into your skin, muttering sweet nothings to soothe you. Fuck, thats never happened before. 

“That was good?” you ask, breathless laughter in your tone. 

“Now I know you have to be joking with me,” he says, pulling back slightly, “That was mind-blowing! Literally.”

He pulls away more, and you reach out to reel him back into your embrace. Adrian reassures you he’ll be right back. Even after all of this, the tiniest doubt creeps in, and when he backs out of the room, boxers in hand, you pull the sheets up over you tightly. 

He comes back into the room with two glasses of water in only his boxers, a sight you want to get used to. He places the glasses down on the nightstand and throws the covers over the both of you, enveloping you in their warmth and his. Adrian runs like a furnace.

“Can you stay this time?” Your voice is small, vulnerable. Adrian’s warm hand cups your cheek, and he shimmies closer to you under the covers. 

“How much does a flight to Gotham cost?” he asks, deadly serious. 

You balk at his question.

“Adrian, you can't uproot your life for me,” you insist, feeling bad suddenly about the way you continue to cling to him, hands pressed into his back to hold him to you. 

“Psh, who said that? I figure maybe Evergreen can survive without me for a week or so. I wanna take you on a real date,” he snuggles closer, curling the blankets further over you. Your own little world, a little bubble just for the two of you. 

You’ll remind him that Gotham is currently surviving a week without you, too, in the morning. 

“I’d like that,” you say, sleep sinking into the edges of your voice. 

“Get some rest,” he says, sounding just as sleepy, his head feeling heavier against you, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

He is. 

#adrian chase x reader

[shockercoco]

Modern Lonliness

Major John Egan x reader

Warnings - little bit of angst, but mostly fluff

Word count - 2159

a/n - this was literally supposed to be posted over a month ago for the ending of MOTA, but I kept writing for Austin lol. Might as well get it out the drafts now. I also basically had to rewrite the whole thing bc wtf was I thinking a month ago. I hope you enjoy :)

The war is finally over, allowing all the soldiers to go home, including the two best friends Buck and Bucky. The only thing holding Bucky back from being completely content about leaving is the fact that he doesn’t have that special someone to go back to.

Buck has Marge, and of course he’s happy for him, but Bucky just wishes had found a girl before he got sent off, someone who would know how he was before the war. Buck would always tell him not to worry and that he would find someone soon, but each time it doesn’t give him any reassurance.

You have been best friends with Marge since college, so when she told you her fiance was coming home you had nothing but joy for her. You had been a huge supporter of their relationship since the beginning, and while Buck was away you were always at her house comforting her for when she cried or just needed a friend. During his absence, Buck would write to you to check in on Marge because you and him both knew Marge would never tell him how she was really doing.

Currently, you are walking out of her front door to go back home when you see a taxi pull up in the driveway. You didn’t think anything of it until you saw Buck exiting the vehicle with his bags in hand. You shout for Marge to come outside, and it doesn’t take long for her to sprint into Buck’s arms after seeing him in the driveway. With a smile, you watched as he held onto her tightly and so lovingly, knowing this is exactly what Marge needed after a bad week. 

Deep down, though, you were wishing you had someone coming home to you, someone whose arms you could run into and kiss you like his life depended on it. When it came to the dating scene you never had much luck, so after a while you just accepted the defeat and gave up, deciding it was better to put your energy towards your career. 

During your girl talks, Marge would always tell you that you would find someone soon, and how perfect of a person you were, but year after year of not finding a relationship was making it hard to believe her. 

A couple days after Buck’s return, Marge invited you over because she was hosting a barbeque for Buck and some of his friends. You tried your best to get out of it, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She also mentioned that Bucky – Buck’s friend from the military who you’ve only heard while reading letters – would be there and that it would be an opportunity for you.

You didn’t find it unusual that she was trying to set you up with someone because this is what she always does, but you just weren’t in the mood to have small talk with a guy who probably wouldn’t find you attractive.

When Buck had invited Bucky – because when are they not together – he turned down the offer, and just like Marge, Buck wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

So, now here you were in Marge’s backyard surrounded by men and their partners. The only people you knew were the hosts, so you sat on the steps of the back porch with Marge beside you. Marge also didn’t know many of the guests given the fact everyone was Buck’s friend from the military, so she kept you company as she watched Buck man the grill with a few other guys beside him.

Bucky was among them, standing right next to his best friend and sipping on a beer as he talked. Every now and again, he would run a hand through his hair to push some of his loose curls, and you couldn’t deny the fact that he was attractive as you found yourself admiring him from a distance.

“Are you going to say something to him?” Marge asked you as she swished around the lemonade in her glass. She had been watching you this whole time as you practically drooled in the direction of the grill.

“Of course not,” you say as you turn your attention back to her, not before glancing around to see if anyone else had caught you staring. 

Thankfully some of the women had formed a little group and were laughing and gossiping amongst themselves, so there was little chance anyone had noticed you.

“And why not?” asked Marge with furrowed brows. “He’s a nice guy, I promise.”

“I’m sure he is, but it’s not like I know what to say. Plus look at him, he’s way out of my league,” you reply as you take a sip of lemonade from your own glass. 

“No he’s not, he’s just like any other guy,” she scoffs followed by a laugh.

“And just like with any other guy, I have nothing to talk about. What do we even have in common? He also just got back from a war camp in Europe, what if I say something that triggers him? 

“You’re overthinking. Just start off with a simple hello, and then go from there. He’s a huge flirt so knowing him he’ll do most of the talking,” she smiles. 

She was always so optimistic about these kinds of things, but you would be too if you were getting married to a guy who basically worships you.

You quickly finish the last of your lemonade before standing up. “I’m going to get a refill,” you mumble as you walk up the steps and into the house. You needed an excuse to get away from the conversation, and to get out of the heat. The sundress you were wearing was cute and gave you airflow, but it also exposed your arms and legs to harsh sun.

You head into the kitchen and open the fridge to take out the pitcher of lemonade Marge had made earlier in the day. After refilling your glass, you thought it was best to linger in the kitchen for a bit longer and decided to grab a plate of fruit out of the fridge to keep you busy.

Just as you jump up on the kitchen counter to get comfortable, you hear the back door opening. Next thing you know, you see Bucky walking into the kitchen, letting out a sigh that seems to be of exhaustion. He flashes you a smile when he notices you, before proceeding to grab another beer out of the fridge.

“You’re Marge’s friend right?” he asks as he shuts the door and turns to face you. 

“Yep,” is all you say before sticking a grape in your mouth.

“I’m John, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he says. He makes direct eye contact as sticks a hand out for you to shake, which you do, before popping the cap off his beer.

“So I’ve heard. I’ve seen your picture in Marge’s letters,” you respond as you focus your attention on the plate in your hands and begin moving some fruit around.

“Oh, yeah? Did I atleast look good in those pictures? Buck never lets me read his letters,” He smirks as he leans against the counter opposite from you.

You almost choke on the piece of fruit you had just placed in your mouth from his statement. You feel your face and ears turning warm so you turn your head and look out the kitchen window to avoid his gaze.

You stop yourself from smiling and cover it by clearing your throat. “Well  you were in a uniform and in black and white, so I couldn’t really tell.” 

“Understandable, black and white photos can be misleading,” he jokes, taking a swig from his bear. There’s a short silence that follows that isn’t completely awkward, but not exactly comfortable to you either. You hope he doesn’t notice.

The silence is interrupted by the back door opening and Marge sticking her head inside. She grins as her eyes flicker between you and Bucky before stopping on you to say, “Are you coming back out or what?”

“In a second, I’m just going to cool off in here for a bit,” you tell her. She gives you a nod before closing the door.

“Not a fan of big gatherings, I take it,” Bucky says once Marge is gone.

“What makes you say that?” you steal a glance at him before looking back out the window.

You smile as you watch Marge join Buck at the grill, making him turn his head to give her a quick kiss.

“I can tell you’re avoiding going back outside, and I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same thing myself,” he answers.

“What are you avoiding?” you finally turn your head to face him.

“Nothing specific really, I’m just not in the mood for conversating and answering people’s questions right now. That doesn’t include you though,” he looks over at you with a small smile. ” I used to love being around people and having fun, but now all I want to do is leave.” 

You watch as Bucky stares at the wall, going distant. His mood seems to have shifted from the one he had when he first stepped foot in the kitchen. “Everything okay?”

Your voice interrupts his thoughts and brings him back to the present. “Yeah, I’m fine…I’m just…I can tell I’m a different person ever since I got back, and I’m not sure I like this version of me.” He sets his beer on the counter and folds his arms, no longer in the mood to drink it. 

“I don’t think anyone expects you to be the same.”

“Well yeah, it’s just the fact that everyone I meet from now on will only know this version of me. They won’t know how different I was before the war, and they won’t understand what I’ve been through. Like Buck has Marge to talk to, and she understands because of the letters he would send her. I don’t have that,” Bucky says before adding, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to dump this all on you.”

You just give him a smile. Even though you will never understand completely what Bucky went through, you do have some grasp on what he’s feeling. To you it’s obvious that he puts on a mask when he’s around people, and won’t let his feelings show unless he’s alone – harboring his emotions.

“I know how close you are with Buck, have you ever told him about how you felt? It always helps to talk to someone.” you tell him.

He shakes his head, “No, I don’t want to bother him. He has his own problems.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” you tell him, but he just shakes his head again. “Well...I know we’ve just met, but you could talk to me. I mean, you just opened up to me in a kitchen within ten minutes of meeting me. I’m obviously a great listener Only if you want to, though,” you end with a hopeful smile.

Bucky finally looks away from the wall to look you in the eye with his eyebrows raised. “Really?” he asks and you nod. “That would be nice.”

And that’s where the bond between the two of you started, and it only continued to grow stronger. You would meet up with him for drinks, lunch, or just for a walk through the park. Bucky would tell you everything, from him joining the military and meeting Buck to what he has experienced throughout the past few years. You could tell that he would get emotional when he brought up certain topics, but he never cried around you, even though you always encouraged him to let his feelings out.

One day when he invited you to dinner, you brought it up to Marge. She quickly got excited and said it was a date, but you just brushed it off and told her it was just another casual meeting. Nonetheless, you still decided to put effort into your appearance – more than you normally do – and once the dinner was over, you realized she was right.

Bucky ended up confessing to you how his feelings for you have grown over the past few weeks. At first you were shocked, but when you realized he was being serious, you admitted that you felt the same way. 

You didn’t care that Bucky thought he was a ruined person with a lot of baggage, everyone has their hardships, after all. Bucky loved how you enjoyed being with him after everything he had told you, and how you accepted him for who he is now.

When you eventually told Marge that you and Bucky were official, she wasn’t surprised at all and brought up how she always said you would find someone. When Bucky had told his best friend, Buck was happy for him and gave Bucky his fair share of I told you so’s.

#callum turner x reader #callum turner #callum turner imagine #major john egan x reader #major john egan #mota #mota fanfic #mastersoftheair #austin butler x reader #major gale cleven #austin butler

[pedrostylez]

Something Else-Pt. 1

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: You're dragged out to a night at the bar by your friend Anna, remeeting her boyfriend and his friends. But this time, they've brought another friend that you're pretty sure they are trying to set you up with

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 3.9k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened but is not mentioned as of yet, eventual smut (not this chapter but it will build), fluff, pet names, friendships, jealousy, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Hi there! I'm very excited to be putting this story out there that I have been thinking about for a while but wasn't willing to write down until I had more of a plan and some organization. I am not at the point where I know how many parts it will be, BUT fun things are planned regardless. Let me know what you think :)

Anna is your prettiest friend. To be honest, you envied her, always pulling guys that you silently had your eye on, confidently going through life without a care in the world. She was talented that way and unintentionally attracted everyone around her to her realm. You wished you could be like her in some ways. 

You loved her like a sibling and wanted nothing but to make her happy; except to maybe go to the bar with her tonight. “Please, honey? Santi is bringing a couple friends.” She whined, looking at you through the mirror as she was applying the last of her lip gloss. Her dress was tight-tighter than you had ever seen her in before, pink and ruched over her abdomen like she stepped right out of the 2000s. You had never really thought about wearing a dress like that. 

You sighed heavily, adjusting the shirt that you had already put on for the occasion to cover your belly button. You were willing a couple hours ago, but as it got later you started to think it wasn’t worth it anymore. The way your bra dug into your side, the way your underwear was never really in the right place so that it didn’t show lines under your jeans made you want to take it all off-and seeing her dressed the way she was made you feel inadequate.  “If we don’t leave in the next 10 minutes I’m bailing. I want to be in my pajamas and eating popcorn, not…standing around watching you make out with your boyfriend.”

Anna tried to hide her smile in the mirror, but you knew she was satisfied, standing up and fluffing her hair once more before grabbing her purse. She seemed to be on a mission you weren’t privy to yet, and quickly turned around to you. “Perfect, because we are leaving now.”

Holding back the eye roll was a job all on its own. 

The prep in the back of the taxi made you more nervous. You had met Santiago before-referred to as Pope by his buddies Will and Benny. It had been at this same bar you were going to that you had first met Santiago, and had given him a strained smile before leaving and not seeing him again for months. It was not lost on you how many times Anna had suggested going out again, wanting to reminisce or some shit at this same place. It was always a hard pass.  

Something about the bar you were heading to was going to make you dizzy. Maybe it was the way it used to be a dance hall, and the sweat of past people lingered in your nose, or maybe it was how it was too dark, even with the strobing lights. But being prepped for it in the back of the taxi made you want to hurl. “It will be Santi, Will, Benny and they are bringing Frankie,” Anna says nonchalantly, staring down at her phone and typing out a text message. 

“Who’s Frankie?” You asked quietly, looking out the window as the taxi slowed down at the red light just before the bar. There was a line out the door and standing and waiting to go in made you want to get out now and start walking back. 

“He has come the past couple of times, but he was on the same team as Santi.” Anna brushes off, looking down at her phone again before smiling like a giddy child-must be Santi on the other end. 

The same team. Great. 

It was nothing against Will and Benny, but they were…characters. All three of them, Santi, Will, and Benny together were overwhelming. Benny and Will were polite, kind and would speak to you while Santi and Anna were all over each other, but they had their sights on other people. Not that you wanted to be with them-the brothers were intimidating. Will had given you the most amount of attention for a couple of times you had been dragged along, but it wasn’t interesting to you.  And that is what you assumed Frankie would be. Friend groups that were formed in the military and called themselves a team seemed like a disaster. 

Stepping out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk was simple enough, especially when Anna squealed and started running toward Santi. His arms were open, smiling, and ready to catch her as she launched herself into his arms. Adjusting your shirt again to cover your stomach, plastering a smile onto your face, and greeting Will when he gives you a wave. His arm is quick to get around your shoulder and drag you forward, a one-sided hug squeezed into you. “You tagging along tonight?” He asks quietly, looking down at you. 

“Yeah, figured I would try to be fun for once. But Anna only got me here after I threatened to stay home if she took too much longer.” You laugh out, looking up to Will and over to Benny. You see a baseball cap just behind him, who you assume to be Frankie. 

“This is Frankie!” Anna screeches, scrambling out of Santiago’s grip to grab onto Frankie’s arm. She motions over to you and introduces you to him, smiling widely. 

The men around you are silent, watching you and Frankie smile politely at each other. This suddenly feels…planned. “They drag you here too?” You ask quietly, watching a blush creep up his cheeks as he takes a hand out of his pocket and scratches the back of his neck. 

You feel Will push you forward, letting go of your shoulder and nonchalantly pick up a conversation with Benny. Anna is still watching on, smiling and giddy and you just know this was her idea. “Uh, yeah. They said it was fun.” Frankie says just as quietly, clearing his throat and looking over at Anna puzzled. 

Santiago swoops in, grabbing Anna around the waist and lifting her off her feet. “Let’s go, gang, the bouncer knows us.”

You look at Frankie knowingly, patting his arm and stepping in front of him to trail behind Anna. This seemed like it was going to be a longer night than you had originally intended, but at least you weren’t the quietest of the group. You miss the look that Will gives Frankie once you’ve stepped in front, and how Frankie pushes Will out of his way to trail behind you. 

Frankie had not wanted to go out. Will had hit him up with a “wanna get laid tonight?” and Frankie had rolled his eyes. He was not in the mood to deal with Will’s antics. 

But when Pope called him shortly after, said he was bringing his girl and one of her friends, that she wasn’t interested in Will or Benny but that Frankie would be perfect to get her to be less uptight…Frankie sighed and said sure. 

This always seemed to happen. The boys would set him up with some girl that none of them liked so that they could pursue other options. Frankie didn’t mind-he rarely slept with them, and the girls were always beautiful. They were just never his type. Frankie was used to being the babysitter of the group. 

Standing around and waiting outside the bar made him anxious for some reason. He had never been to this bar and was being coached by Benny on how you acted. “She’s tough. She gives no leeway. Will tried to swoop in with her twice now and both times she has just left. She buys her own drinks too, don’t even bother.”

It piqued Frankie’s interest that Will had gone after you and you had turned him down. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a babysitting scenario. 

When you stepped out of the taxi completely calm, watching Anna beeline it for Santi, Frankie slid behind Benny. You were, in fact, gorgeous. And the way you smiled at Will didn’t convince Frankie that he was totally off limits. The way your hair slid over your shoulder as you looked up at Will; the small smile you graced him with made Frankie want to melt into a puddle. There was no way he would be able to carry a conversation with you. 

And then you spoke to him so softly. “They drag you here too?” As if you didn’t dress for the part, or look like you were meant to be dancing in a club. And the way you touched his arm as you passed him had him frozen in place, eyeing Will with that knowing look. They set him up and he wasn’t sure he was mad about it anymore. 

An hour had gone by and you were people watching from the bar. Will and Frankie were behind you as you spoke to Benny. “Don’t you think I can go home yet?” You whined, dizzy from the tequila shots that Will had supposedly bought for Anna, and forgot that she didn’t drink tequila. A rum and coke sat in your hand, swirling the ice and taking another sip. You were feeling warm, sweat on your hairline that made you wish you had brought a hair tie.

“Why would you go home now?” Will yelled in your ear, sweaty hand touching your shoulder to get you to turn around. You spun too quickly, feeling Will’s hand tighten around you for an instant to make sure you were okay, smiling at him as a silent thanks. You locked eyes with Frankie for a moment, his stare burning into your skin. 

“You guys are boring.” You smiled sweetly, laughing when Will scoffed and bumped Frankie in the shoulder. 

“Can you believe that? She says we’re boring.” He yells again. 

You reach up to your ear and rub at your jaw, the sound of the bass hurting your inner ear. You glance over to the outside deck area that is relatively unoccupied and has an exit stair to the sidewalk below for quick escapes. It’s tempting to slowly make your way over there, maybe make a run for it and hail a cab before anyone notices. Anna wouldn’t be too mad-it’s not the first time you’ve just left after giving it an hour's chance? You glance back to where Will has removed himself, bopping into a circle of dancing girls, and see Frankie sliding up the bar to you. His arm is warm against yours, the smell of his cologne tickling at your nose. Citrus? He leans in to say something, but you can’t hear him. 

You shake your head and tap at your ear again, crinkling up your face as a sorry. He pauses and looks to be debating something before grabbing your hand, motioning for the outside deck. His hand in yours feels rough but gentle, a quick squeeze to hold your attention. You nod, smiling at him for reading your mind. 

You can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders are as you trail behind him, his hand still holding on to your hand to lead you to the deck. His shirt is tight across his arms, his small nod to excuse himself through the crowd before he turns around to check on you. When he opens the door for you to step out ahead of him, the sound immediately drops away into the sound of cars passing by. “Oh, thank god.”

“It’s too loud in there to have a conversation,” Frankie says with a small chuckle, shutting the door behind him and taking a sip of his beer. He stares at you for a moment, unsure what to say next.

“Easier to escape too.” You sigh, sitting on one of the stools and looking at him. It’s the first time you’ve been able to actually look at Frankie straight on. His shoulders are screaming to be out of his shirt, and his hair is curling at the edges of his cap sitting firmly on his head. It could be the alcohol currently in your system, but you want to reach out and touch one of them. 

He takes a step over to the stool next to yours, bumping your arm gently before looking out onto the street below. “I tried asking in there if you had been to this bar before?” He sounds nervous, and you plaster on a smile to ease his tension. 

You nodded along, sipping again on your rum and coke. “Yeah. Anna said you had come along the past couple of times?”

Frankie’s eyebrows furrow, looking over at you and then blushing. “I uh…I’ve not been here before, no.” He laughs, taking another sip of his drink. “This is the first time I’ve met Anna, actually.”

You tilt your head at him, curious about his answer. “You’ve never met her before?” 

When he shakes his head no, your brain takes longer to catch up than usual. But looking back into the bar and seeing Will, Benny, and Anna all looking back at you, scrambling away from the window, tells you that it was all a ploy. “We were set up, it seems.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. 

Of course, Anna was setting you up with a complete stranger. Sure, Frankie was cute but you didn’t know anything about him beyond his broad shoulders and his blush. Why did she assume you couldn’t take care of yourself? You turn back to him after sipping down the rest of your drink. “Sorry, they dragged you into this.”

Frankie’s laugh relaxes your annoyed expression, his eyes bright with humor. “Don’t worry about it.” He sighs and faces you again. “Benny was telling me that you’ve turned him and Will down twice.”

You scoff, finishing off your drink. “They haven’t asked!” You exclaim, smiling when he chuckles. “Both times I’ve met them they have walked off to talk to other girls.”

“Did you want them to talk to you? Will seems pretty interested.” Frankie amends, motioning to the window again where you can see Will grinding on some girl, Benny shaking his head at the bar at his brother in slight disgust. “Well…not when he’s doing that.”

You laugh, hiccupping at the end before facing Frankie and shaking your head. “Maybe I’m just tipsy, but he’s kinda boring.” You admit, shrugging. “And if they think they’ve tried and I’ve not noticed then I’m not sure it would work out anyways.”

Frankie hums, setting his beer down. “What makes you notice? When someone is trying, I mean.” He says quietly, his hand laying on the bartop between you, fingers outstretched casually in your direction. 

You shrug, clicking your tongue. “I think that’s hard to pinpoint. I guess I have to want the attention too.” You admit. Curiosity gets the better of you and you look at him again. “What do you do to show you’re interested?”

Frankie doesn’t move, squinting his eyes slightly before tipping his head back and forth. “Depends. I’m not…not usually very loud about my intentions. Not dancing up on someone,” He motions to where Will is still grinding, now with another girl. “But I like having private conversations. Seeing what someone is like.”

Your eyes trail down Frankie’s neck as he’s talking, his neck muscles moving as he motions to the rest of the bar, the way he’s leaning. When he stops, you look back up to his eyes to see this quiet smirk gracing his face, as if he caught you checking him out. “What am I like?”

He smiles fully, teeth white under his plush lips before he shakes his head. “Well, you’re…something else. I haven’t figured you out yet.”

You hum, tapping your finger on the bartop before coming to the conclusion that you do want to leave, but want some company. “Would you want to walk me home to find out more?”

It’s like Frankie is frozen, unsure of what move to make. You’re suddenly worried that you shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have offered and you’re about to take it back when he says “Of course.”

Frankie is really nervous. Like, he’s not sure if he should have offered to walk you home-not because he doesn’t want to, but because he thinks he is going to make a right fool of himself on this walk, no matter how many shots you’ve had. 

You’re swaying as you walk, bumping into him every once in a while and giggling when you do. He wants to wrap his arm around your shoulder like how Will did when he first greeted you, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries. He mumbles out a “careful" with a chuckle after the third time, making you blush bright red. “It’s alright, cariño. Do you need my help?”

You nod at him and wrap your arm around his middle, leaning your head against his chest and allowing one of his arms to wrap around your shoulders. “This is embarrassing. I was fine at the bar.” You mumble out, your jean-covered leg rubbing against the side of his as you both take steps. 

“It’s alright. You just direct me to where you want to go.” Frankie smiles, rubbing his hand up and down your exposed arm to bring some warmth to you. You feel good under his arm, wondering briefly how far away you live. 

His phone in his pocket vibrates, and he pulls it out to see a text from Benny. 

You dirty dog

Frankie rolls his eyes and shoves it back in, continuing on your trek down the sidewalk. “How far do you live from here?”

“Only a couple blocks, I swear.” You say quickly, snapping your head up to him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, is this too long of a walk?” You hiccup, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk with him. 

Frankie can’t help but laugh, rubbing his hand up your arm again and giving you a squeeze. “No, it’s okay.”

You nod along, allowing him to get you moving again. The streets are familiar, and the cool air is helping you be less dizzy. When you finally arrive at your front stoop, you reach in your pocket for your keys that you swear were there. Frankie watches you with a critical eye, wondering what you’re fumbling for. “I…can’t find my keys.”

Frankie stands there while you continue to look, reaching into every pocket again and then searching through your purse. He hides his smirk when you shove your purse at him for him to dig through, coming up with nothing more than a pack of gum and a few extra pens you are carrying around. “What do you want to do then, cariño?” 

The sight of you biting your lip has Frankie let out a big huff that you interpret as him being annoyed. “I’m so sorry, I uh…I don’t know what to do.” Your eyes are filling with tears quicker than he realized, his worry getting the better of him as he brings his hands to your shoulders. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll text Pope to ask if Anna has your key.” Frankie says quietly, moving the hair that has fallen in your face out of your eyes and behind your ear, pulling you to him to support you. “It’s alright, don’t worry.”

You nod solemnly, laughing at yourself briefly. “I don’t typically act like this, I swear.” You sniffle, pulling away slightly and smiling. “I wanted to stay home tonight and watch a movie but Anna had insisted–”

“Don’t worry.” Frankie amends again, bringing his palm to your cheek and feeling how you lean into him. He’s taking a chance, but he wants to spend more time with you. “Do you want to go to my place and watch a movie? That way we don’t have to wait for Pope?”

Your eyes are glazed over as you stare at him, contemplating what he has said. “Yeah…okay. I think that’s okay.”

Frankie is just so nice. You had never really come across someone that was just so plainly a good person. Sure, you were sure Will, Benny, and Santiago would have offered for you to go to their place and crash on their couch too, but they had met you a few times. 

Frankie just met you and is giving you an extra shirt and pair of sweatpants and has already told your friend where you are. He’s turned on his TV and set it up to automatically turn off after a few hours, and he’s sitting on the other end of the couch with his hat still on, his jeans changed for matching sweatpants and is intent on staring at the screen. He’s set a pillow and a fluffy blanket on the coffee table in front of you both, enticingly soft looking.

You were able to look at your phone and see that Anna had messaged you multiple emojis that held innuendos, but you’ve been unable to answer with a definitive of whether or not those emojis would even be accurate in the morning. You glance over to Frankie as he adjusts his leg, eyes locking with his briefly which makes him blush. “You uh…you’re very polite.”

Frankie lets out a quick chuckle at that. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You nod, a smile barely raising before a yawn escapes and you lean farther back into Frankie’s couch. The leather is warm under your fingers, sagging with you as you lean back and enveloping you in its warmth. You close your eyes, feeling the alcohol still move through your bloodstream like it is on a mission to keep you drunk. You faintly hear the TV, not thinking much about it before nodding off fully. 

You vaguely wake up when you feel calloused hands on your shoulder, mumbling incoherently. “Cariño? Do you need help?”

You think this is a strange question until you open your eyes, seeing Frankie in front of you without his baseball cap on, and a small smile. “What?”

Frankie brings a hand up to your cheek, his thumbs coming up to smooth your eyebrows over and over again in a soothing motion. “It’s clearly time for bed.” He chuckles out, eyes searching your face before looking back into your heavily lidded eyes. “Do I need to carry you?”

You don’t really understand what he means until he has lifted you over his shoulder, laughing when you grunt out in surprise. You’re being walked through his apartment, the hallway dark, and the TV light only showing bits and pieces of the living room. He sets you down gently on cool sheets, laying you back and pulling up the covers. “I thought I was sleeping on the couch.” You say quietly, looking up at Frankie again. 

He pauses for only a moment before pulling the blankets higher, up to your chin. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He scoffs, pushing the hair on your forehead away again before giving you a final smile. “The bathroom is just across the hall.”

Frankie shut off the lights on his way out the door and turned to see you had already shut your eyes again, mouth falling open as it had on his couch when he had turned to see your reaction to the joke on the screen and found you asleep. 

He releases a sigh as he sits down on the couch again, reaching for his pillow and blanket that he set out and arranging himself to continue to watch what was mindlessly playing. He can’t stop thinking about how you leaned into him when he would touch your face, or how you began tearing up when you thought he would be upset with you. 

His eyes begin to droop, wondering what made you think he would react differently, and hoping you would let him show you otherwise. 

tagging @meveispunk because she wanted to know when this would be posted :) if anyone else wants to be part of the updates just shoot me a message!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fluff #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #something else

[theblueseassoul]

“Home.”

Home - where the people are that you love the most.

Xavier x reader

Love and deepspace fan fiction

No warnings

No use of Y/n. Gender neutral reader. read in the second person. Established relationship. Shorter fan fiction, it’s midnight and I am tired. Enjoy

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. “ my shooting star. “

If someone asked you where home was, it wouldn’t be a place. Sure, your apartment was your home, you lived there, but when you said you wanted to go home you usually meant you were going to go see Xavier. He had been your home before you even realized it, but you would never complain because he was perfect. Sleepy all the time- but perfect.

You stand in a bar with your co workers, Tara sipping her fruity drink and glancing over at you. She grinned “you’re getting that look again.” She nudged your shoulder as you sipped your drink of choice. You blinked a few times and glanced over, raising a brow. She grinned even wider “you’re getting all mopey.” She poked your cheek.

You laughed softly at your drunk friend, gently pushing her finger away and trying to remember how much she had to drink. You sipped your drink and sighed “I’m not mopey. I just want to go home.” You explained vaguely. This resulted in even more giggling as she finished off her bright orange and red drink.

“You miss blondie.” She stated and motioned to your phone “ask him to pick you up! I’m.. going to stay here a while longer.” You shook your head and stood, pushing away her glass and putting the cash for your drinks and snacks on the bar counter for the barkeep, who nodded in acknowledgment before you spoke to Tara.

“No, sweets you are not. I’ll call you a cab, okay?” You told her, pulling her up from her chair. She agreed, she wasn’t a very fight-y drunk. The pair of you waved to the other hunters before stepping outside while you called a taxi for Tara. She melted into you, almost knocking you off balance as she babbled on about nonsense. Some of it seemed sentimental and some of it was words you swore she made up. When the cab got there, you helped her into the car and made sure she was all set and comfortable before bidding her goodbye.

“Byee!!!!” She smiled sweetly, waving as you shut the door. You imagine she waved back at you through the back window until the car turned a corner, or until you were just too far away to make out. Then, your phone buzzed. You glanced down at it, clicking into the notification.

Xavier꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ: where are u?

You’d smile at the little sleeping bunny icon you put next to his contact name, but replied swiftly after it displayed read, because you didn’t want to make him worried by not replying. You’d done that before and he had tracked you down like a police dog.

You: just finished up with a little team dinner. Tara got drunk, sent her home w/ a taxi

Xavier꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ: ohhh

Xavier꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ: do u wanna walk home tgt? I’m nearby

You: Please!! We can sleep together at the house

Xavier꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ ⌒)ᦱ: See you soon

You didn’t wait long. Xavier always seemed to be close by, it weirded you out at first but now it was almost comforting to think he was only a few steps away. You walked hand in hand, the feeling of loneliness in your chest now replaced with content. You didn’t have any fancy words for it, you just felt happy. You two didn’t share a home but he spent so much time over at your apartment he practically lived there, but the same goes for you at his. Since you felt too lazy to go up just one floor, you ended up staying in his apartment. You changed into comfortable clothes you left in the dresser in xaviers room, which also was.. yours at this point. You even left some of your stuffed animals here, and a few things like a brush, work papers, your books even sat in the corner of the room on the desk next to his laptop.

Xavier gently knocked on the door, “can I come in?” He asked, sleepiness always evident in his voice. It was almost cute.

“Come on in.” You replied, standing at the mirror in the bathroom that was in his room, touching up your hair and making sure you didn’t smell of alcohol. You heard him shuffle in, and saw him come up behind you in the mirror. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m tired.” He complained, coming out as a mumble against your skins. You hummed in response and glanced at him, placing a hand over his firmly resting against your abdomen. He pulled you to the bed slowly but surely, and you had to stretch to turn off the bathroom light before it was out of reach. Xavier wasted no time at all, flicking off the bedroom light and pulling you down onto his large bed. You shifted, now facing him as he tangled his limbs with yours, already preparing to sleep. His head rested against your shoulder, his breath softly brushing against your neck as he held you tight. There was a long silence before you said,

“I missed you.” You almost whispered to him as you played with his hair. His fidgeting with your shirt paused, and he moved to look into your eyes.

They looked like a puppies. “Mm. Really?” He asked, a lazy, sweet smile resting over his lips. You nodded and he leaned in, nuzzling your noses together. ‘Bunny kisses’ you called them. It was a thing you two did, ‘your thing.’ “ ‘missed you too.” He whispered back, pressing a kiss to your lips. Kisses with him were never quick. There was never one. He pulled away but would kiss you again, and again, and again until he decided he had enough. Finally, he would kiss you a little longer this time, squeezing you close. It was gentle, always so soft and careful, however he kissed you as if he needed it like he needed air. When he pulled away, he looked so happy with himself, returning to the crook of your neck.

This warmth, the smell of lavender on the pillows, the familiar feeling of his slow deep breaths, the sound of the curtains being pushed by a gentle breeze, the feeling of now was home. This was where you belonged, you thought. Here in his arms, muttering soft sweet words to each other until you fell asleep. You leaned your head against his, curling around him slightly and tried to burn it into your mind. You needed to remember these little moments. They were your favorite.

#x reader #love and deep space xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #love and deep space