#i feel like will’s idea of dressing up is a nice pair of sandals | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Note

The sexual tension between the prompts ‘i shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you’ and ‘say you want me, and i’m yours’

Please give this to us with Javier Peña

(Also these prompts are so Javier Peña coded, I couldn’t think about anyone but him)

Nonnie, you are not alone in not being able to think about anyone else but Javier Peña for these prompts because I'm right there with you.

Firstly, I apologise - I got TOTALLY carried away with this and managed nearly 3K words for this prompt. Secondly, I apologise for what this is going to do to you all.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 2.7K (Oooops, right?)

Porn with plot below the cut. Mention of religion, drinking, smoking, and description of unprotected piv sex and oral (f receiving). ENJOY.

Javier Peña is in trouble, there is no denying it. When he came back to Laredo after the shitstorm in Colombia he’d wanted a quiet life. Helping Chucho around the ranch, maybe getting in his truck to take weekend trips to places he’d never been before, all the things he thought he was supposed to do with his extremely early retirement from the DEA. He hadn’t banked on the daughter of the towns pastor bounding into his life and testing every ounce of resolve he’d ever had.

He wasn’t a religious man. There was no way he could be with what he’d seen or done in South America, but when Chucho had insisted on him attending church with him in the week that he’d come back, spouting something about needing to get back into town life instead of hiding himself away, his eyes had landed straight on the innocent girl sat in the front row, hands folded on her lap, listening intently to what the pastor was saying.

“Since when did we have a new pastor?” Javier had asked when they’d made it outside, cigarette firmly between his lips despite telling himself he’d give up.

“Moved in a few months ago,” His dad had replied, “Seem a nice family, I think their daughter is twenty-five, just back from college.”

He’d nodded in understanding, trying not to let his eyes drag down your figure too much as you stood with your father at the door of the church to shake hands with everyone filing out to go about their Sunday business. He couldn’t help it though. You were shorter than him with hair falling around your face, framing it perfectly. That day you’d dressed in a modest white dress, falling just below the knee with sandals and he couldn’t help but compare you to an angel in his mind. An angel that he wanted so desperately to corrupt from the second he'd laid eyes on you.

“Bad idea son,” Chucho had warned, “Of all the people in this town you could look at like that, this has to be the worst one.”

He really had tried to heed his father’s advice. He knew it would be a terrible idea. A girl like you needed a straight and narrow man, someone to put a ring on your finger, buy you a house with a white picket fence and have babies. He was not that man. He would never be that man. However, from that day forward he’d seen you more and more.

The first time he struck up a conversation with you was in the grocery store. Chucho had sent him into town to pick up some ingredients for dinner and he’d found you with your head in the freezer section, two pints of ice cream in front of you, trying to decide which one you wanted.

“The mango one is my personal favourite.” He’d offered his advice, feeling like he’d been shot through the chest when you turned to look at him, big, beautiful eyes with an innocence to them he’d not seen in a long time.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had mango ice cream before.” You’d replied.

“Well then, you have to try it and then you have to let me know what you think.”

He watched as you smiled at him, setting down the other pint of vanilla ice cream to put the mango in your shopping basket.

“I don’t think we’ve met properly,” Javier spoke, “I’m Javier.” He held out his hand which you took, immediately overwhelmed with how soft your skin was and how small your hand was in his.

You introduced yourself, “I think I’ve seen you at church.”

“I have to admit I’m not a religious man, I just go because my father insists,” He’d admitted, “Probably not the best thing to say to the pastor’s daughter though.” You’d laughed, “Between me and you, I’m not religious either.”

He made a motion that he was zipping his lips which made you laugh even further. A sound so sweet he’d convinced himself he needed to do everything he could so he could hear it at much as possible.

After that he’d found himself running into you more often. He’d make excuses to go to town in the hopes of running into you, he’d figured out your routine – you had lunch with friends at the diner on a Tuesday, always went to pick up ice-cream on a Friday evening and were always at church on Sunday. He’d even joined the library, figuring out you went on a Saturday afternoon to spend an hour picking out a new book and reading the first few pages sat on one of the benches there – something he’d started doing to just so he could spend time with you. He knew he was in too deep. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to get close to you, but the more he learnt about the less he could help himself.

His father had always been a perceptive man and he knew what was going on. Why else would his son be rushing to shower in the middle of the day, changing into shirts that weren’t covered in mud and full of holes to disappear into town for hours on end. It came to a head one Saturday evening when they were sat on the front porch drinking beers together.

“So, are you actually ever going to ask her out, or just follow her around like a lost puppy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi had replied, feigning innocence.

“We both know you’re not that stupid,” He’d stated, “Although I always thought you’d be smarter than to think a guy like you would be good for a girl like her.”

Javier would have been offended but it was true. Colombia had traced a darkness through him that he couldn’t shake. Waking up in cold sweats from the nightmares, glaring at the boats he saw riding down the river knowing exactly where they were going and with what on board, remembering all the people who had died, and for what? When he wasn’t with you he was closed off and hard and did he really want that to rub off on you?

“I don’t mean to say you’re a bad person son, far from it,” Chucho had added, “But you’re different since you came back and there something in you that isn’t good for her, isn’t good for you.”

He’d wanted to tell Chucho that he was sure you could help to heal him. That the sunshine and joy you exuded at every moment would be enough to take away the pain he was holding in, but it was too much to ask of you and he knew it. It wasn’t your job to fix his broken shell and he knew better than to ask.

From that day forward he’d stopped going to town so much. He’d returned his last library book and not gone back and his appearance at church was now pretty much non-existent. Chucho had even stopped asking him to go into town for groceries, opting to do it himself.

He knew he couldn’t avoid you forever, but he’d hoped by pulling away that whatever attachment you’d both formed to each other would dissipate. How wrong he had been.

***

The end of summer had arrived, soon it would be harvesting time and then Christmas would soon follow but not until the community came together for the end of summer cookout. Javier had thought about not going but Chucho had insisted. Said people had been asking after him and that he needed to show his face to prove he was still alive if nothing else.

It was warm and he was sipping a beer when he spotted you, stood with a group of your friends with a can of soda in your hand. You’d waved at him when your eyes met, and he’d lifted his bottle in acknowledgement before going back to the conversation he had found himself wound up in with his father and another rancher about the types of feed they were giving to their cattle.

It wasn’t until later that evening when he was fishing around the barrel for another beer that you appeared next to him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” You’d said bluntly.

“I haven’t, I’ve just been busy.”

“Right, okay,” He knew you could see right through him, “You’ve definitely been avoiding me.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ve been avoiding you.” He finally admitted.

“Why?” You’d asked.

God why were you so different? Any other woman he’d spent time with would have taken the hint and left, but not you. You wanted your explanation, seemingly unfazed with what it would be.

“Just seemed like the right thing to do.” He shrugged.

For some reason he’d expected you to be upset but you’d mirrored his shrug, seemingly accepting the stupid excuse for an explanation. He went to turn but felt your hand grab him, squeezing it before turning and walking away, revealing that you’d left a small scrap of paper in his palm.

He looked closely at it and found an address scrawled on it. He knew exactly where it was. The address for the park just outside of town. He knew because when he’d been here at school it was where all the teenage couples had gone to have privacy from prying eyes. There was a big tree at the end of the park which had famously been the place many of his classmates, including him had lost their virginity. Next to the address, the words 9pm tonight. Were scrawled next to it. He shouldn’t go, he really shouldn’t, but then when has Javier ever listened to logic?

***

You were already there when he arrived in his truck, leant against the tree waiting for him. He cut the truck off and switched his headlights off, grateful that the sun was still setting, giving you both enough light to see each other.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” You admitted as he walked to you.

“I considered not coming.” Was his own admission.

“Why did you?” Came the next question.

“Probably something to do with leaving my moral compass at the airport when I arrived in Colombia and never going back for it.”

“Lucky Colombia,” You mused, “I’d like to see what that actually means.”

“Hermosa,” He groaned, “You can’t do this to me.” But he was stepping towards you instead of stepping away.

“It’s actually all your fault Javier,” You smirked, moulding yourself into the tree further as he stepped towards you, “If you hadn’t talked to me about mango ice cream or joined the library just to sit in silence with me and read we’d both be fine,” You looked up at him through your eyelashes as he came to stop right in front of you – the slightest movement and he’d be pressed up against you, “Now all you need to do is kiss me.”

“I shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you.” He spoke, mostly to himself than anything else.

“Say you want me and I’m yours, Javi.”

If he wasn’t already damned to hell he was now. His lips were on yours in the blink of an eye, hands cupping either side of your face as you opened your mouth for him, letting his tongue into your mouth as you groaned. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his and he let out a similar noise to you, moving his hands from your face to the swell of your ass through your dress to pull you as close to him as he possibly could.

You pulled away from his mouth, pushing him back slightly to lean back against the tree. He watched with fire in his eyes as you pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing to him that you were bare under your dress.

He fell to his knees in front of you, not caring about the dust and dirt his jeans would inevitably pick up, “Querida, eres el diablo.” He’d spoken before placing his hands at your hips, watching you shuffle your feet apart.

His mouth was like white hot heat when it touched your pussy. All those nights spent in your room touching yourself over what it would feel like for Javier to finally touch you were over, and it was better than you ever could have hoped. His tongue was quick and precise, finding your clit and homing in on it in seconds, switching between quick flicks and circles to taking it into his mouth and sucking. Your head was thrown back against the tree in pleasure, your hand threaded into his hair to keep his mouth exactly where you needed it. Within minutes you were cumming on his tongue with his name falling from your lips in a moan.

Your chest was heaving in an attempt to catch your breath when Javi rose from his knees in front of you. He sealed his mouth back to yours, letting his tongue tangle with yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You took hold of his belt loops and pulled him towards you, making light work of undoing the button on his jeans and taking the zip down before he took over, pushing them and his underwear down to pool at his ankles as he lifted you up to wrap your legs around his hips.

“This isn’t… I mean, sorry this is going to sound weird, but this isn’t your first time, right?” Javier spoke, his cock nudging at your weeping entrance whilst he had you pressed against the tree with your legs wrapped around him.

You threw your head back in a laugh, of course he’d ask that right now as his cock was almost inside of you, “Javier, I’m just from a religious family, I’m not a nun,” You shifted your hips as an invitation, “Now please for the love of God, put your cock inside me.”

He did exactly as you’d asked, sheathing his cock in your pussy in one straight motion that had you crying out his name into the ever-darkening night. If you’d have asked Javi if when he pictured the first time, he fucked you it would have been up against a tree, completely bare with nothing but the birds to keep you company he’d have laughed. A girl like you deserved a bed, being fucked by candlelight after he tipped you over the edge with his fingers, then his mouth and then both together before slipping inside of you. He couldn’t say he was complaining though.

Your tight pussy was clenching around him as he thrusted into you, his hand at the swell of your ass to keep you upright. The moans falling from your lips were scandalous and anytime you mixed his name into them he thought he would lose it. You’d begged him to go harder and faster and then begged him to kiss your neck. At one point the straps of your dress fell from your shoulders which in turn made the material fall away from your chest and his lip had latched onto your nipple before you even knew what was happening.

“Hermosa, I’m gonna cum, you need to tell me where you want me.”

“Let me go.” You breathed out.

He did, letting himself slip from your delicious wet heat before setting your feet on the ground. He was almost disappointed until he watched you drop to your knees in front of him and open your mouth.

“Maldito infierno.” Javi whispered to the sky, before locking his eyes with your own as he pumped his cock with his fist.

It took no time at all for him to let out a low groan and cum on your tongue. He’d done his best to make sure it landed in your mouth but his cum painted your cheeks and your chin by the time he was done. His eyes never left yours as he watched you swallow what he’d giving you in your mouth and then watched as your fingers scooped what was left on the rest of your face, devouring that too.

Maybe you hadn’t been the innocent little thing he’d thought you were after all.

#panda writes prompts #Pedro pascal #javier pena #narcos #Javier pena smut #javier pena fic #Javier pena fanfic #Javier pena x you #Javier pena x reader #Javier pena x female reader #Javier pena x f!reader #Javier pena x Pedro pascal #Javier pena fan fiction #JP drabbles

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years

Text

Lay all your love on me

Summary: Jake has fallen for Penny’s niece working as a bartender at the Hard Deck for the summer. Too bad he doesn’t know how to show it.

pairing: jake seresin x penny’s niece!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of an age gap, j*ke being an asshat, pet names, smut at the end, am I forgetting anything??? pls lemme know! MDNI 18+

feel free to send me a message or ask with requests/ ideas pls <3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was the third time this night Jake had seen you talking to that scumbag hanging near to the bar top. What did he have that Jake didn’t? Girls didn’t even like short guys (said scum bag was an inch shorter but Jake would be damned if the world didn’t know). He had never felt like this before in relation to a woman, usually they were the ones pining for him from afar. It was a pathetic sight to see for the rest of the dagger squad,

“Seriously bagman who pissed in your beer?”

Jake looked up from where he had been perched against the pool table and scowled at Rooster, did he ever shut his mouth? Now his gaze had finally been diverted from you he felt a surge of anger as he clenched slightly too hard around the neck of his beer bottle.

“Just go talk to her, with some of that Texan charm hopefully she can look past how horrifically you bombed yesterday.” Rooster smirked into his Stella.

At the reminder of yesterdays occurrence Jake squirmed in distaste.

“Come on ‘bombed’ is a bit harsh,” Bob spoke back to Rooster in Jakes defence.

Phoenix snorted so hard into her beer that some shot out of her nose and Fanboy let out a squeal as the nose beer hit his arm, alerting everyone in the hard deck (and probably a five mile radius because damn who knew fanboy had pipes) of their group. Payback began to pat Phoenix on the back and coaxed her back into a normal state of breathing but not before you could turn and mouth “you okay?” To Phoenix to which she replied with a forced smile and a thumbs up which appeased you and allowed you to turn back to ‘scumbag’.

“‘Bombed’ is putting it lightly Bob, don’t coddle him.” Phoenix croaked, and Jake finally spoke up “Look I didn’t mean what I said, I know I fucked up, bad.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Last night…

You and Jake had been dancing around each other for for a while now, it marked the third week you’d been in Miramar as you had been banished to your aunts for the summer because your mother had insisted you get some sunshine before your last year of college. Spending three months surrounded by hot navy men seemed ideal to you and you had hoped it involved a lot of beach time but alas, your dear aunt penny had roped you into becoming her newest bartender after the last had quit after a run in with a piano, a tray of drinks, a man named after a male chicken and one rowdy cover of great balls of fire.

The game you and Jake played was simple, you knew he was a flirt, heard the stories from your aunt of his heart of gold but sluttish tendencies with civilian girls in town for the summer. You knew you couldn’t be one of those girls but god was he making it hard.

Jake strolled up to the bar where you were drying glasses with a rag and tapping you sandal covered foot to the pina colada song. He leaned on to the bar top and let out a low whistle.

“That a nice sundress Sweets, I didn’t realise we were dressing up for each other now,” Jake drawled raking his eyes up and down the ditsy floral sundress you had worn (admittedly for him but he didn’t have to know).

“In your dreams flyboy,” You scoffed with a smirk looking into his eyes. The wedge sandals gave you a small amount of height advantage but your eyes still had to wander upwards to meet his.

“Every night, doll.” Jake pestered you further

“Sweets or doll? Which one is it?” You questioned but he didn’t falter, he never did.

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Jake whipped out the big guns expecting you to simper, “darlin’,”

You looked him straight into the eyes and couldn’t help but giggle,

“Seriously cowboy? How often does that one work? Got all the southern belles swooning I imagine?” You snorted watching a flicker of embarrassment twinge in Jake’s eye but he stayed strong.

Truthfully, that’s why Jake hadn’t given up on you, you were funny and clever (probably much more than him) and dished it right back when he was being obnoxious, which was something Jake admired so deeply. Sure he thought that you were beautiful but so would anyone, it started out embarrassingly enough with Jake wanting you to be another notch on his belt but he couldn’t deny his desire to know more than just what you looked like in his bed. He wanted to make you snort when you laughed too hard and not feel embarrassed about it, he wanted to be lectured by you when he said something stupid and mostly he wanted you to tell him how much you loved him after doing all of that. His insecurities crept up within him so slowly, he had never had to deal with that type of feeling before, especially for a girl so much younger than him.

So in true Jacob Seresin fashion he did what he knew best, became a cocky son of a bitch.

“Sweetheart there are girls in this room begging for me to call them darlin’,”

You rolled your eyes with a hint more malice than what Jake was used to (and perhaps something which coloured you slightly green with envy). Then instead of doing the correct thing and backing down he amped it up.

“Don’t act all high and mighty when you’re dressed like that doll.” Jake knew he was digging himself a hole.

“Like what Jake?”

He knew he’d overstepped, you never called him Jake, always ‘flyboy’, an affectionate ‘bagman’ after you’d heard your favourite pilot Phoenix say it, and Jake’s personal fave ‘cowboy’ when his accent drawls our far too smoothly than humanly possible.

“Like a slut.” He spat far too casually for your liking. He was appalled at himself, embarrassed that he’d call you something like that. Jake pleaded that you tell him off, shout and scream and make regret opening his mouth. Rather you span on your heel to serve the next patron and didn’t look his way for the rest of the night. It was so much worse.

Your lack of verbal sparring, heated glances and winks when ‘Slow Ride’ was punched into the jukebox for the umpteenth time that night had Jake on a whim of nausea that couldn’t even compare to pulling 7Gs in his F-18.

He wandered back to the group looking sullen and Bob who had been silently observing the interaction was the first to pipe up.

“What happened?”

“I called her a slut.”

“WHAT?” Phoenix shrieked grasping your attention from the bar. Your ears twitched at the sound but you knew you couldn’t look back at them. Jake had humiliated you.

“I dont fucking know whenever I look at her my brain gets scrambled and I..” Jake trailed off to look at you and felt his heart drop to his stomach whilst you readjusted the the wrap neckline of your dress to cover your cleavage and and struggle to pull the skirt of the dress as far down on your thighs as it could go.

Phoenix seethed watching you as well,

“You are going to go over there and apologise to my favourite bartender we’ve ever had, otherwise I will literally shoot you down at our next training session.”

Rooster coughed up,

“Or Penny will never let us back in here again,”

Jake squinted at him in confusion, “I mean I know she’s got the sign but what does she have to do with this,”

Rooster smiled with a knowing look that Jake feared so so deeply,

“You didn’t know Hangman? That’s Penny’s niece.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Present…

After his failed apology attempt that Jake had tried to spew at you at the beginning of the evening he hadn’t been back up to the bar, leaving the drink ordering and collection down to his teammates. Penny hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary with him at the end of last night and Jake wasn’t surprised. You were a big girl who could handle her men issues on her own without running for help. Which is why he felt so foolish to be one of those dudes you discard after a stupid [read misogynistic] mistake.

Watching the scumbag return to the bar top for the 7th time this past hour (yes Jake had been counting) he finally plucked up the courage to walk over to you.

Before he could fully make his way away from the group, Rooster caught his wrist and pulled them close together.

“Are you sure about this?”

Jake had never been one to listen to Bradley but he felt the urge to currently.

“Look Jake I can’t watch you go over there and apologise just to continue your journey of trying to get into her pants. She’s sweet, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Looking Rooster in the eyes it became so obvious to Jake how badly he had fucked up.

“I dont just want to get into her pants.”

Rooster snorted as Jake put emphasis on the word ‘just’. Jake rolled his eyes and continued.

“I feel like shit for making her feel bad about herself. I really fucking like her Bradley and i need her to see that.”

Rooster nodded and released his grip on Jake, pushing him forward,

“Go get her Loverboy!” Jake cringed as you turned to see Roosters outburst.

Powering ahead just in time to see scumbag reach to touch your bare arm Jake yanked his hand out of the way.

“What’s your fucking deal?” the guy grumbled and Jake took advantage of his height and stared the guy down.

“Do her a favour and get lost buddy.”

Whilst you would have previously enjoyed Jake coming to the rescue, your mood was still significantly dampened by the events of last night.

Was that seriously how he saw you? Just some slut who was the easiest way for him to get some attention. You hated that he made you doubt yourself and you hated yourself even more so for still craving him.

Whilst the scumbag stumbled off into the direction of some other frat boys Jake fell into his spot and looked up at you apologetically.

You beat him to being the first to speak up.

“Do you seriously think after that shit you pulled, you have the right to be jealous over who’s talking to me?”

Jake went to speak again but you cut in.

“I suppose you’re here to tell me how slutty this outfit is,” you gestured down at your cut off jean shorts and tight fitting crop top. Jake wanted to admire you but felt it best not to. He cringed at your use of ‘slutty’ but figured you deserved to let it out of your system.

After turning around to serve someone else who had turned up at the bar you returned back to Jake looking slightly more willing to hear what he had to say.

“Look doll,” you rolled your eyes albeit more playfully than last time he had seen the action, “I’m really really fucking sorry. I’m such a dick and i can’t believe I said that to you.” You looked into his eyes and waited for him to continue. He took a deep breath, knowing he had to say it.

“I like you so much it’s embarrassing, to the point where I’m so cocky it makes my head hurt because somehow it’s easier for you to hate me for being a dick rather than pity me for being down so bad for you.” Jake stopped his rambling to look up at you and see you giggling. God he’d fucked this situation even further. Now you were never gonna speak to him again, just laugh at how embarrassing this grown ass man was for falling for you. Recognising the slight spiralling look in his eyes you decided to put him out of his misery and speak up.

“You are so stupid lieutenant.” You smirked at him and Jake felt embarrassed at how his body reacted to you addressing him with his rank. You continued on, “You are so stupid if you didn’t think I was just as down bad for you.”

Jake quirked an eyebrow at you, begging he wasn’t just dreaming this up.

“Jake I’ve been sold on you since the minute you walked into this bar with that smirk on your face after calling me your favourite pet name of the hour.”

“Doll you don’t know how glad I am to hear that,” Jake beamed at you, “and I’m so fucking sorry again-” he began.

“If you don’t close your mouth and kiss me right now lieutenant,” and with that Jakes lips were on yours. It was sweet, he tasted like the bitter beer he had been sipping and the emergency tictacs he kept in his back pocket. He reached his hand around your head and guided your further into the kiss until you pulled back. Jake worried he had gone too far too soon and opened his mouth to apologise again. Instead he followed your line of sight to see your aunt staring disapprovingly down from the entrance of the bar. Until she burst into a fit of giggles, you turned your head shyly and buried it into Jakes chest and he lifted your chin with his finger.

“Care to explain what your aunt seems to find so funny doll?”

Penny walked behind the bar and began attending to patrons as she spoke to Jake with a knowing smile.

“I warned her of navy boys, told her how me and her mother were back in the day, and she assured me hurriedly that she could never be like that.” You blushed as your aunt continued on. “So imagine my surprise when I walk into my bar to see you Hangman, all over my niece.”

Jake smiled sheepishly, but spoke with his usual confidence, “Well if there’s one thing I can assure you Penny m’dear, it’s that I won’t be anything like your Maverick.”

You smacked Jake on the chest lightly at the mention of your on and off again uncle whilst Penny snorted. “ I can only pray.”

You pulled away from Jake to begin helping Penny wipe down the glasses but she immediately started shooing you away with her rag. “Please darling, do us all a favour and alleviate the heavy sexual tension which has been wreaking havoc on my bar for the past month.”

Your mouth hung open as you were reminded of your aunts often unnecessary candour. Jake laughed from behind you and yanked you up by the hips so you were sat on the bar top. Spinning round to face him your felt his hot breath hit your ear.

“What do you say doll? Let’s get out of here, I have a few ways i can think of making it up to you.” You pulled back with a blush on your face and nodded hit with a sudden loss for words.

“Get her off my bar top would you.” Penny gestured in your direction to Jake.

“Gladly.” He smirked placing his strong hands on your hips. You could feel the warmth of his skin on the sliver of your midriff that was revealed by the short nature of your tight top and denim cut offs. He picked you up and placed you down in front of him which made the height difference oh so much more appetising now he was staring right down at you.

“Let’s get out of here.” You smiled up at him tugging him by the calloused hand.

Jake turns as he’s being dragged out by you and winks at a staring and shocked Rooster and Coyote. Phoenix looks up from where she was about to kick Bob’s ass at pool and makes a mental note to text you later to get as many details as she can.

Finally leaving the Hard Deck and the cool night time sea breeze is refreshing on your flushed cheeks. The sunset is in its last stages as Jake checks the time. 21:52.

“Not to be presumptuous, but would you like to come back to mine?” Jake speaks almost, nervously? You squeeze his hand in reassurance and look up.

“I thought you’d never ask flyboy.”

Jake guides you through the hard deck’s gravel parking lot to his truck in the far corner where a tree hangs down lowly over it. You snort as you realise how fitting Jakes truck is to his personality. It’s shiny and big but you can see his air freshener dangling down revealing a Yankee candle spiced cinnamon scent. Suddenly not feeling very patient anymore you drag Jakes face down to yours with both hands and lock your lips together. It’s much more heated than the kiss in the bar, which is probably due to the confidence found in not being watched by a group of Jake’s workmates. Jake slips his tongue into your mouth making you moan out in surprise.

“God you sound so sweet doll” Jake groans against your ear moving his kisses along your neck getting sloppier as they go along as to drag out more sounds from you.

“Jake please,” you whimper almost embarrassingly far gone from just kissing. He pulls away from your neck to open the door to the drivers side of his truck and you whine from the loss of contact.

Jake chuckles at your needy state and helps you climb into his lap in an action far too gentlemanly for the current situation. Face to face sat in his truck your need for Jake only grows as he bucked his hips up into you causing you to whimper into his lips.

“Sorry doll,” Jake chuckles, “you just feel so good on top of me.”

“Easy cowboy,” you simper, “I could still walk right out of this truck if you keep teasing.”

“You wouldn’t,” Jake smirks, seeing right through your lie. Nevertheless, he continues his ministrations of kissing down your neck as you grind your hips down into his. The friction of his trouser seam and your shorts bumping against your clit with each movement was addictive.

You pull away from Jake’s latch on the base of your neck and begin to unbutton his shirt. Jake helps you as the heat verges on uncomfortable. Once his chest is bared to you a knot of fire ignites in your stomach as you trace the hair that leads down his chest into a happy trail with your finger. Jake hums contentedly and reaches for the bottom of your shirt.

“As adorable as the little top is doll, I’m much more interested in what’s underneath.” Jake signals for you to raise your arms to aid him removing your shirt and you do. Your shirt is abandoned on the passenger seat as Jake stares at your bare chest. You become slightly self conscious at his silence and reach to pull you hands in front of your breasts until Jake groans.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Jake pulls your hand that was going to cover yourself and places it between both your crotches onto his hard cock. You both moan out at the sensation. Jake reaches up to unbutton your shorts and you aid him in pulling them down and tossing them to rest with your discarded shirts, thanking the lords you opted for a cute lacy baby blue thong today instead of your trusty my little pony pants that were a common wear for you. Jake groaned again loud enough that you had half a mind to shush him.

“Doll are you actually trying to kill me?” Jake asked you with an air of honesty. You giggled in reply and reached to toy with your clit through your panties. “Yep, you definitely are.”

Jake replaced your fingers with his and pulled your panties to the side to catch a glimpse of your wetness.

“All for you lieutenant,” Jakes whole body audibly twitched at that admission and he pulled you in by the back of the head for another deep kiss with his hand that wasn’t between your legs. As you kissed messily with your free hands palming over his length Jake increased his speed and plunged his middle finger into you. You moaned against his mouth at the intrusion and whimpered trying to find something coherent to say.

“Jake please I’m so close,”

“I know doll, please cum for me.” Jake begged whilst he circled your clit once more with his thumb. Feeling you clench around him Jake repeated his actions over and over as you squirmed against him, thrashing gently as pleasure overcame you. Jake watched in awe as the girl he has dreamt about for the past month came all over his hand. Breathing hard you kissed Jake messily again as he removed his fingers from you. Parting from the kiss you watched Jake stick his fingers into his mouth and suck them clean, involuntarily clenching as you eyed his actions. Jake opened his eyes and made contact with your lust blown ones and smirked.

“Now let me actually take you back to my place doll, show you what else I can do.”

You smacked his bare chest endearingly and moved over to the passenger side to dress yourself in his button down shirt for the short drive back to his place. Jake looked over and smiled seeing you dressed in his shirt lit up by the moonlight filtering in from the windscreen, and it filled him with pride to see you finally as his girl.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

a/n: this is my first piece of writing ive actually decided to post so please comment and re blog and tell me what u think !!!

yes it was inspired by the abba song LOL i watched mamma mia yesterday and couldn’t stop thinking about jake and the whole “i wasn’t jealous before we met, now every man that i see is a potential threat,” (queue sick fighting moves)

i was also thinking about doing fics w bob and rooster inspired by mamma mia/ abba songs so whatever you want to see just lemme knowwww :)

thank u for reading

- honey <3333

#top gun #top gun movie #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #hangman fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x reader smut #hangman smut #hangman x you #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader smut #jake hangman seresin #top gun smut

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peaceteaa11 · 10 months

Text

Little Green Dress

Oneshot - Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader (Y/N)

Ratings: Mostly clean, suggestive comments and actions throughout.

Warnings: Bullying, strong language, harassment, sadness and self doubt. Let me know if I missed something.

Summary: You are nervous, but for a good reason. Hanging out with Eddie's friends is scary considering how different you look from them all. Not to mention they don't seem to like you all that much, hopefully you can change their minds this time. Of course now there is a new factor involved... Eddie's Ex will be in attendance tonight.

A/N: I wrote this at 3am because sleep will not stop me from thinking about our beloved Eddie. Here is a quick oneshot while I work on finishing up Love Luna and My Rockstar. NOT PROOFREAD

Word Count: not sure atm

***Go check out my other Eddie fics! Eddie Munson Masterlist***

You are perfect just the way you are.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

You couldn’t help but be nervous to be hanging out with Eddie’s friend group again. They all were very intimating even when they didn’t mean to be. You stuck out like a sore thumb when you hung out with them. Dressed in floral patterns, flowy sundresses, and pastels all the time whereas they all dressed like Eddie. Leather, metal, and ripped up jeans. Of course they all looked good doing it too.

You felt their judgements the first time you met them. Why would Eddie pick you of all people to date. You two looked like something out of a romcom that Steve would force you to watch when y’all were younger. Your brother was always the more sensitive one even though you looked to be the obvious answer.

You look on the mirror. Your green sundress flowing around your thighs as you twist and twirl. You love this dress but you question if it’s right for a night out with Eddie and his friends. But the outfit struggle wasn’t even the worst part of this all.

Eddie’s ex was tagging along tonight as well. Her name is Gemma. You haven’t met her before but Eddie promises she’s sweet but that doesn’t stop the worrying and honestly… jealousy from building up in your stomach. Gareth invited her.

You got the feeling that Gareth didn’t like you that much the last time you saw him. He was standoffish and a bit mean. You tried to smile through it for Eddie but honestly you couldn’t understand what you were doing wrong. Tonight you hoped you could break through to him and become friendly at least but him inviting Eddie’s ex girlfriend makes you think he’s not up for that.

Eddie was a bit peeved when he found out Gareth invited her but you could tell it was only because he saw the look on your face when he told you. Your face turned pale and you looked as if you were going to have a panic attack. Eddie assured you there was nothing to worry about.

But as you stare yourself down in the mirror holding up another dress to your body you felt yourself beginning to do just that. Panic. What if she was still in love with Eddie. He was the one who broke up with her after all. He wasn’t too specific as to why but still.

Your eyes flash between the green dress you have on and the blue dress in your hand. Light blue with a shimmer to it when it moved. You decide to change.

Once in the blue dress you smile. The soft shimmer maybe you feel more elegant than before. It was nice. God. You looked in the mirror again. All ready to go. Makeup done. Hair done, curls bouncing against your shoulders. Dress done. You grab a pair of heeled sandals and you sigh.

Here goes nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie pulls up to your house and hops out of his van you rush out the front door. You close the door behind you and just as it latches and you smile at Eddie your brothers voice scares you.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Steve’s voice is laced with worry. You turn to see him sitting on the banister to the porch drinking a soda.

“It’ll be fine.” You smile at him. You had made the mistake of confiding too much in your brother many times and this was one of those times.

“Call me if you need me.” He hums softly. You nod in response and skip down the stairs to your boyfriend who has opened the passenger side door for you.

Eddie had in ripped black jeans, his regular white Reeboks, and a loose fitting Dio shirt on. His shirt is worn and light under his black leather jacket and usual denim vest. His patches growing in number everyday it seems.

“Hi baby bat.” He smiles as he pulls you into a hug.

“Hi.” You giggle. You pull back and Eddie whistles lowly.

“Have I ever mentioned I love this dress.” He scans your figure and lets his hand slide down to your hips.

“Eddie. I’ve only worn this dress once before.” You giggle and he squeezes your hips.

“Yes. And I fell in love with it.” He hums and leans in to kiss you until your brother shouts.

“No!” Steve growls and Eddie glances over your shoulder to see you brother, hands on his hips, glaring at the two do you.

“Steve!” You shout turning around to look at him with wide eyes.

Eddie leans down into you and smiles against your ear. “Maybe we should get going. I want a kiss.” He whispers softly. You giggle and nod.

“You keep her safe Munson!” Steve shouts as Eddie helps you into the van and shuts the door.

“Don’t I always?” He smirks and hops in the van himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the two of you pull up to the Hideout Eddie immediately throws the car in park and grabs your hand.

“Finally.” He chuckles and tugs you closer across the center console. You giggle as he presses his lips to yours and smiles into the kiss.

When you pull apart Eddie hums and shakes his head slightly. He licks his lips and grins. “Ready?”

You nod despite the fact that you are so not ready. You look down at your pastel blue shimmering dress and for some reason regret it. This group of people really knew how to make you rethink everything at least ten times over.

Eddie rounds the van and helps you out. The two of you start to walk and you quickly grab onto the sleeve of his leather jacket for comfort. He chuckles and pulls you into his side. He looks down at you and smiles his stunningly sweet smile as always.

“Don’t be nervous.” He kisses your temple and leads the way in. God. That’s easier said than done when you looked like a pastry compared to him. “Oh there they are!” He shifts his arm from around you and quickly grabs your hand instead.

The bar is rather packed tonight considering the fact that it’s a Saturday. The busiest day for the hideout.

You bite you lip as Eddie leads you up to his friends. Gareth stands there with Jeff, both laughing. Jeff seemed to be the nicer of the two. The only one who seemed to like you last time. Dawn and Crystal both frown when they see you but quickly smile when their eyes fall on Eddie.

“Eddie is here!” Dawn smiles brightly. Gareth looks up and you can see him sigh. Jeff is the only one who smiles at you. He grins and gives you a smile wave to which you eagerly return.

Once in front of all of them you can’t help but slink into Eddie’s side. Gareth swigs his beer while rolling his eyes and Jeff quickly elbows him.

“Hey guys.” Eddie moves from you and you find yourself standing awkwardly hands at your side. Eddie hugs the girls and before fist bumping the guys. He moves to stand back at your side to which you welcome. You wraps his arm around your shoulder and you take this moment to hide from Dawns bright blue eyes.

“Cute dress.” She hums. Nodding to you slightly. Her comment makes Gareth chuckle and you can’t help but feel like you’re the butt of a joke here.

“Thanks.” You say softly.

“Gemma should be here soon.” Gareth grins widely at Eddie and wiggles his brows. You almost wonder if your missing something. Jeff rolls his eyes and looks at you with a sad smile.

“Cool.” Eddie hums.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear.” Crystal smirks looking over your shoulder. You and Eddie turn to look and your eyes nearly drop from your skull.

In front of you is a tall girl with a bright smile walking towards you guys. Her long black hair is straight and falls smoothly over her shoulders. Her top is a tight green tank top with rips all about and she’s wearing a tight little black leather skirt to go with. When you finally get to her shoes you see tall black strappy heels.

She looks like a model. A rockstar’s girlfriend.

When she finally reaches you she immediately holds out her arms and smiles.

“Hi Eds.” She hums and wraps her arms around him causing him to let you go and quickly wrap his around around her waist. They squeeze each other tightly and when she pulls back you don’t miss her glancing at his lips.

You feel like vomiting. You feel so small and insignificant around her. Not only was she tall and gorgeous, her and Eddie looked like the picture perfect metal couple.

Her eyes shift to you and she grins. “Cute dress.” She hums and extends her hand. “I’m Gemma. You must be?”

You freeze when her hand touches yours. She has the smoothest skin. “Y/n.” You squeak.

“Cute.” She hums again. She then passes you and begins to hug the others.

Soon enough all of you are standing in a circle chatting. Well they are all chatting. You are standing quietly beside Eddie gripping his jacket sleeve.

When Gemma laughs it’s angelic you think to yourself as you watch Eddie watch her.

“So Eds.” Gemma smirks at him. “How have you been. Babe.” She punctuates the last word and you quickly look away from the two of them. You glance around the bar behind you before looking back, eyes landing on Jeff who is watching you. You smile softly and he returns the favor before taking another swig of beer.

“I’ve been good. What about you?” He smiles at her and you feel your stomach turn. This was a bad idea. Your brother was right. You should’ve just stayed home and watched shitty romance movies with him. You would much rather wonder how Eddie was acting around his ex rather than see it in full swing.

“Lonely. I’ve missed seeing you…” her eyes flick to you and then back to Eddie. “All of you of course.”

“You should come around more often.” Gareth cuts in quickly.

“I think I might just.” Gemma hums. As she twirls her hair around her finger.

“We’d all love that!” Dawn grins brightly.

“Yea!” Crystal giggles and spits her drink.

“How about you Eds, babe.” Gemma smirks at him and her eyes narrow. She points at him with her long sharp nail. “Do you miss having me around.”

You can’t help but glance down at you nails. Short and honestly a bit dirty from gardening earlier. You garden when you have to much on your mind and honestly. You wish you were gardening now.

“Sure I do Gem.” Eddie’s voice is gentle and sweet with her. And you don’t miss the nickname. God you feel sickly and invisible.

“Y/n.” Jeff says softly to get your attention. You look at him, ripping your eyes away from Eddie and Gemma. As they stare at each other, standing directly across from one another.

“Hm?” Jeff, who stands across from you smiles as you hum in response.

“You okay? You look… pale.” Jeff’s words seem to catch Eddie’s attention as you looks down at you for the first time in a while.

“Baby? You okay?” He hums and places his hand on your cheek.

You nod. “I’m good. Just thirsty I think. I’ll go get myself a drink.”

“I’ll come with you.” He hums.

“Get me my usual won’t you Eds?” Gemma smiles at him, batting her eyes. You felt a bit angry at this but more than anything. You felt sick.

“Sure Gem.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Eddie wait at the bar for the drinks as you watch the hideout patrons busy dancing and laughing. From here you can’t see Eddie’s friends and honestly. It sends a wave of relief over you.

“Baby.” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your staring. You look up at him and he smiles at you. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“I don’t think your friends like me very much.” You force a small laugh but Eddie’s face shifts from smiley to serious.

“Sure they do. What’s not to like about you.” He grabs your face with both his hands and presses his lips firmly to yours. You melt into him a bit until he pulls back. “You just gotta jump in okay? Speak up and they’ll love you! Just like I do.” You raise your brow at this and he chuckles. “Okay maybe not just like I do.” He smirks as his hands slide down your body and quickly find your ass.

He pulls you into his body and hums to himself slightly before meeting your gaze with big brown eyes filled with lust. “If we were alone. I’d wreck you. In this pretty pastel dress.” He smirks causing you to blush deeply.

You shove your face into his chest and shake your head. “Eddie!” You giggle into him and he chuckles back.

“Gimme a kiss.” He says quickly. You pull back without hesitation and lean up onto your tiptoes. He squeezes your ass tightly as your lips meet and then pulls back. “I gotta use the bathroom. Will you take the drinks back to the group?”

“You…” you want to say… ‘you want me to take this back and hangout with your friends alone?!’ But instead you stop yourself and smile. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”

“Baby bat. Don’t be nervous. You’re too lovable for any of them to hate you.” He quickly kisses your cheek and heads off into the back of the bar.

You grab your water and chug it down before grabbing Eddie and Gemma’s beers which you don’t miss the fact that they are the same. You start to head back over and just as they come into view again a guy accidentally cuts you off. You don’t mind as you try to slip past him while he talks with a friends.

As you try to weave your way back to them you half when you hear Gareth’s voice. “I told you she was freaky.” He chuckles and you hear laughter from several others.

“What is she wearing by the way?” Gemma’s smooth voice breaks through the music.

“Oh! She always dresses like that!” Crystals voice this time.

“She looks like a wannabe Barbie.” Gemma laughs cause the others to join.

“Oh and she is always clinging to Eddie like a lost puppy. It’s annoying!” Gareth slurs his way through the sentence. Then you hear Jeff cut in.

“Hey. She’s just different from us.” He adds in and you feel a bit protected but it doesn’t stop the others.

“I can’t believe Eddie actually likes her. I mean she’s not exactly his type.” Gemma scoffs.

“Yea! When they first started dating I literally laughed in his face I couldn’t believe it. She’s like a child to be honest. Always dressed like a doll.” Gareth jabs. More laughter erupts. You feel the tears pricking your eyes.

“We’ll. It’s still early in the relationship. He has time to change his mind.” Crystal says.

“Yea. To make the right decision.” Dawn giggles.

“I just don’t see what he sees in her.” Gemma says harshly. “I mean. We were much more compatible than whatever the fuck she is. I mean. She’s literally a pint sized, pastel covered nightmare.”

“Well. Eddie was totally flirting with you tonight. I think the old spark was coming back to him.” Crystal giggles like a schoolyard girl.

“Yea. I noticed that. Honestly. Do you guys think if I gave him the option he’d actually choose her. I don’t think so.” Gemma says cockily.

“Honestly. That was my plan. Get you here to knock some sense back into Eddie. Cause there is no way I can handle being around her much longer.” Gareth groans.

“What? Why would you do that?” Jeff asks sharply.

“Because she’s annoying Jeff.”

“She never says anything to us. She’s nothing but nice. I don’t understand y’all. Plus Eddie seems to actually like her why would you wanna ruin that.”

“Oh please Jeff. He only likes her cause Gemma was out of the picture.” Crystal cuts in.

“Ya think? I honestly can’t with how sexy he looks tonight.” Gemma practically moans as she finishes her sentence.

“Bottom line is. Y/n is annoying. And she’s got to go.” Gareth hums casually.

Just then the guy and his friend decide to head to the bar and you are there staring at the group. You blink back your tears as their eyes land on you. Gareth shrinks back when he sees you. His eyes going wide. Jeff frown at you with sad eyes and Gemma and the girls all try to hide their giggles.

You quickly walk over to them and smile but you know it probably looks sad.

“Eddie is in the bathroom but wanted you to get you drink. So here ya go.” You smile at Gemma having to tilt your head up slightly.

Gemma takes the drink from your hand and smiles. “Thanks.” She immediately takes a swig. “You drink as well?” She questions.

You nod but shrug “Yeah but not tonight. This is Eddie’s.” You look down to the floor briefly.

“Mmm so he still gets my usual. How sweet.” Gemma hums. You look up and her eyes are still on you. Everyone’s eyes are on you. The only one who seems nervous that you heard though seems to be Gareth.

“Yeah sweet.” You force a smile. “Actually could you hold this for him. I’m gonna go make a call.” You hand her his drink and she grins like an animal.

“Sure.”

“Who are you calling?” Jeff asks quickly. His eyes scanning you with what seems like worry.

“My brother.” You frown and turn away.

“Awe cute.” Gemma giggles.

As you rush away back towards the bar and phone you hear Gemma laugh loudly. “You think she heard us?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Steve you were right.” You sob into the phone finally letting the tears streak down your cheeks.

“What happened?!” Steve says into the phone and you can heard him grabbing his car keys already. And you are beyond thankful.

“Please just come get me.”

“I’m coming. I’m coming. Stand out front. I’ll be there in five.”

The hideout was ten minutes away but you knew your brother would be here in five just like he said. You hang up the phone and sniffle before pushing your way to the front door.

As you step out into the cool night air and shivered a bit. You rub your hands up and down your arms praying Steve would get there quicker.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and you spin around. You half expect to be met with Eddie’s worried brown eyes but instead you are met with a random stranger.

“Whatcha doing out here s’all lone?” The man slurs.

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and step back.

“Waiting on my brother.” You say flatly.

“Why don’t you come back in and let me buy you a drink, pretty thing.” He reaches out for you again but stumble back once more.

“No thanks. Please. Just leave me alone.” You practically beg but it seems to only upset the man.

He grabs you by your shoulders and squeezes you.

“No need to be a bitch.” He spits and you turn your face away from him. “Just come inside with me. Or bet yet my car is over there.”

“No I don’t want to!” You feel you heart beat pick up and you try to yank free but only manage to get away enough for him to grab both of your wrists.

His grip is so tight you know they will be sore if not bruise by tomorrow. “Please let me go.” You practically cry out as he starts to tug you towards his car. You hear a car pull into the lot and you yank yourself back from the man against but he still doesn’t release your wrist.

“Let go of me!” You scream out and you hear a car door slam.

“HEY!” The sound of your brothers voice echoes across the parking lot. You hear gravel beneath his feet and just as he approaches you she the hideout doors open from behind the man and you see Eddie with all his friends behind him.

Eddie’s eyes widen and you can see him start to move into action but your brother beats him to it. Taking a baseball bat to the man’s back.

“Get the fuck away from her.” The man immediately lets you go and you practically fall back into Steve’s arms.

Steve squeezes you into his chest and points the bat at the man who is now sprawled out in the gravel lot.

“You ever touch my sister again and I’ll beat your face in.” Then Steve quickly points the bat at Eddie. “And where were you?! Fucker!” Steve let’s you go and moves towards Eddie whose eyes are fixated on you.

“Baby! Are you okay?” His voice is strained and his face looks as if he is in physical pain.

“She’s good! No thanks to you or your asshole friends. You stay the fuck away from her, Munson.” Steve walks closer to Eddie making him rip his eyes away from you and focus on him.

“Steve I-“

“You stay away from us. Don’t you ever even think-“

“Steve stop!” You shout as you stomp over to him. You rip the bat from his hand and swing it over your shoulder. “Let’s just go.”

“Y/n” Eddie’s voice pleads from behind you. You whip around to meet his eyes but you can help but notice all his friends staring at you too.

You turn back to your brother and shove the bat into his chest. “I just wanna go home.” You huff. Anger about the whole night begins to set in. Steve glares at Eddie and then looks to you.

“You said you would keep her safe.” Steve says simply. “I trusted you.” He huffs and grabs your arms gently and starts leading you to the car that is still on and sitting in the center of the lot.

“Y/n wait please!” You hear Eddie from behind you and it seems like he’s about to follow you until you hear Gemma’s voice.

“Just wait Eds. Let them go.”

And he does. He lets you go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were right about your wrists. They are bruised pretty bad as you slide your garden gloves on.

After you got home Steve demanded to know what happened. After your telling of the night Steve was a little less mad at Eddie and more mad at his friends but he still wouldn’t let go of the fact that he trusted Eddie to keep you safe and he failed.

In your eyes Eddie didn’t fail. You were the one who left. And without telling Eddie. Which Steve scolded you for. But he couldn’t really be mad when you started crying about how mean his friends were and how beautiful Gemma was.

You slide open the back door and begin to step out until you hear Steve walk into the room.

“How you feeling?” He asks.

You turn to face him and sigh. “I miss Eddie.” You admit. Maybe Gareth was right. Maybe you’re annoyingly clingy. Because all you wanted right now was to curl up in Eddie’s lap and stroke his hair. You missed him even though it’s only the next morning.

“Y/n. I’m sorry I snapped last night. I know he wasn’t really… the problem. But… if he shows up here I’m punching him in his nose.” Steve crosses his arms and you giggle. Your brother is protective but there is no way he’s going to punch your boyfriend.

If Eddie even still wants to be your boyfriend. After the scene you caused last night you’re sure his friends have talked him out of it. If anything you’re sure he’ll show up just to break up.

“Okay Steve. Whatever you say.”

“You going to the garden?” He asks softly and you simply nod. “Want some company?”

You shake your head and turn to head outside. “I just wanna be alone right now.”

~~~~~~~~~~

About an hour passes of you crying into the soil of your lilies. You can’t help but let the tears roll down your face. Replaying the night over and over again. Wondering if there was something you did to encourage them to talk that way about you. Maybe they were right. You were just a pastel nightmare. An annoying girlfriend. Why would Eddie chose you when someone like Gemma wants him?

You sigh as you weakly pull at a weed. And pull and pull and pull. So weakly it barely moves from the soil. You cry harder.

You look down at yourself. Jeans covered in dirt at the knees. Dirty old shirt hanging loosely around your frame. Your hair in a ponytail. You were a mess. Gemma probably never looked like such a mess. God. There is not a doubt in your mind that Eddie is going to end up choosing her but damn if it doesn’t break your heart.

You sniffle as you tug at the weed once more. Still no movement.

“You’re probably gonna have to pull harder than that, baby.” Eddie’s sweet voice makes you jump. You quickly wipe your puffy eyes with your sleeves and turn to face him. You stay huddled in the dirt on your knees as you look up at him. The sun beating down on his back.

He stands before you in jeans and a loose shirt and smiles down at you until his eyes settle on yours. He frowns deeply. “Baby. How much have you been crying?!” He drops to his knees in front of you and grabs your face causing you to shift and turn your whole body towards him. “Baby.” He coos as he runs his calloused thumbs over your puffy cheeks.

“Sorry.” You sniffle and pull your gloves off to wipe your eyes. As you do Eddie gently grabs your arms and pulls your hands down in front of him.

You watch as his teeth grit and jaw clench while he softly rubs the bruises on your wrists. “Do they hurt?” He says continuing to stare at them.

“No.” You rush to answer. He glances up to you and squints.

“My love.” He says lowly.

“A little.” You frown. And he sighs.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers his voice breaking as he does.

“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have left without telling you.”

“I should’ve been there.” He huffs as he rubs your wrist again and you see his knuckles all black and blue.

“Eddie what happened?!” You shift and it’s your turn to grab his hands. You frown and look up into his eyes. His brown eyes narrow and he grimaces. “Eddie.”

“Steve only got in one good hit. I did the rest of the work that’s all.” He says this so calmly you almost feel as if you shouldn’t be worried. But you are.

“What?! Why would you do that?!” You stare into his eyes and he chuckles.

“Baby bat. He can’t just do this to you and get away with it. I had to beat his teeth in.”

“Eddie!” You gasp and he smiles at you. “You didn’t hurt him too badly did you?” His grin grows when you say this.

“Only you would be worried about your attacker.” Eddie shakes his head causing his curls to fall around his shoulders.

“I’m not worried about him! I’m worried about you. You could’ve gotten hurt or ended up in jail!” You watch as his face falls and he blushes. “You ended up in jail?!” You groan and he chuckles.

“It was only overnight. Hopper let me go once I told him what happened.”

“Eddie.” You practically whine and before you can say anything Eddie leans in and kisses you softly. You lean into him until you hear him whine a bit. You pull back and stare at him. “You okay?”

“Uh yea… it’s just my nose. Your brother got in a good one.” Eddie’s sentence makes your jaw drop.

“He actually hit you?!” You grab his face and scan it intensely causing his cheeks to squish in a bit.

“Yesh.” He says. His lips puckered and squished. You let go of his face and pull back. “I deserved it. Plus it was only one punch. I don’t think he broke anything.” Eddie shrugs.

“Eds I’m so-“ you stop. Eds. It feels tainted now.

“Hey what just happened?” He grabs your hand and pulls it to his chest. “Where did you just go.”

You shake your head and shrug pulling your hand back. And suddenly you realize your hand is on his knee as well. You pull that back too. You are too clingy.

“Hey hey hey. What’s going on baby bat?” He searches your face as you try to avoid eye contact.

“Nothing. I just… it’s nothing.”

“Look at me.” He says gently. “Please.”

You look up and immediately are met with his gentle brown doe eyes.

“Jeff told me everything that happened. Said you probably heard most of it if not all of it.” Eddie frowns as he grabs you hand once more. He brings it to his lips and gently kisses your knuckles. “No matter what you heard. It’s not true.”

You shake your head a bit. “That’s the thing though. It is.” You go to drop you head but Eddie takes his other hand and grabs your chin.

“It’s not. You are far from a nightmare.” He grabs at your waist now with both hands and pulls you into his lap. He shifts so he is crisscrossed and you are straddling his hips. “You are not annoying. You are not any of the things those assholes said. Besides pint sized.” He jokes and you can’t help but smile.

His thumbs dip under your shirt and rub circles into your hips as he continues to talk.

“And most importantly. I do not want anyone besides you. All the scheming in the world would not make me want to leave you. Gemma is a ghost of the past. And now you can see why I left her there.” He stares into your eyes and continues to rub your skin.

“Oh yes. Her overwhelming beauty, style, and commonality with you. Yes. Makes sense.” You sigh and go to look away but Eddie captures your lips with his. He smiles when you start to kiss him back and then he quickly pulls back. Giving you one more peck before continuing.

“You are everything she is not. You are kind. Caring. Gentle. Beautiful. Loving. And most importantly you are nothing like me.” He grins and you shake your head a bit.

“I wanna be like you.” You frown. And all he can do is chuckle.

“My love, I wanna be like you.” His gentle smile is contagious and your lips tug up into a grin as well.

“She likes you.” You whisper.

“I love you.” He whispers back. Your eyes widen as you stare at him. Searching his face for a joke or hint of one. He stays serious which he doesn’t often do.

“You what?” You quickly place your hands on his shoulders as if to stabilize yourself.

“I love you. Only a few months in and I’m head over heels in love with you my baby bat. I don’t want anyone but you. I go to bed and think of you. I dream of you. Then I wake up and think of you again. My every moment is consumed by thoughts of you and your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your kindness, your everything. I don’t care what any of those fucks think of you or me or us. It’s our relationship. You’re my baby. No one needs to understand us but us. Sure. You’re bubbly and kind and covered in flowers and dirt most of the time while I’m sweaty and standoffish and covered in leather and metal but that’s us. And I love us. I love you. I’m so in love with you it hurts. It hurts to be away from you. It hurts to see you cry. It hurts to know I let you get hurt. I’m so stupidly and happily in love it drives me fucking wild. I just can’t get enough of you ever. I love when you cling to my jacket and hide in my side. I love when you whisper to me when you’re nervous. I love when you-“

You smash your lips into his causing him to lean back a bit. You wrap your hands up in his hair and tug gently as his hands travel up and down your back pulling you in as close as he can get you. You kiss him until you’re both out of breath and his eyes are blown out black circles. When you pull back you stare at him with flushed cheeks and smile.

“I’m in love with you too.” You smile as you nudge your nose against his forgetting momentarily about your brothers punch until Eddie hisses softly. You pull back and grab his face. “Oh! I’m sorry!” You cry out and he chuckles.

“Come back here.” He whines and pulls your face back to his. Foreheads touching and he closes his eyes.

As you sit here all your worries wash away. Eddie loves you. He’s in love with you. That’s all you want. That’s all you need.

Eddie’s hands gently run up and down your back and he hums softly.

“They said I dress like a doll.” You sigh. “Is that true?” You wonder. Not really offended anymore. Not now that you had Eddie wrapped around you. More just curious.

Eddie pulls back gently and scans you. “You aren’t dressed like a doll now.” He points out but you squint. You gasp and point at his face.

“You think I dress like I doll!”

“Not all the time!!” He whines and quickly covers your face in kisses. You giggle until he settle his head on your shoulder. Hiding his face away in your neck. His warm breath fanning your skin sending shivers down your spine.

Suddenly Eddie licks a strip up your neck till he reaches your ear. He nibbles at your ear and sighs softly and you tighten your hands in his hair.

“Besides. I like when you dress like a doll if it means you wear that sexy little dress of yours.” He practically moans in your ear and you can’t help but sigh into him. “In fact I love all your little dresses. Especially that little green number you got.” He gently kisses your neck before nipping at your skin. You let out a soft moan and he grins against your skin.

You both sit there for a moment as Eddie lays soft kisses along your neck.

“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll slip into that green dress.” You whisper shyly and Eddie snaps up. You giggle when he scans your face and smirks.

“Awe. You wanna put it on just for me to take it off again? Hmm.” He leans and pecks your lips softly. “Seems time consuming but I’ll be damned if I don’t wanna see you put it on.”

“Come on. You know your favorite part is taking them off. Im being generous.” You smirk.

“God I love you like this. Let’s go!”

Eddie helps you off his lap and jumps to his feet. He grabs your hand and the two of you stumble over each other to get inside. Wandering past Steve, giggling at each other and rushing up the stairs to your bedroom.

As Eddie basically slams the door shut you pick the green dress up off the floor and disappear into your closet. Quickly you change and when you come back out into the room Eddie is sitting on your bed with a soft smile on his face.

When he sees you his face falls and his eyes widen. "Damnit. Okay." He huffs mostly to himself as he sits up a bit straighter on your bed.

"What?" You giggle as you twirl around in front of him. You can barely finish the turn before Eddie grabs your hips and pulls you closer. Now you stand between his legs and he stares up at you with a shit eating grin plastered across his lips.

"You're too beautiful. I can't think." He groans and throws his head back causing you to laugh loudly.

"I was actually gonna wear this last night but got too nervous." You hum gently as your hands find his chest and gently run up and down his shirt.

He snaps his head up and gapes at you. "Are you kidding me?!" He shakes his head and leans into your stomach for a moment before pulling back to look into your eyes once more. "Actually it's probably good you didn't wear this cause... we would've both been in that bathroom."

His smirk provokes a giggle from you. he grabs your hips and squeezes them before planting a kiss on the side of your ribs.

"Wanna skip to your favorite part? Taking this thing off." You smirk causing his eyes to meet yours and he smirks.

"Fuck yes." He moans out as he quickly moves you both. He tosses you back onto your bed and you giggle up at him as he crawls over you. Running his hand up the side of your thigh. "On Second thought... let's keep it on." He smirks.

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

That's all folks. Let me know what you think about this! Hope you all enjoyed the angsty romance.

Peace and Love, Babes.

Taglist - @iwillbiteabitch @and-claudia @ruinedbythehobbit @luvmybbies @wannabeyousobad @llodinsonlll @tlclick73 @i-love-ptv-vic @mischiefmanagers @tvserie-s-world @magnificantmermaid @brieho3 @saramelaniemoon @sidthedollface2 @saayanaaa @mylovelycrazyworld

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie my beloved #stranger things #peaceteaaposts #fictional crushes #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie x fem!reader

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seasonsbloom · 1 year

Text

baby, let's play house. rooster (part 2)

part 1

pairing ; bradley bradshaw x female!reader

synopsis ; marriage of convenience. you got yourself in trouble. bradley has a bit of a savior complex. together, you come up with what could potentially be the worst idea in the longstanding and illustrious history of bad ideas.

wc ; 6k

warnings ; angst; explicit language; explicit sexual content in later parts; pregnancy; mentions of Tom Cruise; unhealthy family dynamics

note: jesus this is so late... and it's so short.... I'm so sorry y'all???

Two weeks later, you marry Bradley Bradshaw.

The Miramar City Hall is a horrible building, all the worst aspects of suburban SoCal architecture wrapped into one. It looks like Disneyland trying to do stately, with the walls painted an indefinable color somewhere between salmon and eggshell. Massive white pillars protrude from the facade, and through the square windows, you can see rows of underpaid clerks poring over documents, computer screens, or jelly donuts. A long fountain stretches in front of the stairs, water bubbling forth in steady streams.

You stand under the sloping canopy of the front entrance, feet aching in the heels you dug out of the depths of your closet, seven out of ten nails bitten down to the beds, heart fluttering in your throat as the panic swallows you whole, and wait.

Bradley offered to pick you up, but you declined politely but firmly, insisting instead on driving yourself. Some weird, last stand for your independence, maybe. Or you had just needed the fifteen-minute drive to calm down, to let the wind whistling in through the rolled-down windows whip some sense back into you, to listen to the same song on loop until the routine of the rhythm, the repetition of the notes, lulled you into a false sense of security—either which.

All that forced calm is gone the minute Bradley climbs the last step and smiles at you. Behind that smile, though, barely concealed by a thin veneer of cheer, in his eyes, you can see his tension clear as day.

He’s in his dress whites, cap and all, and for some reason, that makes you want to cry. With the added breadth of the shoulder boards, he looks even broader than usual. You can’t stop staring at the ribbons pinned to his chest.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “You look beautiful.”

It dumbfounds you. You glance down at the dress you panic-bought using your nest egg last week, at the open-toed sandals you got on sale for your senior prom. It’s hardly Vera Wang, hardly what you imagined for yourself.

Part of you feels sad for having missed out on the Say Yes to The Dress moment, on the champagne and the entourage and the lace and veil. Part of you wonders why you even care when there are so many more important things going on.

“Thanks,” you mumble, even though you’re pretty confident he’s lying. “You look handsome.”

Bradley acknowledges that with a twitch of his mustache. Then he turns and points at the man behind him.

“This is Mav. I don’t know if you guys have met….”

Mav is just as dressed up for the occasion as Bradley is, and you almost feel bad. With how focused you were on Bradley and the dread of the impending nuptials, you didn’t even notice him.

“Yeah, we’ve met,” Mav says, a wistful smile on his face as he leans forward to offer you his hand. You’ve seen Pete Mitchell around the Hard Deck pretty frequently since Penny and he started dating, have poured him the occasional drink. You get the feeling he used to be the kind of handsome hotshot aviator Hangman fancies himself to be these days, but to you, he’s always looked a little too much like Tom Cruise for comfort. “I’ll be your witness today.”

“Oh.” You shake his hand in a daze. Somehow, you’d expected Bradley to bring someone else. Anybody else. You didn’t even know these two had any ties except for their military ones, but now you can see the tether of familiarity between them. It’s glaringly obvious, and it makes you uncomfortable for reasons you can’t explain. “Thanks for that. It’s very nice of you.”

Pete chuckles. “No worries at all. Happy to be here. It’s not every day you get to watch a boy you’ve known since he was born getting married, can you?”

It’s light-hearted, affectionate, but it hits you like a fist to the stomach. You can barely breathe.

Oh God, you think. Oh God, what am I doing?

Suddenly, you feel so alone it builds like a lump in your throat.

“You ready to go?” Bradley asks, and you wonder if he can sense your profound discomfort or if he’s just eager to get this over with and continue with the rest of his day.

“Sure,” you say, fingers tangling in the straps of your purse. “Yeah.”

The city hall is cooled down to arctic temperatures. Outside the office, waiting your turn, you clench your jaw to the point of pain to keep your teeth from chattering. Covertly, you try scooting closer toward Bradley on the rickety chairs. The man radiates heat like a furnace.

Pete excuses himself to find some water after a while, but you suspect he might just be trying to give you and Bradley some space.

“You okay?” Bradley asks the moment you’re alone, twisting sideways in his chair to get a better look at you.

You don’t want to lie to him, but you also don’t want to tell him the truth: That you’re miserable. That nausea kept you up all night, ripped you out of bed at three am every day the past week. That you can’t sleep anymore. That your legs ache and cramp. That the guilt and the worrying are making you dizzy. That you’re fraying at the seams, unspooling, coming apart like an old sweater.

So you just shrug without looking at him, which isn’t an answer at all, and say, “And you?”

“I’m fine.” Bradley is quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Do you still want to do this?”

His voice is neutral, a blank slate, but you know what he means without saying it. If you want to call this off, I won’t be mad.

Maybe he’d be relieved, actually, some masochistic part of you thinks. Relieved to get away from you and all your chaos.

At least he should be if he is even half as smart as you suspect.

It makes you wonder how he would react if you actually were to leave him at the metaphorical altar. If you were to release your inner Julia Roberts right now and book it out of here runaway bride style.

Not that you could. These shoes definitely weren’t made for running.

Part of you wants to, though - just get the hell out of here. Leave this whole thing behind and never think of it again. Maybe it would be doing you both a favor.

But then you think of the baby. You think of free healthcare, of a house with a separate nursery, of the trust fund. You think of waking up in the mornings and not being alone.

Voice halting, words slow, you say, “Yeah. Do you?”

Bradley doesn’t hesitate. “I do,” he says, and then he’s reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. “Hey, I got something for you.”

It’s a ring. A simple silver band with a little diamond, nothing flashy, nothing big. Classic. Reliable. So Bradley Bradshaw it would make you laugh if this whole thing weren’t so goddamn sad.

Stunned, you stare at it for a moment, and then you say, “You… you bought a real one?”

Figuring that he might actually end up needing them, you’d given Bradley back his dog tags the night he proposed, and you hadn’t even considered the issue of a ring again. It was such a stupidly trivial thing in the face of everything else that’s been going on, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind.

Now, looking at it, it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s a beautiful ring, inconspicuous but lovely. Exactly the kind of thing you would have picked out for yourself if the situation had been different. If everything had been different.

“No, I… I had this at home.”

Confusion sets in. “What, you just have wedding rings lying around your place? Do you propose to girls a lot? Are you like… a habitual proposer?”

Bradley laughs and shakes his head. “Nah, I…” Then he’s clearing his throat, and he’s shifting in his seat, and your heart is racing. “It was my Mom’s.”

The panic ignites like a forest fire. You feel it everywhere, tingling in your fingers, snapping in your bones.

“No,” you say immediately, trying to push it back into his hands as you shake your head. “You can’t give this to me, Bradley, no, I.….”

“It’s fine,” he interrupts you. He’s smiling. “You can just give it back to me… after.”

After the divorce, your brain supplies helpfully, filling in the blanks he left in that sentence.

It feels like you can’t breathe. Your hands and feet are numb. The telltale burn of tears sears behind your eyes.

“Bradley,” you whisper, “this was your Mom’s.”

And it sounds like a plea. Like you’re begging. Like you’re saying, Please, don’t make me do this. Please don’t make me even worse of a person than I already am.

But Bradley’s still smiling. A soft, genuine smile as he closes your fingers around the ring. You feel the cold, circular shape of it against your palm.

“It’s fine,” he repeats, and he’s so calm about it all. How can he be so goddamn calm? “We want it to look real, right? No way I wouldn’t give this to my wife.”

And then you don’t know what else to say. Don’t know how to argue with him. Not when he’s the one pushing the whole thing.

So you give in. Nod. Hope that maybe, in some strange way, this will make him feel better. Even if it settles like a stone in your stomach, stacking on top of all the others.

You offer it to him on your open palm. “Maybe you should give it to me inside there, then.”

Bradley laughs, the sound a little sheepish, and accepts the ring back. “Right,” he says, “good thinking.”

Bradley is too nice for his own good, that’s what you’ve determined so far. Even if this might be a mutually beneficial agreement, you know he’s getting the short end of the stick. After all, you’re the one bringing all the baggage here.

A thought crosses your mind belatedly. “Does your Mom… not need it anymore?”

Almost imperceptibly, Bradley stiffens next to you, and you know right away that you’ve made some mistake, some miscalculation, even if you can’t tell exactly what it is.

Without looking at you, he says, “No. She’s dead.”

You open your mouth to say something, to apologize, to quell that horrible, sinking feeling in your stomach, but you’ve barely made it past a choked Bradley when Pete comes back, handing you a small paper cup.

“Here,” he says, “you should have some water. You look like you’re about to throw up.”

The smile he gives you is so warm it makes you want to scream. Can’t you see? you want to ask. Can’t you see I don’t deserve your kindness? Can’t you see I’m ruining Bradley’s life?

Instead, you accept the cup, nod, force an answering smile, and say, “Thank you.”

“Wedding jitters?” Pete asks as he sits down next to Bradley again, elbows braced on his knees to look at you. “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

“No…” you begin to protest, but Pete is already pushing on.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he jokes, grinning at Bradley. The kind of mischief on his face could put the fear of god in women stronger than you. “This one is a handful. You know, when he was twelve, he….”

“Mav,” Bradley interrupts, tone somewhere between long-suffering, warning, and affectionate.

You never do get to hear the story because the door opens and your names are called.

Everything happens very fast after that. Your officiant is a bored-looking woman in her forties who manages a well-practiced but pleasant smile throughout the vows. You stand facing each other in a lackluster room with a painting of palm trees on one wall, with no one in the rows of wooden chairs but Pete Mitchell, a man you barely even know. Bradley won’t take his eyes off you, and you can’t look at him without feeling the guilt overwhelm you.

It should be a happy day, but it reads an awful lot like a tragedy.

You both say I do, Bradley slips the ring on your finger, and then the officiant is saying, “Congratulations. You may now kiss the bride.”

It’s lightning fast. Bradley leans over, leans into your space, leans so close you can see the streaks of gold in his facial hair, can see the apology flickering in his eyes, and then his lips meet yours. It’s the softest pressure, like the brush of a butterfly’s wings. It’s the coarse hairs of his mustache tickling your skin, the warmth of his mouth against your own. It’s the fluttering of your heart, your hands clenching into fists, your stomach swooping.

For a moment, time is frozen, suspended, moot.

Then Bradley’s pulling away, a shy smile crossing his face, and you’re dizzy, you’re spinning, you’re falling. You want to cry.

And that’s how you marry Bradley Bradshaw: In a city hall on a Tuesday morning, with something in your chest that feels suspiciously like foreboding.

“I promise I didn’t know about this,” Bradley whispers into your ear half an hour later. One of his hands hovers above the small of your back, and though he doesn’t touch you, the phantom pressure of it sends shivers down your spine. His breath traces over your exposed shoulders.

You let your eyes wander over the Hard Deck, only half full and populated with people from Bradley’s life: His old squadron, friends from the Naval Academy, a few from back when he apparently attended UVA. (You still don’t understand his CV one bit and decide to ask him about it later. These are the things you should probably know about your husband. These are the things you would know about your husband if any of this were real.) Everybody’s smiling and congratulating you, and a banner strung from the ceiling, dangling between the models of airplanes, between the beer jugs, spells out CONGRATULATIONS! in big, colorful letters.

It’s obvious, it’s glaring, it’s so visible it blooms a shame somewhere in your belly - that they’re all here for Bradley. Your parents didn’t make it to California on such short notice, and there hadn’t been anybody else to invite. The only people one could count as your side if they were being especially generous would be your co-workers from the Hard Deck, standing behind the bar and looking out of place.

The whole day is a stark reminder of it all. Of your loneliness, of your solitude. Lonely enough that you had no one to invite to that ceremony at the city hall. Lonely enough you agreed to marry a stranger.

“That’s okay,” you tell Bradley, and it’s only a little lie. “It’ll be fine.”

You don’t know what you expected to happen after the wedding. Maybe to get fast food from whatever drive-through you passed first and then spend the rest of the night curled up in your bed, trying to forget what you just forced Bradley to do. Maybe just to get out of these heels. Certainly not for Penny to discover her inner event planner and throw you a surprise party.

But there was something on Penny’s face as she went to embrace you, something about the way she looked when you told her you were getting married to Bradley. An expression she was trying to hide. A flash of hurt, maybe, or a trickle of frustration. You chalked it up to her being upset that a guy she’s known since his teens didn’t tell her about his relationship with her employee, but that reasoning seems threadbare now.

Phoenix wears a broad smile, warm, her hair for once out of the army-commissioned coil and spilling dark and glossy over her shoulders. She’s out of the usual uniform and slipped into a blouse and pants for the occasion. The whole picture of her as anything other than the put-together pilot you see usually unsettles you a little.

“Congratulations,” she says, moving to give you a hug. Then she leans back to look at you. “Or should I say condolences? I can’t believe you married Rooster. Poor girl.”

You force a laugh, but you wish she’d step away a little. Up this close, she might be able to see the shame. It must be written all over your face.

Penny starts handing out shots. The tequila rushes from the bottle into the glasses in a stream of clear liquid, splashes of it landing on the bartop. You stare at the lime wedges, the salt shaker, stare at everybody lining up shoulder to shoulder, and the panic flares in your chest.

“I have to pee,” you announce to no one in particular, and then you’re slipping toward the bathroom, pretending you don’t feel Bradley’s eyes on you.

When the door falls shut behind you, you turn the key in the lock and lean your forehead against the wood. The material is cold against your skin, and you blink at the patterns, at the stains running through the dark oak like veins. Press your finger to one, and your eyes closed.

With your heart racing, your hands shaking, you stand like that for a moment, bracing yourself. You hadn’t expected all the attention, all the pretending, and you feel drained before any of it has even begun. You’re not sure if you can really pull this off. Maybe you’ll just crumble under the weight.

What a mess, you think to yourself, rubbing the heels of your hands over your eyes, then panic when you remember the mascara you painted on earlier. You check yourself over in the mirror, reapply your lip gloss and smooth down some flyaways.

You remember staring at yourself in this very same mirror two weeks ago, the day you did the test. You remember thinking how strange it was that you still looked the same even after your entire world had changed. How the outside did not reflect the inside at all.

You still don’t look any different. But it seems to you you’ve gone from nothing to something by virtue of association - now you’re someone’s mother, someone’s wife.

Then why am I still here, in this bathroom, alone? The thought comes with a bitter taste spreading on your tongue, like blackcurrants bursting in your mouth.

Bradshaw, you think, and then you say it out loud, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw’s wife.”

You feel the shape of the words, feel as your tongue forms them, bounces them off the roof of your mouth, and then past your lips. Hear them echoing off the walls. Watch yourself in the mirror, the muscles of your face flexing and relaxing, your lips meeting to dispatch the bs.

And still. None of it feels real.

The room smells freshly cleaned, astringent in its intensity. Your nose tingles like you’re going to sneeze. Carefully, you slide the wedding ring off, put it on the side of the sink, place it with the quiet plink of silver meeting porcelain, and then you wash your hands three times. Just last month, you went to Costco with Penny and picked up a 20-pack of orange blossom-scented soap, and now you watch it lather to a foam, the water so hot steam rises off it, and your fingers burn. Watch as it spirals down into the drain, bubbles popping.

It shifts reality back into focus. You turn off the faucet, use a few paper towels to dry your hands, put the ring back on, and then you step back into the din of the crowd, where even friends suddenly look like strangers, and you don’t look into the mirror again.

Bradley is waiting in front of the bathroom, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his head turned toward the ground. When you open the door, he snaps up immediately, unfolding himself from where he was leaning against the wall. His hands dangle uselessly by his hips.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you echo. You don’t meet his eyes.

“I was wondering….” He trails off. You focus on his shoes - they’re shiny, shiny enough the light bounces off them, and you wonder distantly if he cleaned them for the occasion. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you say and try to smile, but with your face still turned down, the effect is lost. Might be for the better, too - you have no idea what you look like. Your face is numb.

“I…” You glance at Bradley, at his furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw. For a moment, it looks like he wants to say something stern, something probing, but then he changes course at the last moment. “Should I carry your bag?”

Instinctively, your fingers go to the strap of your crossbody bag. You rush, “No, that’s fine. It’s not heavy. I can…”

“Please,” Bradley says, reaching for the bag but not touching you. Leaving his hands hovering in the open air. “Let me do this for you.”

You want to tell him he’s done enough for you. You want to tell him he’s the only person, in a very, very long time, who’s done anything for you. You want to tell him that you’re sorry, that you’ll never forgive yourself, that maybe this was a mistake, maybe…

Some guy you don’t know squeezes past you and into the bathroom, winking at you and slapping Bradley’s shoulder as he passes, hooting something about wedding nights. Beer sloshes over the rim of his bottle and splashes to the floor.

When he’s gone, the moment has passed, and the need to tell him anything has been snuffed out by your own embarrassment. You slip off the bag and hand it over, watch as Bradley slides it over his shoulder. It’s a ridiculous sight: The dainty thing juxtaposed to his uniform.

It makes you smile.

“Thanks,” you say and mean it.

Bradley shrugs, but you catch sight of his expression before he turns toward the bar room again, and you think he looks pleased.

A few of his friends whisk him away as soon as you step back into the party. Somebody has turned on the overhead fans, and stale air circulates into a cool breeze. There’s a speaker system set up on the bar for once, playing more modern music than what the Jukebox has to offer, and out of the fog of your memory, of the whirlwind, haphazard thicket of the past few weeks, rises a single moment. Penny leaning across the bar, hand outstretched, saying, Let me have a look at your Spotify. I’m getting some inspiration for a musical update.

Suddenly, you feel warm all over.

Hangman finds you by the bar, grinning ear to ear. There’s always been something wolfish to his grin, but you don’t fall for it. As much as Hangman likes to pretend the opposite, play up his flirting and his taunting and his casual cruelty, when it comes down to it, he’s harmless. A sheep in wolf’s clothing through and through.

“Honestly,” he says in lieu of a greeting or even congratulations. “You could’ve told me about this. Would have spared me a lot of trouble.”

“Hello to you, too, Jake.”

He dismisses that with a wave of his hand and places his glass on the bar top. Condensation drips off the sides, pools in a puddle on the wood as the ice melts, and the lime goes sliding away from the center. “You gotta admit it wasn’t entirely fair.”

You sigh and decide to indulge him and his games. “What wasn’t?”

Jake points a finger between you and him. “This. You’re breaking my heart, sugar.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, frowning.

“I’ve been flirting with you every time I came down to Fightertown,” Jake says. “A whole year, sugar! You could have told me that all this time you were dating goddamn Rooster of all people.”

“Flirting,” you repeat, dumbfounded, at the same time as another voice says, “Don’t start harassing my wife, Seresin.”

Hearing it out loud pulls the rug right from under you. Bradley’s hand lands on your elbow - neutral territory, you think, inoffensive, harmless - and his mouth is twisted into a jovial smile, even as his gaze flickers over you like he’s looking for something. You blink down at your shoes.

“I’m not harassing her, Bradshaw. I’m flirting with her, not that you’ve ever heard of that.”

Bradley shrugs. “Aren’t they the same thing with you?”

Between their banter, you feel decidedly out of place. Just another reminder that you don’t belong into Bradley’s world.

“Anyway.” Hangman sighs, leans back against the bar and crosses his arms over his chest. For a moment, he glances between you and Bradley, prompting you to shift your weight, to step a little closer into the open fan of your newly-anointed husband’s arm. If you want to tell this story, you’re going to have to start selling it. Hangman’s mouth curls into a grin. “Jesus,” he says finally, “I can’t believe you knocked a girl up before I did, Rooster.”

The words run through you like lightning. If you had any liquid in your mouth, you’d spit it out right now. To your right, Bradley stiffens, his hand tightening around your elbow, then loosening again.

“What?” he asks, and his voice sounds like something got stuck in his throat. You can’t look at him.

Hangman’s grin remains firmly in place. “That’s why you guys did it, right?” Then he mimics somebody loading a shotgun, complete with sound effects. “Her dad’s got tone on you?”

“I…” Bradley’s sentence trails off like he ran out of steam. Whitney Houston bellows about wanting to dance with somebody from the speakers. Glasses clink, people laugh, cues hit eight balls. The sound of your own heartbeat in your ears is deafening.

Hangman laughs. “I’m messing with ya,” he says, clapping Bradley on the shoulder and giving you a smile that seems uncharacteristically soft. “You guys have been disgustingly in love with each other since you met. The baby on board is just the cherry on top of the perfect peanut butter chocolate sundae, right?”

“That’s not true!” you protest, and then promptly want to slap yourself. Somebody says you’ve been in love with the guy you just fake married and that’s the part you want to deny?

Laughing, Hangman shrugs and downs a tequila shot. “Keep telling yourself that, sugar,” he says, bending down to press a quick, sloppy kiss to your cheek. “Whatever. Congratulations to you two.”

He disappears into the mess of the night, whistling a tune, beelining toward a pretty, single girl at the back of the room. Bradley, stoic and silent and unmoving at your side, says nothing.

You watch the people, their easy joy, their thoughtless happiness. The way they smile without caveat, enjoy themselves without footnotes or guilt.

“Well…” Bradley clears his throat, but you don’t care to look at him. “I never would have predicted Hangman would be the first one to figure it out, right?”

“I guess so,” you agree, even though you think he’s wrong. Hangman is as perceptive as any Navy pilot has to be, quick on his feet and good at reading situations, people, lies. Even if you were never particularly close with him, you can tell this much.

“Is… are you okay?”

You shrug, shake your head before you can think better of it, then nod out of instinct. “Sure,” you whisper. In the breeze of an air vent, you shiver, moving to rub one hand up your bare arm.

Bradley springs into action immediately, moving your purse to one arm, unbuttoning his jacket and slipping out of it. “You’re cold,” he’s saying, obviously relieved to have found something to do, “here, take my jacket…”

“Stop!” Your voice is much too loud. Several heads turn in your direction and you duck your head, feeling the blood rushing into your cheeks, the wetness into your eyes, the blood in your ears. Everything feels shaky, like you’re on deck in a rough sea. Your hands twist into the fabric of your dress and you watch as you crumple it between your fingers. “Just… stop being so nice to me, Bradley. Just stop it. Please.”

From the corner of your eye, you watch as Bradley’s arm drops uselessly to his side, the jacket dangling from between his fingers. His feet shuffle along the hardwood floors. “Oh,” he says, the word soft and airy and so full of something like hurt that you bite the inside of your cheek bloody. “Well. I’m sorry.”

Another beat passes. You should say something, you think. Apologize or thank him or tell him that you’re stupid and mean and ungrateful and you don’t deserve someone as nice as him. But no words come. You’re completely empty, drained. You’re so tired and so confused and you don’t get it. You don’t get what’s happening here and what Bradley is getting out of it and how you even ended up here in the first place.

Tomorrow, Bradley is going to drive a U-Haul truck to your shitty apartment where your life has been shoved into boxes. You’re going to move out of your own space and into a house with a man you don’t know and you don’t love but whose ring you wear. You’re going to wait for a baby you never wanted, and you’re going to watch as your dreams and your plans wash away like water down a drain. You’re going to give up the person you used to be, shove her into the very back of your sock drawer, something to be marveled at only in private, only on rainy Sunday mornings, only when nobody else is looking. Tomorrow, you think, in a way, your life will stop being your own and start being somebody else’s.

So what you want right now then, more than anything, is to be alone.

Bradley says nothing else. You hear as he leaves, as he follows after Hangman, moving away from you, but you don’t turn to look. You stay staring into nothing, your heart in your mouth, a ring on your finger, a baby in your belly, and your life in shards on the floor.

Careful where you tread, you think, dumbly, you might be treading on my soul.

The first thing Bradley Bradshaw - your husband, you have to remind yourself, your actual, real-life husband - says to you in your new house is this: “I’m sorry about last night.”

He’s sitting cross-legged on the carpet in the living room, clutching a bottle of beer like a lifeline. The television is on to provide background noise, some talk show you’ve never seen before where twins separated at birth are currently being reunited. You sit curled-up in an armchair Bradley brought, knees up at your chin, hands on your ankles. A pizza box is unfolded on the coffee table, steam still rising off the sizzling cheese. Your mouth waters at the scent, but you’re strangely shy about taking a slice. Like tearing into this pizza is going to be the straw that finally breaks the camel’s back on this strained truce Bradley and you seem to have entered into.

“No,” you say, fingers tightening around your ankles. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Bradley looks relaxed from his position, his back leaning against the couch. At home, here in this house for which he provided 90 percent of the furniture, 100 of the artwork. Mostly weird watercolor landscapes and one or two Hitchcock film posters you’d rather not ask him about. “I was being… overbearing.”

The thing is this: Bradley did help move your stuff into this new house. He loaded the U-haul and he lugged your meager belongings up to your room. He didn’t say anything about the water-stained mattress or the lack of a bedframe, about the peeling paint on your desk, the squeaking office chair. He hung the curtains you wanted and gave you a string of fairy lights to climb up one wall. This is your home now, you’d told yourself up in that room, staring at the powder blue walls, the floral bed sheets, the potted plant. This is it.

And still. It feels like you’re sitting in a stranger’s house, visiting from out of town.

“You weren’t,” you tell him, and you mean the words. “You… you’ve done so much for me, Bradley, and I…”

“It was nothing,” Bradley cuts you off. “None of… it’s fine. I’m not… I wanted to help, okay? So stop… stop thanking me or feeling indebted to me or like… I don’t know. Have a slice of pizza, okay?”

He hands you one before you can say anything, and you hold the scalding dough in your hand, watch as he bites into his own slice. A bit of cheese gets caught in his mustache. His throat moves as he swallows.

Out of nowhere, suddenly, without warning, you ask, “If I followed you on Instagram… would you follow me back?”

It’s juvenile. It’s stupid, it’s so dumb, and you have no idea where it even comes from, but you have to ask, feel it like a need that burns through you. You just want to know.

If Bradley is confused by the sudden change of topic, he doesn’t let it on. Instead, gaze still on his pizza, he says, “I already follow you.”

“You… you do?”

He shrugs. “You probably didn’t recognize me. I don’t think I’ve ever posted on there.”

“What, you don’t have a profile pic?”

Now he has the audacity to blush and you hate the way it makes you feel, hate that something in you twists at the sight. “No, I do, just… I’m not in it.”

“Who is, then?”

He opens his mouth, closes it again, and turns half away from you, like he’s trying to hide his face. You frown.

“Bradley?”

“It’s…” He sighs, curses, licks the cheese off his mustache and runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck it,” he mumbles. “It’s my Bronco. I have a picture of my car as my profile pic.”

A beat passes, and then, miraculously, you’re laughing. Actual, real laughter that bursts from you like water from a pipe. “Oh,” you choke out. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Bradley grumbles, but you see the tentative smile stretching his face, the probing, searching look thrown your way. “I’m a grandpa. At least I know what Instagram is.”

“Do you use the premade insta filters?” He doesn’t answer. “Oh my god, you do!”

Bradley rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” Then he leans forward and deposits another slice of pizza on the one you haven’t even eaten. Grease stains your fingers. “Here. You’re eating for two.”

He turns to stare at the TV, a furrow of concentration carved between his eyebrows, and in this living room, in this house, with him on the floor and you in the armchair, with pizza steaming between you and your things upstairs and his things everywhere, for a moment, just a moment, you think that maybe, after all, things might turn out okay.

#rooster #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #mine #f:blph

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evan4ever · 1 year

Note

Hii, could i request a evan peters x fem reader story, where you are wearing some revealing clothes and try to show your best parts to him all over the day. He gets really horny because of that and you find him in the bedroom minding his business. 💀 Maybe he would tell you how pretty you are all over the time

Tease

Evan Peters

Warnings: masturbation, hand job, male orgasm?

—

It had been a few days since you dressed nice. Evan had a nice break from any movies and your job had given you the week off, so you and Evan spent the majority of your time together dressed down and watching movies and pigging out. You loved it, honestly, but today you just felt like dressing up. Maybe you’d try to convince Evan to go out, grab a coffee, anything really.

So instead of grabbing the large T-shirt of Evans that you’ve had on the last 4 days, you grabbed your white cold shoulder body suit and paired it with a brown pencil skirt with some black see through tights, considering the skirt was pretty short. You did some light makeup and put your hair up in a curled high pony. Giving yourself one last glance in the mirror you smiled at how cute you thought you looked. But walking out to the living room where Evan was sat on your couch watching some action movie, when he looked up and his eyes landed on your outfit, he didn’t think you looked cute — he thought you looked fuckin hot.

“Baaaabe” he groaned from the couch, his eyes never leaving your ass that was just barely covered. You looked back confused at first, but taking in his body language and the VERY obvious bulge through his sweatpants, you smiled innocently. Though it wasn’t in your head that you were gonna dress up to tease him, you couldn’t help but do it now seeing how flustered your outfit made him.

“Yeeees?” You tilted your head a bit as you approached him, letting your hands rest in either side oh his head and looking down at him while he watched you. Leaning over him gave him a perfect view of the curves of your breast from your cleavage and he definitely noticed it, groaning again. You giggled, leaning down more and giving him a peck on his lips then another on his cheek before standing up and returning to the kitchen to grab your protein drink that was nowhere to be found. You hugged and turned to face him again, his eyes still wandering your body with a pleased smile.

“Did you drink my protein shake?” You groaned when he nodded apologetically, but an idea filled your head soon after. “Well, I need one. So let’s go downstairs to the coffee shop quick.” You grabbed your purse and slipped some sandals on, turning to look at him but he stared at you like you were crazy. “What?”

“So other people can have the chance to see what I can see???? No.” You raised your eyebrows at his words but couldn’t help feeling like the hottest thing in the world right now. He always made you feel like the most beautiful, but you really enjoyed the thought of him drooling over you.

“Come on. It’s right downstairs. I need my protein shake,” you groaned, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, his hands immediately grabbing your waist giving them a squeeze as he looked down at you now. He looked as if he was contemplating his entire life right now, unsure if he wanted to attempt to fuck you right then and there or wait.

“Fine. Everyone else can keep their eyes off of you though.” His hands slipped behind you and gave your ass a quick squeeze which earned him a light squeal from you. You glared at him as you both left your apartment, then smiled when he grabbed your hand and the two of you walked down to the coffee shop together.

—

“He was totally looking at your ass.” Evan dramatically rolled his eyes as you reentered you place, you giggling as you placed your key on the TV stand after closing the door.

“No he wasn’t. Maybe he was admiring-“

“Your ass? Yep.” He nodded cutting you off.

“Oh my godddd.” You groaned out, grabbing his wrist to turn him around, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. He huffed and looked down at your smiling face as if he was actually upset. You knew he wasn’t. Standing on your tip toes, you leaned in and gave him a soft kiss which he returned happily, his hands finally finding your waist again.

“Why are you so jealous when you’re the one who’ll be taking these off of me tonight?” You asked lowly, your head tilted as you looked at him innocently once again. He groaned and pulled you closer into him, kissing you again this time more passionately. You allowed it to intensify, then pulled back abruptly and walked around him leaving him staring at you with frustration. He knew you weren’t going to give in that easy, you loved teasing him but he loved watching you.

And do you want on about your day, allowing Even to look but not touch. The boy would probably explode the second you touched him. You honestly hadn’t teased him like this before, making sure your skirt was hiked up and bending over as often as you could. Letting your cleavage show more than usual. You got hands with him when you could, allowing him your touch but not letting him touch you. He couldn’t take it anymore and excused himself to the bathroom in your room.

You didn’t think much of it, until you realized how long he’d been in there and that your bedroom door had been shut even though there’s a bathroom door he could close. You got up from your place on the couch and approached the closed door, quietly turning it and opening it. There you saw him, laying in your shared bed, pants at his knees and his hand working on his dick. He hasn’t heard you come in and his eyes were closed as he imagined your perfect body to get himself off too. You wasted no time in going to him, his eyes shooting open at the feeling of your hand taking over for his. He was instantly embarrassed at being caught by you, but you paid no attention to that and only to his pleasure and he quickly forgot all about the embarrassment, his head falling back at your hand movements on him.

“Fuck… I couldn’t take it anymore,” he groaned out in breaths. You just smiled and continued your work, eager to make him cum. “You’re so fucking pretty.” He breathed out again, your head turning so you could look at him. He opened his eyes again to look back at you and you took your opportunity to lean up and let your lips meet his, kissing him while you gave him a handjob. You felt him start bucking up into your hand indicating he was close, you allowed your hand to quicken its pace and you deepened the kiss. It was your favorite thing to make him come undone while your mouth was on his, being able to take in the moan that would escape into your mouth and the shaking of his body under you.

“Fuck babe, I’m gonna cum” you nodded and that was all the allowance he needed as he came all over your hand and his stomach. You kept hand fucking him to help him come down from his orgasm, his long moans slowing and coming to an end as did your hand. You both laid put, your upper half on him, one of his arms wrapped around you.

“Thanks” he smiled down at you, your face scrunching up at his word.

“Don’t thank me you weirdo” you both laughed lightly before you reached up and caressed his cheek, “I need you to fuck me now.”

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floralcyanide · 2 years

Text

The Extra || Austin Butler x OC

Chapter Four

Pairing: Austin Butler x OC

Warnings: language, mention and description of alcohol, description of drinking, being drunk, passing out, austin being an asshole, hinting at innuendo

Word Count: 3011

>> yay for chapter four! we're about to hit a major plot point so buckle up buttercups. I know aus is being an absolute ass in the beginning of this, but we love to see character development, right? anyway, please enjoy this chapter! <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Add yourself to the taglist HERE

I've decided to start writing again for the first time in a year. After what happened yesterday between Austin and me, I needed to get out some pent-up emotion about the entire situation. From before the breakup to during and after the breakup until today, there have been many different feelings towards Austin and our relationship. I don't hate him- I never did. But there's still anger and resentment towards him, and even hostility because I feel he's solely responsible for our seperation. However, there's also a deep sadness for what could've been and how easily things just ended. Our relationship went out like a quiet flame. There's a touch of relief, though, because I can be who I want and not worry about someone breathing down my neck and shoving possible roles in my face at any given time. But Austin did apologize, and deep down, I think he didn't truly mean his words. He was just upset and emotional, which sometimes makes us do and say stupid things. For example, me acting like I had no idea who Austin was upon seeing him for the first time in a year. I regret it now, just as Austin regrets what he said, but it has provided an opportunity for us to at least be friends again. And what's a better way to start over than not knowing who someone is?

I'm deep in thought with my fingers flying across the keyboard. I almost miss the buzzing of my phone next to me.

Get together at my place at 6. You in?

It's a text from Austin. I find it odd that he thought to invite me to a gathering, but he agreed to try to be friends again. As much as I want to not go, I find myself getting a little giddy to see my new friends again, and maybe Austin as well.

Sure. Do I need to bring anything?

Nope. Everything is covered. Here's the address.

I lean back in my desk chair, letting out a deep breath. I guess I'll finish up what I'm writing and get ready. I have about two hours to do so. I planned on staying holed up in my apartment writing until I physically couldn't anymore. It's rare to get a craving to write like this, but it's also rare for everyone in the cast I'm friends with to hang out all at once. Everyone has been so busy lately. I reluctantly close my laptop and push myself up from the chair, trudging over to the closet. I decide it's best to wear something casual and comfortable, but nice too. It's pretty warm here in Australia, so I choose a cute sundress I have tucked away. It comes to my mid-thigh, so it shows enough but not too much. I'm not trying to impress anyone, but maybe make someone realize what they've been missing. I grab some simple sandals to go with the dress. I set my clothes aside and quickly shower, braiding my hair down my shoulder when I get out. I apply a little makeup and then get dressed. When I finish getting ready, I realize it's about time to leave. Grabbing my phone and a small bag, I head out the door and walk to Austin's condo, which is just a few blocks away by the beach.

When I arrive, Olivia and Luke are seated at the kitchen island while Dacre is fumbling with the record player in the corner of the living room. Tom has yet to arrive, but no one expects him to since he's so busy.

"Roman!" Olivia smiles and gets up from her seat to greet me when she notices my appearance, "I'm glad you made it!"

She envelops me into a hug which I accept, hugging her back. Luke nods at me from his seat, his hand encircling a glass of what I suspect is whiskey. No doubt it came from a bottle of Austin's. He is currently making a glass of something at the counter, which I'm curious about. I let go of Olivia, and she makes her way back to her seat as I walk over to where Austin is standing in the kitchen.

"What are you concocting over here?" I ask, eyeballing the numerous bottles on the counter.

"Take a wild guess," Austin glances at me over his shoulder, mixing the liquor together.

He hands the glass to me, and I take a whiff of it. To my surprise, it's my drink of choice; a Long Island Iced Tea. When I'm not drinking vodka, that's my go-to.

"You remembered," I raise my eyebrows, taking a sip. Austin had a talent for mixing everything perfectly every time.

"Of course I did," he whispers, winking at me before turning around to help Dacre find a vinyl to play.

"How many of these do you own?" Dacre asks exasperatedly from the living room.

I lean against the island, tasting my drink as Austin and Dacre banter back and forth.

"I thought you were more of a vodka girl," Luke jokes, motioning to my drink. He must've recalled me drinking vodka at the bar the first time we met.

"Depends on how I'm feeling. But I prefer a little bit of everything," I say.

Luke hums in acknowledgment, "I like the dark stuff. Austin has good taste," he says, inspecting the glass in his hand.

"I have to agree," Dacre says as he approaches the three of us, his eyes meeting mine.

The two men must've decided on an Elvis vinyl because I can hear him softly singing in the living room.

"Did he make you a drink too?" I ask with a chuckle.

"No, not yet. I meant Austin had great taste in everything, really. Including music and women," Dacre says casually.

I looked at him, puzzled, before collecting myself before someone saw my face.

"He was telling me about someone he dated previously," Dacre leans on the opposite side of the counter, mirroring my position.

"Ooh, who was the lucky lady, Austin?" Olivia wiggles her eyebrows.

"Ah, no one," Austin shrugs, "It's been over for a while. But I'd agree with Dacre and say my taste is pretty good, though," he smirks, glancing over at me briefly.

I down the rest of my drink in one go, much to everyone's surprise.

"That was a really good drink, Austin. Make me another one please?" I say, my eyes boring into his.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Austin says, taking the glass from my hand and walking to the counter.

Dacre holds in a laugh while Luke silently takes a sip of his drink, almost as if he picked up on something he probably shouldn't mention. Meanwhile, Olivia looks at me like I killed a man.

"Are you okay, Roman?" she chuckles, "That was quite a bit to drink."

"Yep," I say, popping the 'p,' "Just wanting to feel good is all."

I turn around and take a few steps toward where Austin is at the counter, mixing my drink.

"Does Dacre know?" I ask quietly, looking around to ensure no one is watching our conversation. Luckily, no one is paying attention except Dacre, who is looking directly at me.

"Yes," Austin says, "But only because you told him," he purses his lips.

"I only told him because he somehow knew already," I eye him suspiciously.

Austin only makes eye contact with me for a moment before sighing, "Okay, fine, I've told him about you. He must've put the pieces together. I wasn't expecting him to make a comment."

I rub my temple, "Dammit. Thankfully Dacre isn't the type to run his mouth like that, or at least I hope so," I look over to see him chatting with Luke about something, "I feel like he would've told someone by now if he were."

Austin doesn't say anything and hands me my drink, looking me directly in the eye.

"What?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"I just wish you had told the truth," he says.

I sigh, taking my drink and walking back to the island where the others are. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Austin strides over to the door and reveals Tom with a nice bottle of bourbon in his hands.

"Hey," Austin says, and the two of them embrace momentarily, "We thought you weren't gonna make it!"

"I got done with filming just in time today. Had a moment to stop by somewhere and pick this up," Tom smiles, holding up the bottle for everyone to see.

A string of hellos comes from the group as Tom approaches the kitchen. He sits between Luke and me on the stool as Austin grabs six glasses from the cabinet.

"Would you like to do the honors, Tom?" he asks, motioning to the bottle.

"Don't mind if I do," Tom chuckles, breaking the seal.

Everyone cheers as Austin sits the glasses down, allowing Tom to pour some bourbon into them. Luke and I are still nursing our drinks, but we still take a sip of the dark liquid. I knew immediately that I'd probably be getting drunk just off the little bit of bourbon and the rest of my current drink. I begin taking large gulps of the Long Island when no one is looking. Tonight was already starting to get weird.

"Let's head to the living room and get comfortable there," Austin suggests. Everyone nods in agreement, walking over to the living room.

I sit on one of the couches, Dacre sitting on one side of me with Olivia on the other. Austin and Luke take the other couch while Tom takes one of the accent chairs. Dacre stretches and puts an arm behind me, and Austin all but glares at him. Olivia is too busy scrolling through her phone to notice Austin's eyes burning holes into Dacre's arm behind my head. Seeing Austin jealous makes me almost want to laugh. Maybe there's something still there, especially with the earlier comment about having great taste in women. I almost wish for Austin to be jealous, as bad as that sounds. Does that mean I still have feelings towards him? I'm not sure how to answer that. Tom notices I've zoned out a little. I haven't touched my bourbon, and my eyes are fixated on Austin's shoes.

"So, Roman," Tom says, and I snap my head in his direction, "When are you gonna be back on set to film?"

"Hopefully, in the next few days," I smile, finally taking another sip of the bourbon.

"I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that we've missed seeing you outside of Luke's trailer," Tom says with a chuckle.

A blush rises to my cheeks, "I'll be back soon, guys. I'm not needed outside of his trailer for now."

Austin raises an eyebrow at me, probably wondering what I'm doing in Luke's trailer. He didn't really hang out with Olivia, Luke, Dacre, and me because he had the most scenes to film out of everyone here. I never mentioned to him that we all hung out, so I can only imagine what he's thinking. But I'll let him think. Hard.

Luke must've caught a glance at Austin's face because he starts giggling from next to him, "Roman, that sounds really weird out of context."

I lift my glass up while laughing, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Lucas. You know I'm always with three other people when I hang with you."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that," Luke nudges Austin's shoulder with his, nearly doubled over in laughter at this point.

"No more bourbon for you, Luke," I snort as I watch Austin relax, "And you, Austin, don't look so sad. We'd invite you too, but you're busy."

"Oh, I know," Austin looks down, clenching his jaw slightly, "I just didn't think you would be fucking with one of my co-stars, let alone two."

The sip of bourbon I just took almost shoots from my nose, and Olivia audibly gasps from next to me. Tom raises his eyebrows in shock while Dacre retracts his arm from behind me. Luke has a look of complete distaste on his face as he turns to Austin.

"What the hell, mate?" Luke asks, appalled that Austin would say such a thing out of nowhere.

I wasn't expecting it to come out of his mouth either. Maybe I let him think too hard. I down the rest of the bourbon without a word. The room falls silent.

"That was a dick move, man," Dacre mumbles.

I quietly get up and go to the kitchen to pour another glass of bourbon, this time all the way to the top of the glass. Just when I thought Austin had already said the rudest thing to me, he comes back with a trick up his sleeve. To assume I would sleep with even one of his coworkers was a low blow, but two? What the hell is wrong with him to think that? Also, his comment opened the door to our past that I didn't want to be opened. Now everyone is going to know we have history. I take a shaky gulp of the bourbon, not daring to turn around and acknowledge everyone in the room behind me. Suddenly, I feel a gentle hand on my upper arm. I slowly turn around, fully expecting Austin to come to say something else rude to me. But instead, it's Tom.

"Would you like to step outside with me for a moment?" he motions to the door.

"Sure," I say, not looking him in the eyes as I walk towards the entrance.

The two of us exit the condo and stand on the balcony that overlooks the ocean. Nothing is said for a few minutes as I continue to take large sips of the dark alcohol. With every gulp, my head gets fuzzier. We are leaning against the balcony edge, staring at the waves as they crash onto the shore.

"Are you okay, Roman? I know what Austin said had to have struck a nerve," Tom asks finally.

"Yeah," I breathe out, "I wasn't expecting it," I say, inspecting the now half-empty glass in my hand.

"Did something happen between you two?" Tom is now facing me as his forearms rest against the railing.

I nod wordlessly.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"If I tell you," I say quietly, "You have to promise to not say anything to anyone else. Dacre already knows, but no one else does on set."

"Your secret is safe with me," Tom pats his chest.

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly before answering, "Austin and I dated for five years until a year ago when I broke up with him. I've been lying about not knowing who he is. But we both agreed we'd continue to act like we didn't know each other so we could get to know each other all over again, but I guess that didn't work out."

Tom only hums in response before speaking, "I could tell there was something between you two when you looked at each other."

I finally look at Tom with complete attention, and he doesn't really have an expression on his face. Almost like he already knew. Maybe at this point, everyone does for all I know.

"How do you mean?" I asked, swirling the bourbon around in the glass a little.

"You can always tell when two people love each other by how they look at one another," Tom says, standing up straight.

"I can't say I still love him, or at least not like I used to. The reason why we broke up is that he didn't support my career. I constantly heard that my job choice wasn't good enough and that I deserved a better one because I could do it."

"Well, are you capable of it?" Tom asks.

"I don't know. But I'd rather stay out of the limelight. Besides, I'm just an extra, anyway," I say, downing the rest of the bourbon.

"Says who?" Tom furrows his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Says Austin," I say, beginning to walk back to the door.

"Prove him wrong, then," Tom says, opening the door for me, "Because you, young lady, are more than that."

I look up at Tom and nod, "Thank you."

He just smiles and closes the door behind us. The condo is silent except for the vinyl still playing. Tom and I walk into the living room to see everyone awkwardly on their phones, except Austin, who is sitting in a chair with his arms crossed. He notices I've walked in and stands up immediately.

"Roman, can I talk to you?" he grabs my elbow softly, and I yank it away.

"I'll give you five minutes," I say, trying not to slur. The alcohol began to hit me full force.

The two of us enter the kitchen, where we're out of earshot. I turn and face Austin, who looks really guilty.

"I'm sorry for saying that. I shouldn't have assumed anything or even said it out loud-"

"Sorry for saying what, Austin? I want you to repeat it back to me. And don't apologize just because you likely got scolded by everyone here," I spit, my blood running hot with drunken anger.

"I'm apologizing because I mean it. I'm sorry for saying you were fucking around with my co-stars. I'm sorry for not thinking before I speak," Austin grabs my elbow again, to which I pull it from his grasp again.

"Sorry, but I can't forgive you right now," I chuckle, everything becoming a little blurry, "For someone who is an actor, you really don't know when to not pretend, do you?"

Austin is now holding both of my arms to steady me, "Roman, what are you talking about? Here, let me take you to the guest room."

"I'm talking about you really sucking at pretending you don't still love me," I manage to get out before everything around me fades to black.

taglist: @cozacorner @onxlymnsn @anangelwhodidntfall @butlersluvbot @jolovesfandoms @austinbutler17 @slutforblueeyes @misspygmypie @mamaspresley @mirandastuckinthe80s @bobbykennedyfan @sodonebruh @lizzymizzy-blogg @defnotreadingfanfics12 @izzvoid @homebodybirkin2003 @kaycinema @thatonemoviefan @kittenlittle24 @tubble-wubble @kaycinema @annemarie168 @adoreyouusugar @csmt-m @apparently-sunshine

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alwayslovingharry · 1 year

Text

Our Last Summer

A/N: Hello, in my country it's already past midnight on the 2nd, so I'm a bit late (in my country), but in honour of Harry's birthday I've decided to publish the next part of this story’s, when you read it you'll see why I wanted to publish it today. I hope you like it and enjoy it very much. And of course (although I know he'll never see this), HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY

previous part

PAIRING: Harry Styles x Hailey Foster (1Dmember!reader)

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: Not an english native speaker.

SUMMARY: Hailey goes on Late Late and has a "surprise" reunion with someone. (This day has been divided into three parts and this is the first one.)

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04/05/2017 (⅓)

"The great Hailey Foster, everybody. "

The whole audience applauds and James hugs me as he thanks me for coming. After the interview where he asked me about the Met Gala and my new modelling projects, James decided it would be a good idea to end the show with a riff-off with The Filharmonic where he argues that the bands of the past are better than the ones of the last few years.

While James sang snippets of Everybody by the Backstreet Boys and Bye Bye Bye by NSYNC, I sang She Looks So Perfect by 5SOS, Somebody To You by The Vamps and Fly With Me by the Jonas Brothers. Of course, as in all his riff-offs, he admitted that the bands now are better so I had to console him telling him that the band of the past are classics before we started singing History together. Singing History brought back memories of my last visit to Late Late with the boys.

"You were perfect, my dear.”

"Thank you for inviting me, I love to come and pay you a little visit every now and then."

"It's a pleasure to have you here, you're always invited."

I hug James again and he hugs me back. We've always got on well, ever since Louis and Harry introduced us at one of the first gigs of the first tour with the boys. The audience starts to leave the set and I walk with James towards the dressing rooms.

"When is your flight home?" James asks as he walks me to the dressing room where all my stuff is.

"Tomorrow at noon, tonight is my last night, I can't wait to go back home."

"Oh, I wanted to invite you over for dinner." we both arrive at my dressing room and James opens the door for us to enter, letting me go in first. "But Julia wasn't feeling too well today and I don't want to leave her alone with our 2 little monsters."

"Well, it doesn't matter, next time I come to back to LA or you come back to London we can plan something more calmly, so she can come too."

"Sure, she'd love to see you, it's been so long since you two have seen each other." replies James as I sit down on the couch and take off the sandals I was wearing in the interview. "Do you mind if I leave before you go? I'm really worried about her, she doesn't usually get sick."

"Of course not, don't worry, I'll be fine. Your team is the best, if I need anything before I leave I'll ask them."

"Thank you so much Hailey, I promise I'll make it up to you next time you come. And don't hesitate to ask the staff for anything, they will help you with anything you need. Before I leave I'll arrange for someone to come and escort you to the photo booth so you can put up the picture they took you earlier."

"Okay, I'll be waiting."

"Then I'll let you get changed in peace. I wish you a safe trip back and I hope we meet again soon," I stand up again and James comes back over to me for a quick hug.

"I hope so, tell Julia I hope she gets better."

"I'll tell her." James walks back to the dressing room door, opening the door and turning around before walking out the door. "Have a nice flight back. "

"Thanks James."

James closes the door on his way out and I start to change into my usual clothes.

As I had been one of Versace's guests for the Met and we were going to talk about it in the interview, the Versace team had arranged to bring me an dress for the interview this afternoon to the studio with matching sandals.

I love the outfit, but with the temperature in LA today I feel much more comfortable in my everyday black shorts and t-shirt with my favourite black converse. For going from the hotel to the studio and back to the hotel it's the perfect outfit.

When I finish getting dressed and lacing up my trainers, I make sure to leave my dress and sandals in their case and box so that they can be picked up by the programme crew without a problem. Once everything is ready, I sit down on the sofa and open my Instagram. Barely 5 minutes have passed when there's a knock on the door and I get up to open it.

"Hi." he greets me as soon as I open the door.

"Hi...w-what are you doing here?"

"I was in the studio preparing next week's shows and I met James just as he was leaving, he asked me to bring this for you and escort you to where they put up the pictures." he says as he hands me the picture they took of me earlier along with a drawing pin to put on the wall.

"Yes, he told me he would send someone from the staff for that...but I didn't expect you to be working as a messenger for the show now," I joke, getting a small smile to appear on his lips.

"It's just for the next week, you know, in case the album and solo career thing doesn't work out" he plays along as he leans against the door with his shoulder.

"Well, thank you very much," I reply as I wave the photo in my hand, "but you don't have to come with me if you don't want to, I can go by myself. I know where it is, don't worry.”

"I've finished everything I had to do for the day, so I don't mind joining you. It's not like I have plans for tonight either," he says as I walk back into the dressing room and retrieve my bag from the vanity chair. “Besides, I've been tasked by James, what image of me would I give him if I don't carry out this simple order."

I walk back to the door and he stops leaning against the frame. His hair is even shorter than the last time we met and now instead of a suit he's wearing a blue shirt with a Hawaiian print over a white tank top combined with black trousers and his typical brown Chelsea boots.

"Well, I was ready to go, so we can go now," I say as he turns away from the door and we walk out into the hallway.

We walk silently down the corridor together and I can feel Harry glance sideways at me from time to time.

"I know you were in Studio 1 the other day when I was at the Graham Norton show," he says suddenly and I turn to look at him. "I know because the guy you ran into, Mitch, is one a good friend of mine and my guitarist. He told me he bumped into you, literally."

"Oh...Mitch...yeah, I remember him, a...bit peculiar but he seemed nice," I reply as I remember the long-haired guy with the guitar that I bumped into.

"Yeah, he might seem kind of weird at first, but once you get to know him you realise he's one of the best guys you've ever met. But the thing is, you were there."

"Yes I was, but what's your point?"

"Well..." a staff member walks past us down the hallway and we both wave at her "he told me he saw you there on the way to Graham's set but I didn't even see you, no one has told me they saw you except him. And...I needed to know why you were there, so when James told me you were going to be the guest today, I thought I'd come and see you and ask you."

"So James had something to do with you being here...he told me that Julia wasn't quite right and that's why he was leaving."

"In his defence, the Julia thing is totally true, he just helped me find an excuse to see you."

We finally get to the wall where all the pictures of the guests are and I look for the picture of One Direction's last visit to the show. As Louis had told me, his picture with Steve Aoki was right next to it. Carefully, I start to change a few photos so that in the end my picture is next to Louis' and the band's picture.

"I just wanted to ask you if it was a coincidence that you were in the studio and you didn't know I was there or you knew and didn't even want to see me?" he says as I turn to look at him again, seeing that he's much closer than before.

I can see in his eyes how impatient he is to hear my answer. We both keep our eyes locked on each other.

"You could say it was a coincidence," I reply without looking away. "If I'm being honest I had no idea you were there, I was there accompanying Jack to a meeting with a producer who told me you were there. He also offered me that his assistant would accompany me to the studio to see you while they had the meeting and...I accepted."

"So why didn't I see you, did you regret wanting to come and see me?"

"No, I didn't regret it. I really wanted to see you at that moment, "I don't know if I imagined it, but I could have sworn I saw my comment make his eyes sparkle a little more than usual. "But after I found your friend, I found my manager."

"Brenda, the harpy."

"Yeah, her." I chuckle slightly at how little affection he still has for her. "She told me I couldn't see you, and forced me to go back to the meeting with Jack. Your manager also showed up but didn't say much about what I was doing there.”

"Jeff didn't say anything about you being there or that he'd seen you, I thought only Mitch had seen you."

"Well, managers have always shown that they only know things when they want to, it's not like it's anything new."

I smile tiredly and pull away from Harry, turning to look at the picture wall again. Soon I feel him move closer again, his chest almost brushing against my back.

"I would have loved to see you, I really would," he whispers.

I glance down to where my left hand is, seeing how close it is to his. I feel my hair move with each of his breaths, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

When I woke up in my hotel room this morning, the possibility of seeing him, let alone being this close to each other, didn't even cross my mind. But here we are.

"You don't have to say yes out of politeness, but I wanted to ask you to dinner today, right now," he says as I feel him take a couple of steps away from me, and I turn around to see him nervously running his right hand through his hair, "I know this Italian place that's really quiet and has some of the best food I've had here in Los Angeles. But maybe you already have plans or... you just don't want to. "

"I've got the flight back to London tomorrow, but I think...I could accept dinner. Especially if it's Italian food."

Hearing my reply, Harry gives me one of his big smiles.

"So, what are we waiting for? Let's go get that food already."

Without waiting for me, he holds out his hand, offering it for me to take. I barely hesitate a second and grab it, feeling the cool metal of his rings between my fingers. Together we walk quickly through the corridors of the studio to the car park, where we arrive, our hands still intertwined.

"This morning I almost took my motorbike, but luckily I didn't, I wouldn't have brought two helmets," he says as we walk through the car park.

"Don't you keep breaking them every time you touch them?"

“Ha ha, that's funny," he replies wryly, "It was only once and at least I can say I know how to ride a motorbike, or at least I know how to ride something."

"Hey," I complain. "For your information, I got my licence last year."

"I don't believe you, you just made that up."

"Of course not! I was tired of having to rely on an Uber, taxi or driver to get me everywhere. I wanted to have a bit more freedom. So I got my licence while I was spending the summer in Manchester with my parents.”

"Then if that's true, I hope you have set up a separate account full of money."

"Why?"

"You driving? Someone's going to get hurt, you need to set up a compensation fund."

"You're such an idiot!" I reply, punching him in the arm. "Like you're an expert formula 1 driver, you're so arrogant. "

"Of course I could be a race car driver if I wanted to," he says haughtily.

"You love yourself so much...you are too arrogant sometimes." as Harry leads me to the passenger door of what I recognise as his big black Range Rover, opening the door and pulling me closer to the seat with his hand still linked with mine.

"I was joking, knowing you I'm sure you are a great driver, whenever you do something you do it with a determination that I've always envied." I sit back in the car seat and Harry lets go of my hand.

"Thank you, that was sweet," I smile, hoping he doesn't notice the blush on my cheeks, and he responds with a smile as well.

He closes my door and walks quickly around the front of the car and into the driver's seat. We both fasten our seatbelts and he starts the engine of the car.

"I'll let you play whatever music you want, you can conect your Spotify in the car if you want," he indicates as he starts to manoeuvre out of the car park.

I pull my phone out of my bag, searching my Spotify library for a good playlist.

"The restaurant's not too far from a place I'd like to show you after dinner, if you don't mind."

"Only on the condition that I won't go back to my hotel too late, I have to be at the airport soon and I don't want to miss my flight by falling asleep tomorrow because I haven't slept."

"I promise you that you'll be at your hotel before you know it."

I finally find a playlist I like and plug it into the car radio. Our Last Summer from the cast of Mamma Mia starts playing over the car speakers and I turn to look at Harry, who's humming the song without taking his eyes off the street as he smiles.

"Will you never get over your obsession with Mamma Mia?

"Will you ever get over your obsession with The Notebook or Love Actually?" I reply as I put my phone away again.

"Never."

" Well, then you have my answer." Harry lets out a small laugh that gets a smile to appear on my face again.

I turn my head and watch the streets of Los Angeles go by as we both hum along to the songs from my favourite movie. Every now and then I turn my head, watching Harry move his fingers around the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

I know there's so much I should tell him, talk to him, but seeing him so peaceful and happy as he drives keeps me from telling him anything. I've hurt him so much that I can't, I don't have the courage to open my mouth and blurt it out. So I keep humming along with him, keeping this little bubble of happiness I feel when I'm with him.

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Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it, please leave any comments or leave a like it if you enjoyed it.

See you soon :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles soft fanfic #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x famous!reader #music #one direction

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zoeykallus · 2 years

Text

Hunter – Dirty Little Thief 6 – Scorching Hot

Hunter x female reader She/Her (Enemies To Lovers)

Warnings: Suggestive 17+

Strongly Suggestive (No actual sex)/Strong Language/ Physical Contact/ Tiny Bit of Fluff

________

Sometimes actions speak louder than words. Hunter and you aren't very good at communicating, but you still know how to show each other how attracted you are to one another.

_________

What Happened Before:

Dirty Little Thief

Part 2 -Fairplay

Part 3- What We Do Not Admit

Part 4 - Provocative

Part 5 - Fighting And Loving

Part 6 - Scorching Hot

After you finished the laundry and dodged Crosshair's prying questions, it was almost noon. As you walked down the ramp into the open, an uncomfortable heat hit you. The day had heated up tremendously.

Wrecker was working with Echo to get a huge pop-up pool ready. A wonderful idea, especially in this heat, you thought. Hastily you went back to the Marauder. It was a day off, it was hot, a perfect excuse to dress in something civil, breezy, maybe even slightly revealing.

You put on a white slightly shorter, loosely falling skirt, along with an emerald green V-neck shirt with slit sleeves, and underneath your only bikini and a pair of chic but comfortable sandals.

When you went back outside, Wrecker was already standing in his swim trunks next to the pool that was just filling up very slowly. He was discussing with Echo that it would take too long to fill the pool if they didn't tap more water sources.

But what you were really looking for was Hunter. You couldn't see him anywhere, obviously he wasn't back yet, wherever he had gone.

"Does anyone know where Hunter is?" you asked innocently.

Echo and Wrecker turned to you, both pausing for a moment to look at you in the unfamiliar outfit.

Echo was the first to regain his composure and said, "He was at Cid's earlier, I think he changed there and went to the market, he said he would be back soon."

You wondered what he was doing at the market.

"Ey, Ad'ika" Wrecker brought you out of your thoughts "Echo and I are going to get something in town for a barbecue and drinks, for a relaxing day and evening by the pool. Is there anything in particular you want us to bring you?"

Hunter, you thought silently, but then said, "Those big fat mushrooms that I can't remember the name of"

Behind you, Tech cleared his throat. "Red lorath caps, that's what the locals call it".

"Thanks Tech" you replied and to Echo you added, "That what he just said".

Tech, Wrecker and Echo went to town together, you stayed by the pool and watched the water level slowly rise.

"Nice new outfit, don't think I've seen you in it before".

Startled you turned around, Hunter was standing behind you, he was wearing shorts, a shirt and sandals. A very unfamiliar image.

"I can only return that," you said with a grin.

"Where is everyone?"

"In town getting stuff for the barbecue".

Hunter laughed, "Let me guess, Wrecker's idea? Why wouldn't it be, the weather is perfect, the pool is already up I see, it will be full soon too. The day has started well and seems to be holding at this level"

You nodded in agreement, a dreamy permanent smile on your lips. Neither of you said a word about the kiss, about how attracted you were to each other. You were determined to talk to him, but now you were face to face and you didn't know what to say. He seemed to feel the same way.

Hunter helped you put up a sun shade for the pool and the camp table where you would eat later. Neither of you said a word.

Hunter took off his shirt, it was warm enough and he would be walking around in just swim shorts later anyway.

But you couldn't help but stare at him. He looked like a painted man, hard muscles under tanned skin. He had a little chest hair curling darkly and you saw his happy trail that started just below his belly button and ended somewhere below the belt, beyond his waistband.

Your pulse quickened a little.

Hunter smirked as he noticed your gaze and the change in your pulse.

"Do you see something you like? Do you need a cold shower, maybe?"

You blinked and felt heat rise in your cheeks, felt caught. On impulse you took off your shirt, after all you had your bikini on underneath. Hunter's smile froze and he couldn't move for a moment. You could see him swallow, finally he muttered, " Ye fightin' rough".

With a grin you said, "See something you like? Do you need a cold shower maybe?"

You deftly grabbed the hose from which water was still running into the pool and pointed it at Hunter, soaking his hair and chest and parts of his shorts.

Hunter let out a startled grunt. When you took the hose back down with a laugh, he wiped the water and wet strands from his face. He looked at you in disbelief.

"You little rascal!" he growled with a wry smile "Well wait till I get my hands on you".

He grabbed you faster than you could prepare to run away. You let out a small yelp as he held you against his wet body and had to laugh.

"Got you, a lot easier than I thought," he teased you with a smile, his hands on your hips.

Your pulse quickened again, so close to his beautiful body, his dazzling smile looking at you, his hands on your hips. Heat rose in your cheeks and ears and other places that were much more omnipotent.

Quietly he said to you, "There it is again, the rapid pulse, temperature rise and that sweet heavy smell."

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"Smell?" you asked barely louder than a whisper.

"Your arousal, it smells sweet and heavy with a very slight bitter undertone, like one of those sour fruits you soak in honey and sugar before you eat it" he painted you a picture of what he could smell on you.

"Hunter," you said a little breathlessly.

"Yes, mesh'la?"

"The kiss....," you began, but couldn't get any more words out, your mind blank again.

You sighed softly but Hunter smiled unperturbed and asked, "You want another kiss?"

Blinking, you looked up at him as he leaned back a little to look at you.

"What?" you asked uncertainly.

He smiled, his expression soft and his eyes so full of anticipation.

"Tell me again to kiss you," he demanded softly.

You felt wonderfully breathless as you said, "Kiss me, Hunter."

The next moment his lips were on yours, soft warm, gentle yet demanding. His tongue, slipped into your mouth as you moaned softly, velvety touching yours and sending an impulse through your body that echoed between your thighs.

One of his hands wandered over the bare skin of your back, pulling you even closer. A soft, quiet, expectant sigh came from your mouth and moved into the kiss as you felt his slowly hardening length against your thigh and his free hand very slowly moved under the hem of your skirt.

You wanted this man, like crazy, here and now, all of your senses, every fiber of your body seemed to be electrified and drawn to him.

Before you could stop it the words came across your lips, "Fuck me..."

Hunter moaned, his hands gripping tighter and he broke away from the kiss. He looked at you, pupils dilated.

"You want me to...?"

You nodded feverishly "Yes, very much so."

He swallowed, nervous, pleased and excited all at once.

"Maybe we should choose another time for this" he said uncertainly.

It was so hot that your body heat had already made you sweat without much happening.

You tried to clear your thoughts and agreed with him, finally.

"The others could come back anytime," you said.

You slowly broke away from him and looked at him breathlessly.

"Nice" someone said dryly in the background "Too bad the peepshow is already over, but it was nice while it lasted".

"Crosshair!" exclaimed Hunter and you in unison, startled.

The Sniper leaned back on the camping chair at the table, chewed on his toothpick with a grin, and said teasingly, "Maybe you two hop in the pool now and cool off quick before the others get back."

@oneshot-one-kill

@moonstrider9904

@photogirl894

@chlorine-claws

@chxpsi

@nunanuggets

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@mybigfatspoonielife

@where-is-my-mind-tho

@andyoufollowyourheart

@amyroswell

@kaminocasey

@peacefulwizardfox

@charlesisdaddy

@clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

Text

From Blood, Love and Courage - Chapter Sixteen.

Thank you so much to my regular readers and reviewers, I love you all hugely for your commitment to the story! Again, 25 notes are needed to unlock the next chapter.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen

Words - 6,042

Tag list - In the comments, please message to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Oh, look at you, that smile!” Maggie greeted Lily with as she entered her exam room, on the Friday that marked seven weeks since her attack. “You look gorgeous.” she complimented, noticing how nicely Lily had done her makeup, and how lovely she looked, dressed in a simple, light grey dress, sandals covered in pyramid spikes and a pair of oversized sunglasses.

Receiving the hug, Lily kissed her cheek, a little spark going through her at the praise. It was the first time she’d actually made an effort with her appearance since it happened. Angel was taking her out for lunch and so she wanted to look nice for him. Also, she’d been scared up until that point, scared of her own boyfriend seeing her at her most attractive.

He’d been wonderful in the fact he hadn’t so much as even hinted towards anything sexual resuming between them, not even speaking of it at all, in fact, Lily knowing he was waiting for her to come to him, which had been what she needed, as the idea of sex terrified her. Even with him. Over the last few days, though, she’d been very thoughtful over perhaps moving towards that resuming, testing the waters, seeing how it sat with her. Consensual sex and rape were entirely different things, but of course, there was one thing fundamentally the same, another person being inside of her.

She wanted to be okay with the man she loved being that person again, and one thing she needed to do in order to facilitate that was make sure she was okay internally, hence the visit to Maggie. She couldn’t feel her stitches any longer, nor any discomfort or pain, thankfully, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

“Okay, so feet up,” Maggie began, draping a small paper sheet for privacy over Lily’s lap. “Now, of course, last time you were here, the clamp scared the shit out of you. Am I going to be okay to use it now? I understand the idea of something penetrating you could still be frightening, so I want to be mindful of that.”

Lily let out a long breath slowly, nodding. “Yes. Well, I’m saying yes. How I react when I feel it might dictate otherwise.”

Maggie nodded, smiling as she gloved up. “All at your own pace.” She moved to her stool then, taking a seat and preparing everything she needed. “Okay, sweetheart, I’ll just push the clamp in now a tiny bit, then you let me know if you’re alright.”

“Okay,” Lily spoke, taking a deep breath. Her thighs twitched when she felt it press, slipping into her a tiny bit. ‘Breathe, just breathe. You’re in Maggie’s office, she’s your doctor and your friend, you’re okay. You’re in a safe place.’

“How we doing up there, Lils?”

“Keep going.” Maggie did as instructed, slipping the clamp within her slowly until it was in place.

“Okay, it’s fully inserted, you did so well. Am I okay to widen it now?” Lily gave her the okay, Maggie doing such, thinking how brave she was. She’d done brilliantly, her legs quivering a little, but her determination not to give into fear was hugely commendable.

“How’s everything looking?” she asked, giving a few moments for Maggie to go about her examination.

“You’ll be pleased to know you’ve healed perfectly. All the tissue is healthy, everything is back to normal. You’re physically able to resume your sex life, whenever you feel ready to do so. How are you feeling about that now?”

Lily got down from the bed, pulling her underwear back on as she spoke. “Like I said when we chatted on Monday, I feel scared still, even though of course, I know it’ll be entirely different with Angel. It’s just the idea of being that vulnerable with someone again, allowing him to be inside of me when the last men who were took so much. And I know he won’t, I know it’s completely different with him, but, yeah. It’s scary, but I want it not to be. I want to reclaim my sexuality, because I do recognise it’s another thing that they took from me.”

Maggie nodded with sympathy, removing her gloves. “A lot of rape victims state exactly the same, that they feel like their rapist took that from them, their desire to feel sexual, and the notion of being okay with that when it does finally return. I think a lot of it is connected to the shame of what they went through, but the fact that you’re clearly stating you can see the difference between the non-consensual attack you went through and your sex life with Angel does stand you in good stead. It doesn’t have to be all at once, either. You can take it a stage at a time. Like we did when we were teenagers, first and second base and all. Have you discussed it with him?”

Lily sighed softly, taking a seat upon another of the small stools within the exam room. “You know, it’s perhaps the only thing we haven’t. I haven’t broached it because it’s been the last thing on my mind, and I know Angel hasn’t because he’s known that, too. He’s been respectful, I know he’s waiting for me to initiate it with him. For someone as sexual as Angel is – and he really fucking is! - that’s huge for him, I acknowledge just how selfless he’s been. I think what happened to me has made him do a lot of growing up, because he did used to be quite emotionally immature in some respects before.”

Maggie smiled, tilting her head. “He’s a good guy, Angel. I like him a lot. Talk to him about it, explain how you feel. That kind of communication will likely go a long way in assisting with your emotional healing. Anyway, lovely girl, I hate to rush you out but I have another patient coming in. You’re still on for Sunday, though?”

“I am, I’ll meet you and Jodie there at 1pm.” They were heading out as a three for lunch and drinks, Lily finally feeling comfortable with the idea of being out in public without Angel being there, or at the very least, trying to see if she could handle it. She knew he’d likely wait on his bike outside the restaurant for a while, just in case she needed him.

Kissing Maggie goodbye in reception, she headed out to her car, driving back to the scrapyard to continue working until lunch, being greeted by a cute sight as she walked over to the clubhouse steps, Creeper and Coco sitting entertaining Charlie, who surprisingly was dressed in his harness (although he couldn’t fly far, he could reach anything at around ten feet in height, so needed a restraint to prevent him being naughty and flying off) jumping around on Creeper’s arm, making his warning noises.

“I know, bro, yeah,” she heard him state, while viewing him stalking up and down. Still, Charlie made his low noises of warning. “Yeah, dude, that’s right in my ear. Where are they? What are you warning me over?”

The bird took perch atop his head, noises loudening, Creeper picking up his plush toy and shaking it, hoping to pacify him. “What? Why you buggin’?” he then asked as Charlie paced his head, squawking even louder.

Coco waved to Lily, and then scanned the surroundings before looking up, giving Creeper a soft elbow to alert him. “There, that’s what he’s mad at!” Pointing at the sky, they saw two buzzards circling around overhead, the birds seemingly the cause of Charlie’s antagonisation. “Charlie has no love for the danger turkeys, man!”

Creeper snorted immediately. “Danger turkeys, fucking hell!” While he laughed his ass off, Charlie grabbed at his leash, shaking it around and bouncing, his comb going up when he saw Lily arrive with them. “Mama!”

“He pretty much hates all other birds. A crow landed in the backyard the other day while he was out there with Angel and he nearly had a heart attack,” Lily spoke, sitting next to Creeper, Charlie hopping from his head onto her shoulder, pulling his leash from Creeper’s grasp and taking it with him.

“He’s the most awesome little dude. I tied his leash onto the buttonhole of my shirt and took him around with me this morning while I was moving the pile of brass that came in. He was jumping around, whistling, yelling at Coco, it was great,” he laughed, scratching Charlie’s chest.

“And you managed to get his harness on him? That’s surprising, he hates having it on,” she commented, puckering her lips at Charlie, who offered forth his beak with a ‘mwah!’ sound.

“Nah, Angel did it, told me he’d savage my hand.”

Lily widened her eyes. “He would have. Surprisingly, he lets Angel do it without question, but when it’s mama here, he plays his luck. Don’t you?”

“Charlie’s a good boy!” the bird squawked, bouncing, beginning to dance. She left him in the capable hands of his new buddies when Angel approached, looking forward to their afternoon off together.

“Damn, I’m such a lucky man,” he greeted her with, sliding his arms around her waist and kissing her. Oh, what he’d have done to give her a deeper kiss, or grab a handful of her gorgeous, rounded butt, but no way. It had been something unsaid between them, because Angel didn’t have a clue how to broach it with her, and was of the opinion it wasn’t a topic for him to raise anyway. When she was ready, he knew she’d let him know. Until then, he was getting some killer definition in his right forearm.

“Thought I’d make the effort for my guy, since he always looks so good for me.” She kissed him again, Angel pulling away to quickly tell a whistling Creeper and Coco to quit it, kissing her cheek repeatedly before sliding his arm around her, walking over to his bike. Since they had all the time they needed, he took her up to San Diego for the afternoon, Lily having mentioned wanting to visit a bar and grill up there that was famous for their steaks. And their margaritas, of which upon her first sip of, she nearly died. As did Angel at the face she pulled.

“Oh my god, that’s so strong!” she hissed, eyes fluttering, going back in for another sip, Angel laughing quietly. “It’s my celebration drink, though. Maggie told me I’m completely healed.”

He’d just been about to ask how her appointment had gone. “Baby, that’s great. Must be a weight off your mind, knowing you’re all good again.” He reached for her, stroking her cheek, Lily turning her head to kiss his palm.

“In getting the all clear, it brings me around to something I want to discuss with you,” she began, taking another sip of her drink. “Now that I actually am physically able to have sex again, I would like to. I have to be honest though and tell you that the thought terrifies me, even when I know with you it’s completely different to someone forcing themselves upon me. It’s still scary to think of, another person being inside of me. I hate that it does, too, because having sex with you is something you know I absolutely love to death, but I need to get my head right with it,” she explained.

His eyes were full of understanding, reaching for her hand and kissing it. “I get it. Well, I don’t and I’ll never have a fucking clue what it is you’re going through, but what I mean is get why the idea of it is frightening for you. You went through something unfathomably traumatic, Lily. It’s just like everything else you’ve faced, though. All in your own time. Whenever you feel ready, just dive on me.”

“I have to say, something else is bugging me about it, too. And I know you’re likely going to be absolutely indignant in the light of me sharing it, I know, but I’m surprised that you’re so enthusiastic about it,” she began, her boyfriend immediately giving her a comically confused face in reply.

“Okay,” he stated, the word slow, drawn out. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

It was a lot for Lily to articulate, trying to find a way to deliver her fears without looking like she was speaking for him and what he might or might not have felt, Angel sensing that worry in her and reaching for her hand. “Because I’m damaged. And you saw that damage close up, and I know you’re too good a guy to ever let it bother you, but I just, I dunno, baby. On some small level, I sometimes wondered if it did.”

He was quicky to reassure her. “The only thing that bothered me about seeing what had happened to you, was that it had happened at all, to see you so hurt. That shit? It broke me. I won’t lie, the mental picture of what you were left with as a result of it, it won’t leave me easily, or ever, but querida, it equally won’t put me off. Damaged was the physical result of your attack, not what you’ve become.”

“See, I knew you’d say something perfect like that, I was just being silly,” she dismissed, waving her hand, shrugging a little as her shoulders drew up.

“Sweet pea, you’ve got a whole load of emotions still swirling about this, doubts, fears, all of that, wondering if I’d see you differently is perhaps only natural. You don’t need to feel like you did a dumb thing by being honest with me. Old Angel, that guy would have likely got all upset and thought about himself first, like, all ‘how dare she see me as someone who’d think that!’ But this guy sitting right in front of you, he ain’t that childish any longer. And seriously, when you’re ready, like I said, just dive on me. Believe me, I’ll catch you!”

Their food was brought out then, Angel glancing at his plate before looking back at her. “Except in the immediate hours after I’ve eaten this half a damned cow. Don’t dive on me then.”

Her soft laughter filled the space, Angel beaming. Seeing her look happy again was all he’d been wanting for over the last seven weeks, watching her going through hell had been undeniably tough, wishing he could take away her pain, carry some of it for her. He knew she wouldn’t be completely back to normal overnight; she was still a little jumpy, but at least he could now enjoy taking her out on a date without her having a panic attack. The freak outs and instances of zoning out were becoming less and less.

Not over with completely, though…

“Excuse me, miss? Are you Lily Armstrong?” a guy asked her on her way back from the restroom, seated with his four friends. Immediately, she was suspicious, her heart beginning to pound rapidly.

Because of this, her reply was a little sharp. “Why’d you ask?”

“Oh, nothing bad! I’m a big fan of yours, is all. My brother, Devante Johnson is on the circuit too, so I’ve seen your fights when I’ve been there supporting him. You’re badass, girl!”

His smile was genuine, his eyes earnest, but still, Lily couldn’t help but feel panicked. “Hey, are you alright? You look a little startled.”

She shook herself, applying reason, reminding herself of Chelsea’s wise words. Not everyone was a rapist. “Yes, sorry. Yeah, I’m fine. It’s nice to meet you, and thanks for the support.” Smiling she shook his hand when he offered it, walking back to Angel. “So, that was my first experience meeting a fan, and immediately, I panicked.” she lamented, taking a seat and finishing her drink.

“What, they recognised you?” Angel began, looking lit up for her, reaching for her hands. “Are you alright now? You still look a little spooked. Remember your breathing exercises.”

She took a few moments to do just that, breathing deeply until the residual uneasy feeling passed. “Yeah, yeah, he recognised me. And I couldn’t even appreciate it. I felt like a fraud, since I’ve done nothing in seven weeks, and of course should have had my fight last week, but cancelled.”

Angel was out of his seat and around the table to sit next to her in a flash. “Lily, you ain’t no fraud, don’t even think that, let alone speak it,” he began, winding an arm around her. “You’ve suffered a setback, from something that some people never get over, and look at you now, getting over it, piecing your life back together, being brave and carrying on. Do you have any idea how fucking amazing I think you are, for doing that?”

She made a small noise of discomfort, almost disagreement, but then sat up a little straighter, leaning her head onto his shoulder. “I do, yeah. You being so supportive and acknowledging how difficult things have been for me has meant the world to me. You’re my rock, Angel.” Kissing the side of his neck, she reached to stroke his chest through his shirt, Angel turning his head and seeking her lips.

It was there, for the first time in seven weeks, they felt into a deep kiss, Angel tightening the arm he placed around her shoulders, his other hand reaching to tickle the side of her neck. It felt good for them both, to have a tiny little fraction of their intimacy restored, Lily humming happily into his mouth as her tongue swirled with his. It didn’t feel scary at all, but then, it was just kisses. Kisses she was okay with, noting the familiar fluttering of butterflies in her tummy, something else she hadn’t felt since her attack.

After arriving back at the clubhouse, they stayed for a few drinks before heading home, deciding to have a quiet night, Lily ordering a pizza and Angel putting Charlie back in his cage, throwing the blanket over so he’d settle before browsing Prime to buy a few movies to watch. They settled on a few 80’s comedies, Steve Martin and the late, great John Candy having them in hysterics, Angel noting that truly, it was the first time he’d hear Lily’s laugh properly in almost two months.

“That’s so nice,” he spoke, hearing her giggling up a storm behind him.

“I’m really good at shoulder rubs, aren’t I?”

He turned from where he was sitting on the floor between her feet. “Yeah, you are. But I meant the laughing. I missed it. I missed you, because you weren’t you for a while back there.”

She halted her rubbing of the large, knotted up muscles, wrapping her arms around him, laying a soft kiss on his cheek. “With every day that passes, you’re reminding me of who I was before. Now, be a good boyfriend and rub my feeties while I sort out your back.”

“Only because you wear stupid assed shoes,” he muttered, grabbing one. “And they stink!”

She was aghast. “They do not! You’re so rude!”

“Fucking cheddar toes!”

Even though at her expense, she wheezed with laughter, locking her legs around his ribcage and squeezing.

“No! No using MMA on me, stop!” he protested, fighting against her as she giggled, cheating to turn and bite her knee, Lily sticking her toes right in his face. “Oh, you gon’ get it now!” He turned her around and dragged her by the thighs, hands diving under her top and tickling her as she screamed with laughter. They ended up in a heap on the floor, both laughing, disentangling before lying on the sofa, Lily happily lain between his long legs with her head on his chest as they watched the end of the movie.

He was just about to put on the next when he realised she’d fallen asleep, smiling and kissing her head before picking her up and carrying her to bed. He took her jeans off and left her at that, Lily bundling herself beneath the blanket, sleepily chiding him, grumpy as she was if disturbed.

“No, no waking up!”

“I’m not waking you, I just put you to bed.”

“Hmmnnnrrrr, doughnuts in the cupboard.” She sometimes did talk utter nonsense if roused slightly from sleep, Angel quietly hissing with laughter before curling around her.

“G’nite, sweet pea.”

“Fuck off, I’m not getting up yet!”

He snorted softly, stroking her thigh. “Yeah, love you too, mamas.”

When she awoke the following morning, Lily was so sleepy that she drifted in and out of slumber, somewhere in that slumber, turning over to cuddle into Angel. She hooked her thigh over his hip, falling back a little, his body going with her. In her half-asleep state, she suddenly woke up very quickly, spooked out at what pressed hard against her pubic mound.

“Woah, what the fuck?” he exclaimed at suddenly being shoved and slapped, Lily so scared that she actually managed to throw herself out of bed and onto the floor with a thud, coming round as she took deep breaths. ‘It’s just Angel, it was just Angel, come on, calm down’ she told herself, heart racing, nerves bouncing. “Baby, you okay down there? Was it a nightmare?” he asked softly, scooting over to the edge of the bed as she sat up, reaching to stroke his arm.

“No, no, not that,” she moaned, sighing and hiding her face in her hands for a few seconds, emerging, running her fingers through her hair. “It’s so fucking embarrassing, but when I curled up to you, well, your morning wood nudged against me, and I was still half asleep, and I just got spooked out. Apparently a big, erect cock is still a no no for me. Even if it’s yours, one I’m very familiar with.”

Immediately, he turned onto his front. “I can’t fucking say I blame you at all for having that reaction.”

She let out a long breath, seeing it in his eyes as she searched them, knowing that while he didn’t want to show it, he’d taken it personally. “It isn’t you, okay? It’s never you. I still love you just as much, and one day I will want you just as much, too, so don’t take it as a rejection, alright?”

He snorted. “I’m not.”

“Baby, yes, you are. It’s okay to feel a certain way, you know.”

“No, it isnt! Because this ain’t about me and it’ll make me a fucking selfish prick if I do make it about me! I’m not being a pendejo about this, Lily. This is about you, not me or how I feel.” It was the kind of selflessness that once upon a time, she likely wouldn’t have expected to come so easily to him, that he’d completely bulldoze his own feelings for the sake of hers. So very much had changed. Lily only wished that Angel’s new found emotional maturity hadn’t come about because of what had happened between them. But, if there was one good thing to come of it, she supposed she could count that as it.

Getting back onto the bed, she made a circular motion with her outstretched finger. “Come on, turn over. I want hugs, but I’ll be the big spoon until you calm down.” He leaned to kiss her before doing exactly that, Lily snuggling close to him, laying kisses against his neck as she wrapped him in her arms, Angel stroking her hands and gripping her forearms, whispering how much he loved her. “I love you, too. You’re the absolute best.”

“As are you, sweet pea. So, what we doing today?” Lily detailed that she’d like to go out and get breakfast before coming home to clean the house, Angel stating he’d run out to get the laundry sorted and leave her in peace for a couple of hours. It was nice, that he could leave her alone in the house and she wouldn’t panic, especially since he’d given her lessons in wielding a weapon. He’d gotten her a lightweight glock, something easy to shoot with, showing her how to prepare and use it correctly and safely, Lily now comfortable enough to carry the G43 in her bag, or keep it close by while she was in the house alone.

Once all of their chores for the day were done, they headed down to the clubhouse, Jodie running to greet them both with hugs from EZ’s trailer, everyone heading into the clubhouse. Inside, there was a rare sight of Bishop with his entire family present, his eldest daughter Darice in his lap, hanging around his neck, Cady busying herself screaming at Hank that he was cheating at the matching pairs game they were playing with her little set of cards, and Josh over playing pool with Coco.

“Please can we go, daddy!” Darice yelled, Bishop making a face of mild disgust at whatever she was trying to talk him into.

“Nope, not doing it.”

“But why?”

“Because you three will bleed me dry, and I don’t like carnies. They’re not to be trusted.” Interesting words from an outlaw.

“But the carnival is only here until tomorrow! Come on, please?”

“Hey, if you don’t wanna go, we don’t mind taking them?” Jodie offered, Darcie turning to beam at her. “I said to EZ I wouldn’t mind heading down there. I’m craving proper cotton candy.”

“Obispo, stop being a grump,” Maggie scolded softly, rubbing her husband’s forearm before getting up to greet Lily. “We’ll all go, you can’t expect Jodie and EZ to babysit all three of them.”

“I’m happy to stay here with Coco,” Josh called, Coco looking indecisive.

“No offence, man, but if there’s a carnival outing, I’m heading down there. Hot chicks everywhere!”

Josh looked interested. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, bro! You need to get on that!”

“Hey, he doesn’t need any further encouragement from you,” Bishop warned, pointing at Coco and then his son. “You’ll rein it in, boy.” Josh grimaced slightly, knowing exactly what his father was referring to, the sight that had greeted him one Saturday morning a few weeks previously, entering his son’s bedroom to find him asleep, with a barely dressed girl on top of him.

Maggie shook her head, giving him a dig with her finger. “You’ve been doing the you know what since you were fourteen. Your hypocrisy is massive, and heck, at least he was safe!”

“Yeah,” he began, Darcie untangling herself to go and grab a Coke that Jodie had fetched for her, “but then see I get the headache of irate fathers coming to bang on my door because my son has been bangin’ on their daughter, exactly like what happened.” Tiffany Morales’ father had not been impressed to learn where his little girl had been the previous evening, marching down to the Losa homestead to raise his voice. He’d backed off quite quickly, though, when he’d learned exactly who Josh’s father was, the eldest of Bishop’s kids later receiving a stern talking to about keeping it in his pants.

“So, can we go?” Darcie asked again.

“Daddy, I want to go too!” Cady shouted.

“It’s your bedtime in two hours, tiny,” he advised.

“Then we need to go now!”

“You gotta love that reasoning,” Hank chuckled. “Come on, man. I’ll help you keep an eye on the kids, Maggie can get Cady back and I’ll take the other two home in the van later if you wanna head back here. I ain’t gonna be out all night, I have a full day of tattooing tomorrow.”

“Alright, fine,” Bishop eventually lamented, receiving a three and a nine-year-old to the lap at high speed, both squealing with delight.

“You up for a little outing?” Lily asked Angel. He contemplated for a few moments.

“Yeah, why the hell not?”

Those leaving (Angel, Lily, the Losa family, EZ, Jodie, Hank and Coco) all finished their drinks before heading out, arriving at the carnival twenty minutes later. The kids were almost at mild hysteria from excitement, Bishop keeping Cady in his arms as she yelled with mirth, one eye on Josh too as they headed past a group of girls around his age, Jodie and Lily holding hands as they found the biggest, scariest looking ride and joined the queue.

“You guys not going on?” Maggie asked their boyfriends, pointing as she joined them.

“Nah, we both get vertigo and fall over,” Angel snorted, looking embarrassed. They’d both been fine as kids, but it had been something they’d both found had hit them suddenly with age, just like their dad had also experienced. “Well, I ain’t as bad as him. He puked on a rollercoaster once, and it was so bad they had to shut it for cleaning!”

EZ immediately elbowed his brother, remembering the mortifying event only too well. The girls all went on, leaving them chatting, Angel hoisting Cady onto his shoulders.

“Why don’t you go on, Angel?” she asked, covering his hair in popcorn dust.

“Because I get this thing where I fall over if I go on rides,” he explained simply, Cady leaning down to look at him, poking his nose with her finger and feeding him a piece of popcorn.

“Chicken!”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are! You should fight it!”

He couldn’t stop laughing. “Pick a fight on an entire fairground ride?”

“Yes! Smash it up!”

“That’s your answer for everything, kid.” That child, god. Angel couldn’t help but think if club rules were changed, she’d make one hell of an outlaw one day. Once Lily, Jodie and Maggie had returned, freshly exhilarated from their little adrenaline rush, they headed over to the shooting range, Coco catching up with them while demolishing a burger, and Maggie taking her leave to be dragged to the teacup ride by a screaming Cady.

“These guns don’t shoot right,” Angel exclaimed after missing the bullseye a couple of times, shaking his head and giving up. Coco put his cash down and picked it up, immediately seeing why. Of course, the game was rigged, someone as proficient as him with rifles spotting immediately that the barrel of the air rifle was cocked ever so slightly to the right. To counter this obvious cheat, he aimed left.

“Darcie, which one do you want?”

“Baby elephant, please!”

“On it.” The carnie looked smug, until Coco hit the bullseye immediately. “What about Cady? What would she like?”

“She loves giraffes.”

Coco nodded at the carnie. “Yo, fetch a giraffe down too, homie.”

“You might miss, though, friend,” he advised.

Immediately, Coco hit the bullseye for a second time. “Not likely.” He handed the toys to Darcie, who hugged him tightly, noticing he’d attracted the attention of a couple of cute girls hanging around to watch. “Hey ladies, what’ll it be?”

“I’ll take a baby elephant?”

“And I’ll take you home if you can get me a hippo?”

He grinned, putting down more cash. “One elephant, one hippo, and one Johnny Cruz on a promise. Alright!” he beamed, Angel grasping his shoulder as he laughed, telling him they’d leave him to it. Bishop and Hank went off with the two elder children to find Maggie, leaving Angel and EZ to spectate while their girlfriends turned into screaming thrill seekers.

“It’s good, you know, to see her smiling, enjoying herself again,” EZ spoke, nodding at where the high moving car of the spider ride flew past them at speed, Lily and Jodie scream laughing as they whizzed past.

Angel smiled, nodding. “Ain’t it? She’s worked so hard to recover herself. She’s got a way to go yet with it, but I’m damned proud of her, how far she’s come. Look at us, though, fuckin’ both sickeningly happy and settled with our ladies. Who’d have thought, man.”

EZ grinned, laughing at Jodie, the side now slowed, his girlfriend shouting “I wanna go again!” with her widened eyes. “Yeah, just us and those adrenaline junkies over there.” His own adrenaline junkie ran into his arms, making her demands for cotton candy known. “Alright, let’s get you fixed up.”

“Tell you what, I wanna go get a root beer, so I’ll meet you guys over there,” Lily spoke, kissing Angel.

“You’re vile, that shit’s so nasty. I can’t even be close to it!”

“Alright, I’ll drink it before I get back,” she bargained, Angel looking unimpressed.

“Then eat half a pack of gum before you kiss me again, because seriously, bleugh!”

“Promise.” She kissed him, heading over to the stand selling it and joining the queue. She was just checking her phone, seeing she had a missed call and a text from Carlos asking what she was doing that evening and whether she, Angel, Jodie and EZ were interested in meeting up for late drinks when suddenly, she was distracted.

“Damn, girl, check out all that ink, shit!” a guy ahead of her spoke, Lily pocketing her phone again, feeling a slight flare of nerves, as she still did. ‘It’s okay, Angel is just across the way, you’re alright, just make conversation’ she told herself, holding out her arm.

“Thanks, I like to think I have a nice collection.”

The guy raised his eyebrows, taking a closer look. “No way, you got Lucile Ball? That bitch was hella funny, man!”

His friend piped up then, turning with a snort. “Yo, you some closeted I love Lucy fan, homie? Nah, bro.” he admonished, shaking his head.

“Hey, Lucy and Ethel were the shit! My grandma had them on all the time when I went to stay with her, happy memories, man.”

“You’s a freak, dude.” he spoke, turning to Lily as he smiled. “I mean you ain’t, though, obviously, miss.” It was when he grinned, that the feel of her blood running cold shot through her, something in his eyes that flashed in vague recognition, turning away from her again. His teeth. A gold grill, the word ‘Rawkus’ engraved, a letter on each of his front six teeth. She saw him above her in her mind's eye, telling her she liked it. Telling her she was a dirty fucking slut. It was him.

Feeling like she was drowning, her stomach pulling, her heart thundering, she knew she had to stay calm, taking a deep breath and losing herself in the crowd, pushing through people until she got to Angel, the terror breaking across her insides like storm propelled waves.

“Baby, what is it?” he asked immediately after turning to see her fighting her way to him, her eyes wide and frightened.

“He’s... he’s over there. Guy with the blue and white plaid shirt and the white vest. Gold grills. It’s... it’s him.” She felt his entire body stiffen as he held her, looking up to see a face she’d never experienced in Angel before. Cold, deadly, murderous. He stared at EZ, who nodded, pulling out his phone. He called Bishop and relayed the information, Angel holding a quivering Lily tightly, watching the guy as he and his friend began to walk away.

“Querida, get her back to the clubhouse, get out of here now, alright?” EZ advised, thinking it good luck that Jodie had offered to drive them there so he could have a drink.

“This ends tonight, baby, alright?” Angel told Lily, lifting her chin, kissing her before trying to unravel himself. She wasn’t quick to let him go, and he hated that he had to disentangle himself when she was mid-meltdown, but he couldn’t lose him. “I have to go after him, Jodie will look after you, go on. I love you.” He quickly went into her bag and pulled out her gun, handing it to Jodie. “Ever fired one?”

“Yeah, your brother taught me well.” Jodie replied, taking the gun and concealing it in the back of her jeans as she pulled Lily into her embrace, the brothers out of there in moments, following the guys, Bishop, Coco and Hank rounding the corner and going in the same direction.

That guy. Jodie would have felt sorry for him if he wasn’t a rapist scumbag, with what he had coming for him like a raging storm.

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gyubby99 · 9 months

Text

@disneyanddisneyships

Staticfly headcanons (because i can)

Love at first fight

They HATED each other!

Vox wanted to get on Mal's good side so he can get to know aponi as well and ultimately leading himself to Alastor and knowing his weaknesses. But Mal knew something was iffy about Vox so she kept him away from her friends (this was when they were still frenemies of some sort)

Why wouldn't Mal be suspicious? VOX out of all demons was nice to her! Taking her out on hangouts as a form of "gratitude" for helping him fix his broken screen.

They had an AWFUL long way to go.

Like long. Very long.

They did not get along when they first hung out. They were bickering more than they were having fun

The only time Vox was genuine was when Val broke it off with him.

That shit HURT.

He loved Val.

But ofcourse he shows no sign of emotions.

Mal had to ask Velvette what happened

When she knew, she tried reaching out to him

Ofcourse it didn't work.

But she tried again

And again

Until Vox got fed up of her shit he was forced to spill out his guts. Vox was busying himself with work, as a way of coping.

Mal wanted him to express emotions. Atleast to her.

"What's the fucking point? It's not like my problems are going to be solved by this."

"Actually.. it is true. It's just not that big of a step. But hey, that's how people learn."

"I have no time for your sentimental bullshit."

"Yet you're listening to me, TV boy."

He just scoffs and grabs a drink.

Mal also asks for one.

The room was soundproof, for the purpose that no one hears Val abusing Vox, I guess.

So when the two got extremely wasted they cussed out Val

Mal threw up on the floor and he drunk scolded her for the next 15mins

When Vox was catcbing feelings and he knows it, he would pay attention at anything but her.

One time Mal had no place to crash in she plopped herself onto his couch and called it a night.

Vox allowed it only because she was tired.

AND Mal is his only key to Alastor's downfall

He wouldn't waste the key.

He kept repeating that in his head like a mentra the whole time Mal was sleeping and he was just.. watching from the cameras.

It took them six years to get together. Two was when they were frenemies, and four when they were genuinely friends

Poor vox had a panic attack when he caught feelings for her :(

He would never admit it to anyone but he loves her with every ounce of his being

Vox heaven AU! When he arrived in heaven he instantly spotted her in the crowd.

Mal was like "WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HEAD"

"Not a TV anymore. Remember?"

Back to hellaverse

Vox judges Mal's sense of style.

"Nuh-uh you are not wearing that garbage." *proceeds to give Mal a dress worth his house*

"Better. It brings out your eyes."

Vox pays for everything.

Mal feels bad because she has never once paid for a thing except the shark plush she gave him.

Vox looked at her deadpan. "If I didn't want to spoil you I would've stopped already. Now do you want these pair of sandals?"

Vox brings her random stuff. Like a snake plush or carmellias.

Semi-PDA couple

Their relationship was a bumpy road because of their past ones. There were times where it was sexually driven and they basically had to stop it from being too much.

One of the reasons why they were so horny on the memes/twitter au

PHYSICAL TOUCH.

He hated being soft but Mal's got insect rizz so..

Alaponi got together FIRST

The only form of "love" Vox knew was val's abuse so he had NO idea how to treat Mal at first

'Oh fuck oh fuck do we hold hands? Go out on dates? CUDDLE??'

He googled Mal's kinks

Vox is not opposed to cuddles but wouldn't cuddle her while working bc he can't have distractions.

He doesn't mind backhugs tho

or if hes in need of a stress relief

He communicates w Mal thru physical touch bc he's not good with words.

He shows Mal off to the other V's

Vox gave Mal a new phone and when she turned it on, Vox was immediately her screensaver.

He's not much for dancing but if Mal drags him to a dance floor hes dancing with her

Vox: You want me so bad, huh?

Mal: we've been dating for three years.

#mallory #staticfly

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 1 year

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Gentile. | Chapter 2

Under refreshing moonlight, you meet a charming stranger.

Chapter list

Even though the residence is fully furnished by noon, a new wave of servants floods the premises in preparation for your husband’s festivities. Quintus is straightforward with his instructions towards the staff and equally as harsh, setting high standards for the wine, the bread, the fruits that he’ll serve to his guests.

His business allows you some time for yourself, and even though you would rather explore the fishing village to see what it can offer you, you remain inside your room, where your furniture has already been shifted into the position you wanted it, and you sit at your desk to scribble some thoughts into your journal.

You miss Rome. Even though it is less than a week since you left, it has already appeared in your dreams.

You haven’t necessarily left behind a very social life back at the Peninsula Italia, a few friends at best, but you miss the idea of being able to visit your family.

To be more specific, you carry that sentiment towards your siblings and not so much your parents, who had been the ones to arrange your marriage to Quintus. Your father, a high-ranked general, had not second-guessed the decision to give your hand to a powerful Praetor like the man you call your husband, no matter the fact that you don’t muster an ounce of affection to the man in question.

Your two older brothers and younger sister are the ones you’d rather see again, especially your oldest sibling, who is expecting his second daughter by the time winter rolls around. Correspondence through post will have to do, and so, you find yourself finalising the outline of your letter to him, asking about the wellbeing of his wife and other child.

“Are you not yet dressed?” Quintus bites from the doorframe, already wearing his festive tunic, adorned with golden jewellery. Ink bleeds through the parchment as you startle at his sudden voice and the malice laced therein, and you grit your teeth.

“Not yet,” you explain, “I’ll finish my letter to Lucius and then I’ll—”

“The first guests will be arriving shortly,” Quintus cuts you off, adjusting the rings around his fingers. “I expect you downstairs in ten minutes. Don’t dally on the task, (Y/n).”

You know better than to speak up, and thus, you sigh and slide out of your seat to don something more luxurious.

It is a stola you received from Quintus a few days after your betrothal, a fine olive linen with a large golden hem in patterns you could never even dream of replicating with your limited skill when it comes to embroidery. It fits you like a glove and goes surprisingly well with a lighter green tunic as well as a golden-coloured sash, and you finish it with a decorated cloak to cover up your shoulders. With a few golden ornaments, a pair of simple sandals and a dab of perfume under your ears, you’re ready to head downstairs.

You don’t quite feel like yourself when you step down into the lounge area, where several guests have already gathered. Quintus spots you, smiles, holds out a hand to beckon you closer.

“There she is,” he announces, and you feel the eyes of four men sting into every inch of bare skin, “My beautiful wife.” A treasure nobody else could have, you bitterly think, a piece of sugar on his arm. Even now, under the guise of a casual conversation, you feel objectified, an impostor in your own home.

You curtsy at the men, who introduce themselves as the main captains of Capernaum. They have names you forget the second they say them. All you can pay attention to is the way Quintus’ hand rests on the small of your back, searing through the layers of clothing, like a hot iron burning into your skin.

The cup of wine one servant offers you is more than welcome. You nurse the high-end drink, despite the sudden urge to knock it back all in one go and ask for another.

“How is Capernaum treating you so far?” one of the men quizzes, and you give a polite smile.

“It’s a very nice and quaint village.”

They chuckle, Quintus loudest of them all, and you feel belittled at once.

“Nice and quaint she says, ha! Wait until she meets the people.”

You hid behind your cup, embarrassed, gulping back its contents in one gulp.

“Dearest, why don’t you go say hello to their wives. They’re in the kitchen, gossiping.”

Despite you not being one to appreciate any talk of the sort, you are glad to leave Quintus’ side for a bit, and so, you wordlessly make your way over to the aforementioned place.

“That’s too much salt!” is the first thing you hear upon your entrance, and you halt in your step to witness a woman with red curls jab a finger at one of the slaves, who looks at her quite shaken.

“What’s going on?” you intervene, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “Is there something wrong?”

“Who are you, then?”

Once again scrutinised, you hug your cloak a little tighter around yourself. “(Y/n), I’m Quintus' wife.”

The scowl on the redhead’s face is immediately replaced by a sickly sweet smile, and she slides over to you to greet you properly. “Ah, the lady of the house!”

Another woman clears her throat and introduces herself with greater friendliness. “My name is Ceclia. Don’t mind Livinia’s attitude, she just wants to make sure that things are going well around here. After all, you’ve paid good money for these squashes, no? If that peasant ruins them, whatever will we have for supper?” Never mind, you think to yourself, appalled by her equally repelling words.

“As the woman of the house, I implore you to not meddle,” you daresay, confidence seeping through in your voice in an attempt to stick up for the unsettled slave girl stirring a handful of basil into the soup. Her hands are still trembling. “I’ve got things covered.”

The woman named Livinia scoffs though soon straightens her back, fluttering her lashes at you. “Say, since you’re new around here, why don’t we gossip a little about our husbands?”

“I’m not sure if Quintus would applaud such topics of conversation.” you state.

Cecilia rolls her eyes. “Oh, you’re one of those kinds of wives… The kind to think of her husband so highly that she refuses to speak ill of him, or that she fears the strike of his hand.”

You swallow thickly - it was true that Quintus hit you on occasion - but it was simply not in your character to talk with the intent of besmirching someone’s image, no matter how much you despised the man.

The residence suddenly feels like it is suffocating you, heat creeping up on your cheeks. You are struck with a sudden need to cool down a bit.

“I am nothing of the sort.” you tell her frankly, “Now, I must excuse myself. Enjoy your evening.”

Before you can be stopped, you rush out of the kitchen, beelining for the door that leads towards the back of the house, a porch looking out over the Sea of Galilee. A few vessels float on the water, where most have already pulled their barges onto the shore in preparation for Shabbat.

The cool night air fills your lungs, eliciting a satisfied sigh from you. Inhaling deeply, you lean your hands on the balcony, wondering if you should head down to take a stroll down to dip your feet in the water.

“Enjoying yourself?”

An unfamiliar voice behind you makes you jump out of your own skin. Startled, you bounce back, hand on your chest as you turn to the source of the noise. In the shadows, a figure leans against the wall, a cloak shielding him from the cold.

“Who are you?”

The stranger steps forward, now illuminated by moon and lamplight streaming from the windows of the residence. Revealed to you is a man of slightly rugged demeanour, with dark hair and light stubble on his chin, but attractive nevertheless, and despite the fact that your heart is hammering in your chest already, it skips a beat or two.

“Aren’t you Quintus’ wife? He seems really concerned about you, seeing that he hasn’t come out to check up on you yet.”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, wrapping your dress a little tighter around your shoulders. “What’s it to you? I don’t know you.”

He chuckles, a sound that makes you positively warm inside at the sincerity thereof, and he moves his cloak a little out of the way, showing a sliver of brown leather etched on with golden letters spelling SPQR. Cohortes Urbanae , you immediately realise.

“Name’s Atticus Aemilius Pulcher,” he introduces himself, “Private investigator, if you will.”

“I know what Cohortes Urbanae are,” you tell him.

A charming smile tugs at his lips. You find yourself unable to look away.

“Good,” he says. He pops a walnut into his mouth and looks at you curiously. “What’s your name?”

Taken aback by both his nerve and his allure, you take in a sharp breath. “(Y/n),” you say, “I don’t think my husband invited you.”

“I don’t think Quintus even knows of my presence.”

Atticus pries something out of his teeth with his tongue and chews a few times before lifting another to eat it, and he frowns. “You haven’t answered my question yet,” he mentions, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

You sniff, eyeing him up and down, still suspicious of his sudden appearance. He is wearing a dark blue cloak with a large, decorative agate disc, as well as a round pendant around his neck. “What are you doing here?”

“Figuring out what kind of new Praetor has blessed Capernaum with his presence.”

“A strong one.” There is doubt in your voice and he picks up on it. Reaching out, he offers you a walnut, but you refuse.

Atticus steps closer, and just now, you notice the warmth of his eyes. Your throat runs dry when he smiles a little, amused. The dark curls on his head look soft to the touch.

“Just that?”

“Violent.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” you clarify, “He’ll sort things out around here.”

Atticus raises an eyebrow. “And you, (Y/n),” he breathes, voice pleasantly low, “Are you a violent type?”

You don’t trust your voice, so you shake your head instead, and another laugh falls from his lips.

“I thought so.”

A bit shy, you look away towards the lake in front of you, moonlight dancing on the rippling water, disturbed by gentle wind. Atticus stands next to you, mirrors your position of resting your hands on the railing, and silence falls over you. He looks up at the expanse of the star-speckled sky and sighs.

“... The sun may come up each day but when our star is out… Our night, it shall last forever and give me a thousand kisses and a hundred more… ”

You look at him in surprise, your lips slightly ajar at his words. “Catallus.” you breathe, “Addressed to his married lover going by the pseudonym of Lesbia.”

Now it is Atticus’ turn to be astonished, and he looks at you with a smile you can’t quite place, one that turns your stomach into mush, much to your puzzlement. “How did you know?” he queries.

“I’ve got a few of his works upstairs in my sitting room.” you admit.

He hums with a gentle glitter in his eyes and you have to prevent yourself from squirming. Why were you responding so oddly towards him?

“You don’t strike me like the type of person to enjoy literature, Cohortes. Especially not poetry.”

An amused sound leaves him and he chews another walnut before answering to your remark. “I am not constantly working, ma’am.”

Smiling, you look at him from the corner of your eye. “Sure you aren’t. How can I be sure that you are not here on official Roman business in order to spy on my husband?”

“Perhaps I am.” he muses, smirking.

“Slacking off, then?” you jest. “That doesn’t really suit a Cohortes' reputation.”

Atticus polishes off the rest of his walnuts, dark eyes shimmering with playfulness, “Call it taking a break by talking to a slightly distressed yet very beautiful woman.”

Your heart drops . Are your ears deceiving you? With a sudden bright blush on your cheeks, growing pinker with the second, you gawk at him. Atticus chuckles at your response, not breaking eye contact.

Quintus' voice from inside the house draws you out of your shocked state and Atticus steps away, smiling. “Sounds like that’s my cue. I’ll see you around, my lady. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“(Y/n)?!” Quintus hiccups from somewhere in the distance. Light streams over your face when he opens the door to the porch, leaning against the doorframe to prevent himself from toppling over. “Ah, there you are!” His voice was thick with the fruits of intoxication. “Who are you talking to?”

You turn to seek out Atticus, opening your mouth to introduce said man to your husband, but find the spot next to you empty. Looking around, you see no sign of the Cohortes, confusion settling deeply in the pit of your stomach alongside something else, something exciting .

“No one, apparently,” you mutter. Quintus, too drunk to process your comment, stumbles back inside, calling you to come inside soon.

The night air does not feel cold anymore when you find yourself completely alone, utterly puzzled and flustered from your chance encounter, and you stand there for what feels like an hour before you finally head into the residence again, knowing that sleep would likely not come.

Next chapterChapter list

#the chosen #the chosen x reader #atticus x you #atticus x reader #atticus aemilius pulcher #x reader #reader insert #chosen fanfiction #chosen x reader #quintus x reader #quintus x you #quintus #romance #slow burn

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bookwyrminspiration · 1 year

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What kind of prom outfits do you think each of the Councillors would wear (also imagine that Foxfire has a prom type dance for the elite levels and the younger levels and since Foxfire is a noble school the council got stuck chaperoning the level 1-6s because they signed up on accident for the lower levels instead of the elite level chaperoning)

Oo that's an interesting thought! I hope the council has fun in their chaperoning :), they probably could pull rank and switch out, but I'm going to assume where they were chaperoning has already been shared and backing out would reflect poorly on them

I'm answering this assuming it's an elven prom, and that the council are all adult chaperones (as opposed to what they wore at their prom), and also not super acquainted with them so! if you have a different suggestion feel free

Alina: The most extravagant ballgown you've ever seen. No one understands how she can move in the thing, or how she's not swallowed whole. Huge skirt, so many jewels

Bronte: He doesn't dress up, he wears the same thing he does every day and scowls about the situation in a corner. Wants desperately to leave.

Clarette: Simple but chic. No layers or folds or ruffles, but perhaps a slit on one side. She doesn't want the excess fabric to get in the way. Nice accent jewelry to complement the simplicity.

Darek: He's got a typical suit situation going on. Likes to keep it simple so his outfits don't get in the way of his phasing. I don't know what color, though. Black? Tan? I just don't think he stands out

Emery: Dark suit-like ensemble, maybe in navy? I almost said green but that's the mourning color. He doesn't want to stand out, but wants to look professional. Nice embroidery on the cuffs and such

Liora: Incredibly flowy, bright colors. Patterns look good on her and she takes advantage of it. I don't know why but I feel like she'd wear sandals? Or at least very strappy shoes/heels?

Noland: The clothes themselves are simple, but he's got loud patterns that stand out, bright colors. Even so, he still spends most of his night away from everyone else.

Oralie: I'm thinkin something tulle, something that twirls. Off the shoulder effortless style, you know? Of course it's in pink. Like this

Ramira: Something fitted, perhaps? Not skin-tight necessarily, but closer to that. Maybe a nice silver to blend in more and avoid attention, but I could also see a golden tone working really well for her. Looser bracelets/necklaces to offset the tightness of the outfit?

Terik: I think he'd be comfortable going a little more casual, so not a full out suit, but just dressed up a little. Fancier embroidery on his jerkin, a nicer pair of pants. Perhaps a fancier cane, too?

Velia: Fitted towards the top, flows at the bottom. Dark coloring. Makes it look like she's floating wherever she goes, mysterious vibe to her. A statement necklace.

Zarina: Whatever it it's, it's made of that satin-like off-white cream fabric that looks super smooth and shiny, almost reflective. Maybe with a gradient to a light blue. Feel like she'd have fancy sleeves, but nothing delicate. Everything is sturdy and durable

These are just ideas off the top of my head based on what I have to work with (which isn't much), so don't take these too seriously! There's some reasoning to them, but not a lot! it's also pretty canon typical, but if you like headcanons feel free!

#kotlc #kotlc council #quil's queries #nonsie #i been trying to familiarize myself with the council as they are in canon before I think about headcanons #if I ever do. i'm not a headcanon person #but in the process of trying to understand their characters (so I can write them) I think I might've just given clarette autism #i just think she's neat #long post

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snowmaniaph · 1 year

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Watanabe Shota x Miyadate Ryota

"Honestly, I am really dyed in Date-sama’s color... saying this makes me sound like a stalker." - Watanabe Shota

Miyadate: For this time, it seems like there were requests like “I want to see Yurigumi’s talk in Weekly TV Guide once a year” that’s why we have this pairing!

Watanabe: “Once a year”... but you actually want to see us more, right (laughs)?

Miyadate: But I feel like we’re doing it more (laughs).

Watanabe: First, regarding “This is LOVE”, the song I chose for the album; what do you mean that there are some fans who think “They are singing about Yurigumi”?

Watanabe & Miyadate: Ahahaha!

Miyadate: That’s such a terrific idea.

Watanabe: What leads them to think that!? Did they think that because there was a line like “Fate that surpasses coincidence and inevitability”? Well, there is certainly a line like that... that’s such a strained interpretation (laughs). Everyone’s fantasizing too much!

Miyadate: But everyone’s free to think whatever.

Watanabe: Tha- that’s right.

Miyadate: We are here to make everyone fantasize about us.

Watanabe: You’re right. That’s why I will not... it will be weird if I say that I don’t deny it (laughs), but you are free to use that interpretation!

Miyadate: Yes (laughs).

Watanabe: By the way, how are you lately?

Miyadate: I wonder how I am lately.

Watanabe: Aren’t you really active in “Love It!”? I watch the show a lot. There are times when I can’t watch it from the start but my body has been set to wake up at the time the show would be on air; I wake up at that time even during my days off!

Miyadate: Ahaha, thank you very much. On the other hand, what are you doing lately (Watanabe) Shota? We don’t talk about these things so lately he has become someone whose private life is a mystery.

Watanabe: No, look, this is serious but lately I’ve always been feeling sluggish. And then, when I feel like I have to look stylish I look at Date-sama (Miyadate Ryota) because I think he always wears really stylish clothes. I get influenced by that, ano~... I go to another branch of the store you probably frequent, and I buy something different after hearing about Date-sama’s purchase history from the store personnel.

Miyadate: Ahahaha!

Watanabe: Because you have a really elegant style! You’re always dressed up like a mannequin from head to toe that’s why I’ve always thought “That’s nice~”. But I’ll feel sorry if we’re entirely matching so I try on the clothes that the store personnel tells me “Miyadate-san hasn’t bought this”, and often buy them (laughs). Even the sandals I introduced in the show “Sakurai and Ariyoshi THE Yakai” the other day, I was just copying Ryota, who liked the brand first.

Miyadate: Purchasing history... I knew about it.

Watanabe: Fuhahaha! You knew!? I was thinking it was really about time for me to let you know “I’ve actually been consistently buying clothes” and officially ask for your approval.

Miyadate: No, I already knew (laughs). This is really embarrassing!

Watanabe: No, it’s like this, okay? Of course, in reality, you shouldn’t be showing a person’s purchase history to another person! But on top of the store personnel knew we were members of the same group, they don’t show me a list of what you’ve bought but tell it to me orally “He hasn’t bought these yet”.

Miyadate: But I’ve already said to the shop to not have a record of my purchase history.

Watanabe: ... Really? Then, are we already in an unknown territory?

Miyadate: Un. I mean I already bought everything for this season.

Watanabe: Eh, amazing.

Miyadate: That’s why there’s a possibility that we will have a pair look!

Watanabe: Are you serious. But don’t worry, I only wear those clothes in private. I won’t come to work in them. I also feel sorry that you have to be conscious of it. Eh? Youtube? No, no, I definitely won’t come to a Youtube shoot wearing the same clothes, okay?

Miyadate: You know... we’re already 30 years old?!

Watanabe: Yes, yes. And it’s the part I like about Date-sama after all. I simply think that “As expected, my mood also improves when I’m more stylish.”, and am just imitating a style that I admire without asking the person. Also, if I make the mistake of going to the workplace wearing clothes I copied from you, then the members and the fans would probably make fun of me.

Miyadate: Something like that, everyone would eat that up!

Watanabe: That’s really true (laughs).

Miyadate: Well, anyone has clothes they like. I also have clothes that changed my life.

Watanabe: Oh, ooh something magnificent? But I understand! This person has getups that really make me want to have them myself. Doesn’t everyone have a time when they got curious and thought “Where did this person buy the clothes they’re wearing?”. I am like that.

Miyadate: I also like Shota’s lifestyle. I’m the type to quickly collect stuff I like so the house has quite a number of things but, according to what I heard, Shota doesn’t leave things around in his house, and things are arranged simply. I think that the part of him that gets absorbed in one thing he “likes” is good.

Watanabe: That’s right, I properly declutter. That’s why the clothes I bought to copy Date-sama increased. In exchange, I threw away the clothes I already don’t wear. Honestly, I am really dyed in Date-sama’s color. ... Saying this makes me sound like a stalker.

Miyadate: Ahahahaha!

Watanabe: I might be unable to tell my purchase history in the future, so I’ll be careful (laughs).

#snowman #snow man #miyadate ryota #ryota miyadate #watanabe shota #shota watanabe #yurigumi #translations #johnnys

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regallibellbright · 1 year

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[ID: Five pictures of a crocheted amigurumi doll of Namine from Kingdom Hearts. The first shows her full body. The second shows a closeup of her face, while the third and fourth show embroidered and crocheted four-pointed stars on the straps of her sandals. The fifth shows her sitting on a bookcase next to matching dolls of Lea and Xion, in their outfits from the ending sequence of Kingdom Hearts 3. End ID]

All right, I like doing full writeups, so even though I detailed a lot of how I made Namine already, I wanted to put it all in one place and include some detail shots I took. I'd decided back at the start of this project somewhere between February 2019 and summer 2020 that I wanted to make a doll of Namine as part of the set, which is why my standard tag is "Twilight Town Amigurumi" instead of something ice cream-related. I didn't think too much about when I would do her - Roxas's difficulty intimidated me, so he'd be towards the end, Xion I knew would be first because she's my absolute favorite (by which I mean, I made her IMMEDIATELY after we finished 3 and planned the rest after,) and Isa would go last because I don't have as strong feelings about him, but Lea and Namine were both sort of nebulous timing-wise.* Well, I ended up doing Lea second, and then I got tendonitis for the next two years and couldn't crochet nearly as much as I had before. But I wanted and fully intended to get back to this project eventually. And finally, last year, the time felt right. Semi-technical details under the cut!

* Sorry to Hayner, Pence, and Olette, but I only have so much space and these dolls take MONTHS to make since I'm doing their patterns from scratch, so I have to feel REALLY strongly about a character or their design to commit to it. Honestly I'm probably going to do some other stuff between Roxas and Isa just for variety.

I completely understand the desire for Namine to have a new outfit that's not a very simple sundress which she's been wearing since 2004, but also, this was very fortunate to me specifically, getting back into the swing of things. Her design is so simple that I could get used to making things again and then decide to get more complex as I went - her sandals, for example, were originally flat, before deciding midway through that no, heels would be doable, and I wanted the challenge. I completed one version of her hair entirely before getting a better idea that I wanted to test out before trying on Roxas and his VERY nice yarn. I knew going in that they'd be the hardest parts - the only question with her dress was how I'd attach it, really - so I let myself do a lot more experimenting as I felt up to it.

Both of those also include a LOT of sewing. For her sandals, for example, the sole of the shoe is actually the base of her foot, with a color change after the first few rounds done in back loops only. Once the legs were done, I added a border around the front loops to cover that they're all one piece, and that ended up being my attachment point for the three straps, each of which had its own yarn ends to weave in at the end. Plus two more for the heel, attached via the same method and surface crochet. And THEN, finally, you get to the stars. The crocheted pair were made with a very small hook and embroidery floss, and then the same embroidery floss was used to make the embroidered stars on the straps.

Her hair's made up of something like eight different sections sewn overtop a circular yellow "cap" sewn to her head. Each of the long sections (the one behind her back and the one over her shoulder) is its own distinct piece, and then the three central strands of her bangs are another, but virtually everything else is a separate piece from the others. It was a lot of work to make and even more to assemble, but I'm glad I did - it looks fantastic, with much more depth and messiness than it would have as a single piece, and I'm going to be using the same strategy for Roxas's spikes not too far down the line. Good to know it works. Also, in the process I picked up half-treble and treble crochet firmly.

I'd noticed some oddities when I was making her body and legs with how many rounds things were taking relative to the old notes I'd taken on the first two dolls, and the shape of Namine's shoulders in particular, but I figured it was a side effect of me taking VERY makeshift notes on Xion (as I hadn't planned on setting the project aside for two years and had only vaguely planned on making other dolls at all) and Lea's proportions being a bit taller and thinner. It wasn't until I tried to make ears, followed the pattern exactly, and realized they didn't look right that I realized what had happened - I'd been making Namine on a 4 mm hook, when the past two dolls were made on a 3.5, and this difference in gauge changed the size and shaping by extension. This made for a little trouble with the dress - what I'd planned for a more rounded body was trickier with the teardrop-shaped body I had. Fortunately, this proved to be a fairly easy adjustment in the end. Were I not telling people on the internet, no one would know that that dress gets wider a few rows in, and then widens again towards the bottom.

The dress is also where one of the coolest ideas I had paid off, and where the only real idea I had for detailing didn't quite work. I'd vaguely been hoping I could do picots to add further scalloping to the shell stitches at the bottom, which didn't work at the scale I was doing given it would be my first time trying picot. In the end, looking at it, it wouldn't have gotten me the proper shape, either, so I skipped that one.

On the other hand, I'd had a couple ideas from the start about how simple that dress is, and wondered if I couldn't attach the main part AFTER I'd sewn her arms on, and then use the straps so I wouldn't have to sew the dress to her. (For those reading a "how the sausage gets made" post who don't crochet, most amigurumi - the others included - have the clothes on the body attached before attaching the arms and any sleeves overtop, rather than having to account for armholes and the like.) What I ended up doing wasn't QUITE the same, but it was very close - I essentially sewed it partway so I could get her into it, since the top is narrower than the lower portion of her body, then sewed her in the rest of the way and the width difference kept the dress on. Then I made the first strap over her shoulder the same way I had for the sandals, crocheted across her back because the back of her dress is higher in-game than the front (look this thing's so simple that even the seam placement is a detail,) and did the same process with the other.

This took an oddly large amount of trial and error, but it was late when I realized I could be done if I could get the straps tonight, and things like "how many stitches will it take to go from the front of her body to her back" are always a little bit guesswork. In short, despite being a simple-loooking design, there's a surprising amount of work that went into this particular doll. But I'm happy with the end result, and realized the scaling issue just in time to account for it in her arm length and ears - while she's still a bit larger than Xion and Lea on the whole, it's not so noticeable that's unintentional.

As is standard for this group, she has a wire skeleton in her legs, arms, and up and down the back of her torso, in an attempt to make her head a bit less floppy with that hair weighing down a pretty flimsy neck. In the end, that's reasonably successful, and she can sit up with her arms pushed back same as the others without being propped up further. (Their heads are just the nature of the beast, especially with hair like that.) She also has eyebrows, though they're hard to see under the bangs, made of two shades of light yellow embroidery floss to approximate her hair color. It looks good, for all that it's a minor detail that doesn't photograph well.

In all, I'm super happy with how she did. Going to finish my first knitting project (I'm currently trying to figure out purl stitch) before moving on to the one they've all been waiting for for quite some time.

The good news is, changing my phone background today for reference material, I officially feel I have Ideas for how I'm going to do Roxas. I'm still going to be nervous doing some of the detailing - it's going to be tricky ensuring those checkerboard patterns show up at the scale I'll be working at - but while he's going to be a VERY intensive project, I now feel pretty ready to take him on. SOON.

#long post #crafting with Regalli #Twilight town amigurumi #Twilight Town Amigurumi: Namine edition #last post for that tag!#at least until and unless she gets a new outfit I suppose

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