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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

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Still Pretty

Sirius Black x fem!reader

[1K] drunk sirius, something cute and fluffy that I stopped too soon ‘cause toothache got to me sorry

Sirius was wearing half the clothes he’d left with by the time you walked into the Potter’s home.

He was lazing on the couch, half on Remus, dark hair a mess, white shirt rumpled and sleeves rolled to his elbows, three - no four - buttons undone, tie lost, sweater missing. The party had long wrapped up, the usual suspects left with the music low, butterbeer and firewhiskey bottles almost empty.

Lily had called, sounding too relieved when you answered, not long home from work. She’d murmured a soft apology, hoping you weren’t too tired, but your boyfriend was taking up residency on her couch and her own husband was only encouraging it.

You’d laughed, fond and knowing, telling her you’d be over soon to collect what was yours. So you fed your cat, scratching him behind his black fur ears as he curled around your legs in thanks, leaving the living room lights on low for your return. You switched out your work shirt for a sweater Sirius had left at yours, a faded thing that was once black but always soft, shoving your feet into some tennis shoes and setting off to the Potter’s.

You didn’t knock, didn’t have to, walking into the familiar house that smelled like pumpkin spice and honey. You found your friends in the living room, sprawled over loveseats and armchairs, talking quietly, laughing loudly. Remus smiled lazily when he saw you, tapping at Sirius’ legs which were slung over his lap. Lily waved from the armchair she was squished beside James on, her husband half asleep with his head on her chest.

“Pads,” Remus whispered, “your taxi is here.”

Disgruntled, Sirius slapped blindly at his friend, his head hanging off of the couch, hair wild, silver earring dangling against his temple. He was all flushed, pink and tipsy, eyes closed and lashes fanning over cheeks. “Fuck off,” Sirius moaned, sleepy sounding. “M’staying here. This is my bed.” He slapped the couch cushions, indignant. “You’re in my bed, Remus.”

Lily rolled her eyes and Remus tried not to laugh as you crept over, bending to smooth your hand over your boyfriend’s forehead, brushing back the stray hairs that were curling over his eyes, around his temples. He grinned before you could even speak.

“Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” You mused softly, voice teasing.

Sirius’ eyes opened, dark as always, warm with butterbeer and wine, warmer from seeing you. They crinkled in the corners, sticky sweet. “Hi, darling.”

“Hi, pretty boy,” you murmured back, smiling when Sirius lifted his head, neck craning to bump his nose against your cheek, kissing you a little off kilter, clumsy but sweet. You hummed, pleased with his affection, even if Remus pretended to gag from beside you both. “Would you like to come to my bed instead?”

Sirius gasped, scandalised, eyes wide and flashing dangerously at you. His grin was wolfish. “Christ woman, are you flirting with me?” He leaned up again, pushing a kiss to your jawline, snickering into your skin when Remus finally shoved him off.

“I’ll flirt with you more if you let poor Lily get to her bed,” you reasoned, helping the boy right himself on the couch, carding your fingers through his hair, smiling when he caught your palm and pressed a kiss there too.

“You’re both awful,” Remus mused, standing and stretching, readying himself to leave too. He was full of affection as he said it, bending to press his own kisses to your and Sirius’ heads, doing the same to Lily and a sleeping James before he slipped out the door.

“I’m not awful,” Sirius responded a beat too late, frowning at the closed door. “M’the best. Aren’t I, darling?”

You snorted, nodding placatingly as you dragged Sirius from the sofa, groaning as you tried your best to heave all his long limbs up from the cushions. He finally stood, heavy boots keeping him rooted to the spot despite the way he swayed a little, his wide hands warm on your waist, silver rings glinting in the candlelight.

He smiled down at you, sleepy and soft, a little lovesick and it made your heart jump in your chest. He was too pretty, full lips, dark features, strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, wild hair.

“Nice sweater,” he hummed, voice dropping to a level you recognised all too well. Low, raspy, too warm. “Suits you.”

You burned under his attention, forehead butting against his chest as you ducked away from his heavy gaze, murmuring a quiet warning into the bare strip of skin between his open buttons. “Sirius, behave.”

He didn’t. He never did.

Sirius misbehaved all the way home, hands sneaking around your waist mid walk, catching you just to bring you against his chest to tell you how pretty you looked, how nice you smelled, how much better his shirt looked on you than him - but wouldn’t it look even better on the bedroom floor?

“You’re drunk,” you told him, pleased with his attempt at flirting all the same, flushed and flustered, ‘cause even after years, Sirius Black knew how to make you weak in the knees.

He hummed, kiss over your neck and the skin he made appear on your shoulder, greedy hands tugging at your collar. “That I am,” he agreed. He swayed a little again, a hiccup leaving his lips as you unlocked your front door. “But you’re pretty. And when I’m hungover and suffering in the morning, you’ll still be pretty.”

#sirius black #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black one shot #sirius black blurb #sirius black fic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fluff #the marauders x reader #the marauders

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midgardian-witch · 9 months

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i saw you made a moon knight fic based off an ethel cain song, and i was wondering if you could make one based off her song michelle pfeiffer idk it just screams moon boys to me 😻🫶🏽🫶🏽 i’m so sorry for bothering you with this i just HADDD to ask

have a lovely day and don’t overwork yourself 🫶🏽

You are absolutely not bothering me with this! Thank you so much for your kind message and your request 💙 I really hope you like this drabble and that you're having a lovely day yourself ☺️

Home's Not Home Unless You're There

ships: Moon Knight System/Reader

AO3

Marc was the one that started it all.

One morning you woke up and he was gone; bags packed, wardrobe and bookshelves cleaned out. He even took his toothbrush with him. He had left you with only the memories of your time together, nothing else.

He took one last look at your half-naked, sleeping form and then left. He turned into a ghost, laying low, not moving too far away but always just out of reach. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this after all.

It was for the best - or so he told himself.

Marc knew that if he would have stuck around longer, he would drag you both down (and with his luck ‘down’ meant 6 feet under). He didn’t deserve you. Everything he touched turned to ash and he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you too.

He couldn’t hurt you if he was gone.

So what if he spends endless nights alone, drowning his sorrows in booze (just like his mother; she’d laugh at him, tell him what a pathetic, selfish boy he was - if she was still alive) and thinks about all the different ways he could crawl back to you?

He won’t. He can’t. If he did all of this was for nothing.

In that space between tipsy and blackout drunk he wonders if maybe he is addicted to suffering. If it was just another fucked up part of his brain that needed to feel pain to live, or maybe it was his heart? Why else does he keep running away?

When those thoughts start he just cracks open another bottle.

Steven was the one that suffered the loudest.

When he woke up in the morning, having to deal with another of Marc's hangovers, he felt like crying.

He missed you. Everything around him reminded him of you and your absence in his life.

Marc got them a new flat and even here Steven saw you in everything; everything conjuring a memory of you together. They lived here now but it wasn’t their home. It could never be their home if you're not there with them.

He wants to call you but Marc deleted your number. He wants to go and see you, apologize for what happened and fall back into your arms but everytime he tries he blacks out, loses time again and finds himself back at their new flat. He wants to scream at Marc, beg and reason with him, make him see that this was all a mistake, that they need you in their life but everytime Marc hides in the darkest corners of their headspace.

He feels more lost than he did when he first found out about Marc and Jake. He feels alone, so utterly alone even when Jake tries to reassure him that they will be alright, that things will get better.

Without you there he doesn’t believe any of it.

Jake was the one to end it.

Jake had been patient. He waited for Marc to see reason but instead he watched his brother hurt himself more and more until all that was left was a heartbroken, sad shell of a man. He watched Steven rage against Marc’s decisions until he couldn’t anymore, until even he was a burned out husk of his former self.

He was their protector and he had been idle for too long.

And he missed you. Even inside the headspace all he could think about was the sound of your voice, of your laugh, the feeling of your skin and lips on his, the way you smell in the morning after a long night of lovemaking.

Did you think about them too? Did you hate them? Did you miss them the same way they missed you?

He was tired of wondering, tired of watching his brothers fall apart when there was a simple solution to their suffering.

So when his brothers were sound asleep Jake took over. With a clear goal in mind he got into his car and made his way to you. He drove like a man possessed until he reached the familiar building. It was late, the sun had already fled the sky hours ago. For a moment he worried he would wake you, or worse, that you would not be there. To his relief there was light in your window.

An old neighbor let him into the building, recognizing his face. He thanked them with a smile before continuing on his path. When he finally reached the door to your flat, his hands were shaking - all his calm gone just by the thought of seeing you again.

Before he can overthink his plan he knocks on the door. He can hear your footsteps, and even something so trivial is making his heart ache. But nothing prepared him for the way his heart stops beating for a second when he sees you again as you open the door.

You look like you hadn’t slept in weeks, like you had been crying every day since they had left - and yet you had never looked more beautiful.

Your eyes widen in shock and disbelief. He takes a step forward, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I am so sorry, mi vida. We are sorry. Can you forgive us?”

He can’t hear your reply, muffled as it is as you all but tackle him with your embrace, your face buried in his shirt. Your fists pound against his chest with no energy behind them. You’re angry, frustrated, but most of all relieved.

They are back. And they won’t leave again.

The four of you had a lot to talk about: worries, feelings, fears. There are so many questions unanswered but that was for later.

All he knows is this: You will get through this; you’ll survive whatever comes together. Because they are finally home now.

#moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight system x reader #moon knight/reader #marc spector/reader #steven grant/reader #jake lockley/reader #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #fran-writes

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alicntsdnce · 10 months

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“She'd laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.”

SIX OF CROWS, Chapter 38 SHADOW AND BONE ━ 1.08, “No Mourners”

#sabedit #socedit #kanejdaily #tusererika #userbecca #inejghafaedit #kazbrekkeredit #shadowandbonecentral #usergreta #usermarsy #userstarfall #ceremonial #tvedit #bysarah #theyre everything to me #has stayed on drafts for far too long now

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bellaxgiornata · 11 months

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Falling For the Devil [Part seventy-four: "The Boy's Night at Josie's"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt and Foggy celebrate a win at Josie’s, though their celebration for the firm quickly turns to the pair celebrating something else.

Or You finally meet Drunk Matt.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.8k

a/n: One of my favorite installments! You get sweet Matt and some saucy, flirty drunk Matt in this one! You can find the entire list of installments available on tumblr here. And if you're enjoying this series, I always appreciate the feedback! Only four more installments left for me to transfer over from AO3 until tumblr is all caught up!

“Oh my God , you should have seen Cantrell’s face during your closing argument!” Foggy gushed excitedly, slapping his hands onto the table. “You could see the exact moment she knew she’d lost the jury. It was like the light just– poof –went right out of her eyes, man!”

Matt chuckled as he nodded, drawing the bottle of beer to his lips for a drink. “Ahh, well. I can certainly envision it with your descriptions.” He paused, taking a pull off the bottle and swallowing the beer down. “You’ve been giving me quite the detailed breakdown about it since we sat down about ten minutes ago.”

“Sorry man, you’re right,” Foggy relented, picking up his own bottle of beer and drawing it to his mouth. “I just got really excited. That was a huge win and it felt damn good.”

“That it did, Fog,” Matt agreed.

Foggy swallowed his drink before shifting in his seat, leaning his elbows onto the table. “I just wish Karen could have come out to celebrate with us tonight,” he said softly. “Feels weird with her not being here after a big win.”

“Well you know she had a date, right?” Matt pointed out.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered. “And I’m happy for her. She seems to like that guy. It just feels weird without her at Josie’s, you know?” he said with a shrug.

“Is Marci coming out?” Matt asked.

Foggy shook his head as he sighed. “Nah, she’s got her own big case coming up. Said she wanted to run over a few notes tonight before she went to bed. What about your girl? She coming out?”

Matt couldn’t help the wide smile that slid across his face as he focused on the table, his fingers drumming along his beer bottle. His girl. God he loved the sound of that. It never got old hearing Foggy call you that.

“No,” he answered. “She was finishing getting something ready for work for later next week with a co-worker.”

“The one who’s obsessed with your ass?” Foggy questioned.

Matt nodded, laughing lightly. “Yeah, that’d be the one,” he replied.

“Huh,” Foggy said. “Guess it’s a boy’s night. Just you and I. We haven’t had one of those in awhile.”

Matt grinned at Foggy beside him. “I don’t think we’ve called it that since college, Fog,” he told him.

“Oh, well, if you want to have one of those nights,” Foggy replied, his tone turning a little mischievous, “we might need to drink a little more. Maybe do some shots.” He reached out, lightly slapping Matt’s arm. “What do you say, buddy?”

Matt paused, giving it some thought. You were supposed to be staying over at his place tonight but you still had that spare key to let yourself in. And you already knew he was coming home later after having drinks with Foggy. He ran a hand over his mouth, contemplating if you’d mind him coming back a bit later being slightly more buzzed than usual. You probably wouldn’t, just as long as he didn’t let Fog go too crazy with the shots.

“Alright,” Matt conceded, though he quickly cut off Foggy’s excited cheer to add, “but I’m not getting drunk tonight.”

Matt could feel the playful grin Foggy was shooting him from across the table. After a moment he relented, unable to fight the smile on his face in return.

“The future Mrs. Murdock staying over tonight?” Foggy asked curiously.

“She is, yes,” Matt said. “She’s still got–”

“AH HA !” Foggy exclaimed.

His excited shout interrupted Matt, his lips still parted from having been cut off mid-sentence. Matt felt the shift of air as Foggy pointed a firm finger right at his chest, the triumphant smile on Foggy’s mouth very apparent to him before his friend barreled on.

“I knew it, man! I knew it!” Foggy roared.

Matt’s brows furrowed, his head tilting to the side. “Knew what?” he asked.

“You want to marry her!” Foggy replied excitedly. “You didn’t deny it just now–that she’s the future Mrs. Murdock! Holy shit, we need to celebrate!”

“Whoa, hey, hold on there,” Matt quickly said, holding up a hand.

Foggy spun in his seat, facing Matt fully as he straightened in his chair. “Tell me I’m wrong,” Foggy demanded. “Tell me you don’t want to marry her, Matt. Go on.”

“Well, I…” Matt began, his voice slowly trailing off.

He couldn’t tell Foggy that because it wasn’t remotely true. He’d told his mother just a couple of weeks ago that very truth, that he so badly wanted to marry you. And he did want that. To permanently be able to call you his girl–his wife –until his dying breath. To spend the rest of his days with you by his side. He wanted to always hear the way you proudly called him yours in return.

Foggy sucked in a sharp breath, the sound drawing Matt back from his thoughts.

“Holy shit, man,” Foggy breathed out, clapping a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “You’re like there there, aren’t you?"

Matt's eyes narrowed curiously behind his glasses at Foggy beside him. "What does that even mean?" he asked.

"Like you're close to picking out a ring and getting down on one knee?" he replied. "Figuring out ways to propose? Thinking about planning a wedding? Actually marrying her?”

Matt drew the beer bottle up to his lips, taking a drink as he let what Foggy said settle in his mind. Was he there there already? He certainly wanted to have you move in first and get settled but…he did have a proposal idea already planned. And he had set aside money for potentially buying an engagement ring soon.

"Yeah, Fog," Matt answered slowly. "I guess I am."

Foggy flung himself forward, wrapping Matt in a hug that took him off guard and almost knocked him out of his seat. Matt was laughing as he hugged his friend back while simultaneously trying to set his beer down without spilling it.

"This is cause for celebration!" Foggy told him. "I never thought you would finally let someone get close enough for you to want to marry them!”

Matt shrugged as Foggy released him from his enthusiastic embrace. He couldn’t fight the smile that lingered on his lips at the thought of you being there every time he came home from work, the store, running around the streets as Daredevil. Everything.

“I never thought I could ,” Matt admitted. “But somehow…I keep finding myself only ever wanting her closer.”

Matt could feel the way Foggy’s heart jumped in his chest as the muscles in his face pulled into an even larger smile at his words. He was genuinely thrilled for Matt, it was obvious.

“I'm happy for you, man," Foggy told him. “Really. You deserve to be happy–and to let yourself be happy.”

"Thanks, Fog," Matt said, the bright smile still on his own face.

Foggy slipped out of his seat beside Matt, clapping a hand to his shoulder yet again. Matt could feel his best friend’s excitement steadily growing.

"We're doing shots," Foggy stated. "This is monumental and we need to properly celebrate it."

“Fog–”

“No!” Foggy said, holding up a hand and quieting his friend. “No, we’re celebrating. Matt Murdock is no longer a bachelor!”

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m not married yet, Fog,” he pointed out.

“Key word being yet , buddy,” Foggy replied, shooting Matt a wink. He turned over his shoulder, facing the bar. “Josie!” Foggy called out. “Josie, pour us something strong! My man is in love and we need to properly commemorate the night he finally admitted it!”

“Just now realizing it, Murdock?” Josie sassed back from behind the bar. “‘Bout goddamn time, you did.”

“Amen to that!” Foggy shouted.

_______

You groaned as you sat on Matt's couch, your laptop in your lap. Slamming your finger on the backspace button, you watched as the words you'd just written slowly disappeared. Ellison had finally given you something real to work on and for some reason the words just felt like they kept coming out wrong.

You ran your hands through your hair in frustration as you stared at the blank screen once again. Why was this so hard to start?

A loud ringing cut through the silence of Matt's apartment and you startled on the couch. Eyes dropping to the time on your laptop, you were shocked to see it was nearing ten at night. Matt usually would have come back from Josie’s by now.

Frowning, you set your laptop on the cushion beside you as you reached forward and grabbed your ringing phone from off the coffee table. You frowned further when you saw it was Foggy. Was something wrong?

"Foggy? What's up? Did something happen?" you asked immediately upon answering the call.

His boisterous voice greeted you with your name and your brows drew up onto your forehead instantly. He'd slurred your name. He was drunk. Did that mean Matt was, too? You'd never seen him drunk before.

"Nothing is wrong, I swear," Foggy told you. "But we may have gone a little too far with the alcohol tonight. Matt might need some help."

You turned on the couch, closing your laptop. "Help? What kind of help?" you asked.

"Getting up to his apartment–"

"Tell her I love her!"

You grinned when you heard Matt's drunken voice in the background cutting Foggy off. He definitely sounded as if he’d had a bit more to drink than usual.

"He says he loves you," Foggy continued. "But he's–he's blind and drunk, y'know? You think you can help?"

"Yeah, I can. Where are you guys?" you asked. "Still at Josie’s?"

"We're uh–" Foggy paused, his voice muffled as he appeared to be talking to a taxi driver.

The phone shuffled loudly and your eyes narrowed at the sound. And then you heard Matt on Foggy’s phone a second later.

"Sweetheart, I love you," Matt said.

Laughing, you rose to your feet and made your way towards the entryway hall. "I love you, too, Matty," you told him.

Bending down, you grabbed your shoes from under the bench where they sat next to Matt’s gym shoes. He sighed loudly on the line, the sound a contented one as you cradled the phone on your shoulder. You settled on the bench and began pulling your shoes on.

"You have the most beautiful voice," Matt continued on. "The voice of–of an angel. Never heard a voice so beautiful, sweetheart."

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliment. "That might be a little bit of an exaggeration–"

" No ," Matt cut you off firmly. "It's not, it's the God's honest truth, sweetie. You–you have–"

"Matt! That's my phone!"

Throwing a hand over your mouth, you tried to stifle your laugh behind it as you heard a drunk Foggy reprimanding a drunk Matt for stealing his phone. There was more shuffling along the line before Foggy was back on the phone. During their brief scuffle you’d gotten up and began making your way out of Matt’s apartment and towards the elevators.

“We’re pulling up to Matt’s building in a moment,” Foggy informed you. “Y’think you can come down and help our boy find his way?”

“Already at the elevator, Fog,” you told him. “I’ll be outside in a minute. Do you think you can both stay out of trouble until then?”

“Pshh, of course!” Foggy exclaimed. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

“Fog, Fog tell her she has a beautiful voice.”

Biting your lip, you fought back your laughter yet again at Matt’s drunk voice in the background. As you stepped onto the elevator, pushing the button for the main floor, you realized drunk Matt was probably going to be a handful tonight. What sort of a handful still remained to be seen.

“Well, you both did get drunk,” you pointed out, hearing Matt’s insistent muffled voice in the background. “So I mean, not really the best judgment call there. Not to mention, well, Matt’s alter ego.”

“We’ll be fine ,” Foggy assured you. “Taxi just pulled up and–no, Matt, you tell her that! That’s vastly too much information!”

Your cheeks flamed as the elevator doors opened, not entirely sure you wanted to know what drunk Matt was spewing to Foggy in that taxi. Hurrying through the lobby, you made it out the front of the building and immediately spotted the taxi parked outside. Foggy and Matt were still drunkenly arguing with each other so you hung up, slipping your phone into your sweatpants pocket.

Reaching the taxi, you sent the driver an apologetic smile before you knocked on the back window. Foggy jumped in his seat, his head whipping in your direction. When he realized it was you, he smiled wide and opened the door–which hit you in the thigh before you could step back and you grimaced.

“Sorry, sorry!” Foggy quickly apologized.

“It’s fine, Fog,” you told him, a hand rubbing your thigh.

He slid out of the back of the taxi, Matt quickly following behind him. Reaching out, you grasped onto Matt’s wrist as he rose to his feet, directing his hand to your arm. But his other hand quickly landed on your hip as Matt stepped fully into you, his nose nuzzling right into your neck.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Shifting awkwardly, you tried to peer around Matt at Foggy. He was leaning up against the open taxi door as if he needed it to support his weight.

“You going to be okay making it back home, Fog?” you asked.

He waved a dismissive hand at you in return. “I’ll be fine,” he answered. “You going to be able to get him upstairs on your own?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Seems like he can stand on his own just fine so it won’t be so– Matt! ”

His hand had slid down your hip and into your sweatpants, palming your ass over your underwear. You felt his mouth draw into a smile against your neck. Foggy pulled a face when he saw what Matt was doing, his hand raising as he sent a quick wave.

“This is where I bid you both goodnight and good luck,” he told you.

“Get home safe!” you called out to him, your hand reaching around to pull Matt’s out of your pants. “Matt, hey, we’re literally on the sidewalk! Hands to yourself!”

“Can’t help myself,” Matt murmured, his hand residing on your lower back, just above the waistband of your sweatpants. “Smell like peaches. And sex.”

You pulled a face, glancing at what you could see of him from where he’d burrowed into your neck. “I smell like what ?” you asked him incredulously.

“Shampoo,” he mumbled against your skin. “Pheromones. Smell really good. And I love your ass,” he told you. “Not afraid to tell you. Or touch it.”

His fingers slipped into the back of your sweatpants again. Your right hand darted around, catching his wrist quickly and pulling his hand back out.

“Okay, how about we get you back upstairs to your apartment, hmm?” you told him quickly.

He sent you a devilish grin as he pulled away from your neck, his brows raising suggestively onto his forehead. “Trying to get me alone, sweetheart?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, stepping back from him and guiding him back towards his building. “Trying to get you back up to your apartment before you do something too crazy,” you corrected.

Thankfully Matt followed you through the lobby willingly and without much stumbling as you led him back towards the elevators. You pushed the call button and the doors to one of the elevators instantly opened. Guiding Matt inside, you pushed the button for his floor before you felt him release your arm to instead wrap his around your waist, drawing you into him.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered, lowering his forehead to your shoulder. “I love you, you know that?”

Glancing down at him, you smiled at the sight of him relaxed along your shoulder, his eyes closed. You reached a hand up, carding your fingers through his hair. He hummed happily in response, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I love you, too, Matt,” you told him.

Gradually you felt his hand lowering on your waist until it was openly groping your ass over your sweatpants. You shot him a pointed look in return, noticing the little smirk on his mouth.

“Matt,” you chided.

“What?” he asked innocently, his hand still kneading your ass.

“Hands to yourself,” you reminded him.

He groaned, his hand sliding back up to your hip just as the elevator doors opened. You led the pair of you back down the hallway to his apartment, Matt clinging to the back of you as you both walked. Opening his door, the two of you entered and Matt wasted no time slipping his dress shoes off of his feet with a sigh.

“Let me get my shoes off,” you told him, slipping them off of your feet, “and I’ll help you to the couch before I get you water.”

Bending down, you grabbed both yours and Matt’s shoes before turning and tucking them under the bench. Before you had a chance to straighten, you felt both of Matt’s large, warm palms on your ass once again openly feeling you up over your sweatpants.

“Can I help you?” you asked over your shoulder.

His covered gaze slid towards your face, his bottom lip slipping back between his teeth. Matt nodded in response, a rumble vibrating in his chest. Rolling your eyes, you stood back up and did your best to ignore the way that look had just affected you.

“Matt, baby, you’re drunk,” you informed him, turning around as his hands fell to his sides. “We’re not doing anything tonight.”

Matt’s head tilted to the side, his covered gaze still on you as his mouth pulled up into a smirk. “I can tell you want me, sweetheart. Your body doesn’t lie.”

His hands both landed on your hips again, pulling you abruptly into him. A gasp of surprise fell out of you as he lowered his forehead to yours. You could smell the faint bit of beer on his breath as he nuzzled his nose into yours.

“I just want to feel you tonight,” he murmured. “Just want to love you, that’s all.”

Breath coming in shallower, you were finding it harder and harder to hold firm with what he was saying to you. If he hadn’t been drunk you’d have been tearing your own clothes off by now.

“Not–not tonight,” you stammered out.

“Just want to make you feel good, sweet girl,” he whispered, his hands snaking their way back down to your ass and pressing your hips against his solid body. “Want to take care of you. Always want to take care of you.”

You licked your lips, trying hard to control yourself, especially as Matt’s own hips ground forward into you. Trying to keep your eyes from fluttering shut at the feel of him, you exhaled a deep breath and tried to stay calm and collected. As good as that all really sounded, you weren’t going to have sex with Matt when he was this drunk. It didn’t feel right.

“Not tonight, baby,” you whispered back.

His mouth lowered beside your ear, his lips brushing the skin and raising goosebumps along your arms as he spoke. “I always take care of my girl,” he purred. “Always take real good care of you, sweet girl.” His mouth lowered, planting a lingering kiss along your neck. “You know I do,” he said against your skin, a shiver running down your spine. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“Not when you’ve drank so much,” you replied, voice wavering. It took everything inside of you to step back out of his hold instead of grinding back up into him. “Let’s get you to the couch. I’ll get you some water.”

He expelled a deep sigh, his hands stopping their groping of your ass. Matt let you grab his hand and lead him down the entryway hall and towards his couch. He plopped down onto it before you headed into his kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. You made your way back to him on the couch, offering the glass out to him. It took a few tries for him to find the glass, something you found curious and assumed was due to the alcohol affecting his senses. Once he’d grabbed a hold of it, he drew it to his mouth and downed it quickly. You accepted the empty cup from him and set it on the coffee table behind you. When you turned back around, you eyed his disheveled work clothes.

“How about I help you get ready for bed?” you offered. “Sound good?”

He shot you a cheeky smile from the couch. “That depends,” he answered. “What are we doing in bed?”

“Sleeping, Matt,” you said firmly. Bending over, you grabbed onto his hands and tugged at them from his place on the couch. “Come on drunk devil, let’s get you to bed.”

With a groan he rose back up to his feet, following after you to the bedroom. You flipped on the light as you entered before turning and focusing on Matt. Taking off his glasses, you reached over to set them on the top of the nearby dresser. And then your hands worked swiftly, beginning to undo his tie as he stood there, swaying slightly on his feet as he stared down at you. Gradually you felt your cheeks heating up under his gaze.

When you’d undone his tie, you pulled it out from under his shirt collar before tossing that along his nearby dresser. Next, you focused on the task of undoing each of the little buttons of his dress shirt. Hands reaching up, you began slowly slipping each button through the hole, trying to ignore the bare skin of his slowly revealing itself to you. When you’d managed to unbutton the first three, Matt’s hands slid up the length of your forearms until they were gently holding your wrists as you worked. Biting your lip, you tried very hard to ignore your growing arousal.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, breaking the silence.

You snorted, shaking your head as you continued unbuttoning his shirt. “And you’re drunk,” you replied.

“No, I’m serious,” he pressed. “You’re so smart. And funny. So kind-hearted. You’re–you’re too good for me. Much too good for me.”

Eyes darting up to his face, you frowned as your hands briefly halted halfway down his shirt. “Stop that, Matt,” you warned.

He shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’m far too selfish to want to give you up now.”

Sighing, you continued on your task of finishing unbuttoning his shirt. You tried to work quickly, aware of the way his thumbs were stroking the backs of your hands and what his touch was doing to you and your body. When you’d finally gotten the last one undone, you reached up, your hands sliding the soft fabric down off his broad shoulders until he was left bare from the waist up before you. You were about to turn and set his shirt on the dresser until his hands tightened on your forearms and held you still.

“I love you,” he said.

You paused, your gaze catching on the sight of something intense burning behind his eyes as he’d said that. For a moment you stood there, enraptured by whatever it was just sitting behind the surface, as if that ‘I love you’ meant something more than that.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back.

His head tilting to the side, something softer overtook the features of his face. His lips parted slightly, the corners of them gently curving upwards as his brows rose just a fraction while he fondly stared back at you. Heart rate accelerating, you gripped his shirt tighter in your hands, bunching the material. Why was he looking at you like that?

He took a step towards you, closing the distance. His right hand made a slow journey up your arm, leaving a trail of heat behind that had your jaw tightening, until he was cupping your cheek. He carefully tilted your face up towards his, his sightless eyes almost desperately trying to meet your own.

“What if,” he began softly, his thumb stroking your cheek, “I wanted to keep you for always?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you froze. Was he implying what you thought he was implying with that? There was no way though…right? You two weren’t even living together yet, there was no way he was thinking about marriage right now. He was just drunk. Wasn’t he?

You swallowed hard, trying to control your voice and keep it from trembling as you spoke. “Then you’ll have me for always, Matty,” you whispered. “Not a number far enough away from one, right?”

His eyelids slowly lowered, a gradual smile making its way across his lips. He looked content, peaceful. Happy. As if you’d somehow said the exact right thing to him.

“Baby,” you whispered, “we should get you to bed. You’re probably not going to be feeling too good in the morning.”

Matt’s eyes opened, landing on you for a long moment before he eventually nodded. He released his hold on your face, stepping back and undoing the button and zipper of his dress pants as you set aside his shirt. You watched as he slipped his pants down his legs, your hands darting out to help steady him as he did. You certainly caught sight of the slight bulge in his dark boxers and immediately had to look away. The knowledge of him being aroused definitely was not helping you right now.

When he was in nothing but his boxers, you helped guide him around the bed and over towards his side. You pulled the sheets back as he climbed in before you tugged them back up, covering him and smiling as he snuggled up into his pillow.

“You’re coming to bed, too, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered, making your way back to the lightswitch. “I’m just getting the light and I’ll join you.”

Flipping off the light and sliding his bedroom door shut, you cautiously made your way back to his bed in the near pitch black. For a brief moment you considered undressing down to your underwear but then quickly thought better of it. That would probably only encourage more groping and sexual advances.

You climbed onto the bed and got comfortable, adjusting the sheets on you before you turned, facing Matt. He was scooting his way towards you along the mattress, a hand searching for you. He hummed contentedly when he found your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze that brought another smile to your mouth.

“Sweetheart?” he asked tentatively through the dark.

“Hmm?” you answered.

There was a brief moment of hesitation before he spoke.

“Will you at least kiss me?” he asked.

“Of course, Matty,” you replied, raising up onto an elbow.

Your right hand landed on his chest, making its way up his warm, bare skin until you found his chin. Taking a moment, you leaned forward and found his lips with your own. His hand on your hip tightened, drawing you closer into him as he kissed you back. Despite Matt’s inebriation, there was a level of intensity in his kiss that you weren’t expecting, some strong feelings of his washing up with each soft, slow connection of his mouth on yours. It was almost dizzying, so much so that you eventually had to force yourself to pull away and remember that he was drunk and this couldn’t lead to anything more.

“I love you,” Matt murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion. “Can never say it enough.”

You swallowed hard, settling back down onto your pillow beside him. “I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered back. “You should really get some sleep though.”

He shifted a little, holding you even closer to his body. Silence fell over the pair of you for a few minutes. You’d have thought he’d fallen asleep if he hadn’t eventually broken the quiet with a whispered plea.

“Please never leave me.”

You curled up closer to him, feeling his body heat envelope you under the silk sheets. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised him. “I’m staying right here with you, Matty.”

Matt hummed out a tired, contented noise in response, his head shifting along the pillow for a moment before you felt him brush his lips against your forehead. Your eyes closed, a smile spreading across your mouth. And then gradually you both fell asleep.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x reader #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock #fftd

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grimbanes · 1 year

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kaz brekker being a menace! six of crows edition;

kaz and matthias underrated moment: “were you always good at locks?” “no.” “how did you learn?” “the way you learn about anything. take it apart.” “and the magic tricks?” kaz snorted. “so you don’t think im a demon anymore?” “I know you’re a demon, but your tricks are human.”

Kaz’s grin was as sharp as a razor. “Thank goodness we’re proper thieves. We’re going to do a little shopping and it’s all going on Fjerda’s tab. Inej,” he said, “let’s start with something shiny.” - chapter 28.

“when we get our money, you can burn kruge to keep you warm,” kaz said. “i’m going to pay someone to burn my kruge for me.” kaz fell into step beside him. “why don’t you pay someone else to pay someone else to burn your kruge for you? that’s what the big players do.” - chapter 19.

“please tell me kaz hasn’t gone missing again,” nina said. - chapter 37.

kaz marvelled at his own stupidity. dumber than a pigeon fresh off the boat and looking to make a fortune on the east stave. - chapter 45.

“son of a bitch,” he exclaimed a second later. rollins held up his watch chain. a turnip was hanging from the fob where his diamond-studded timepiece should have been. “that little bastard-“ then a thought came to him. he reached for his wallet. it was gone. so was his tie pin, the kaelish coin pendant he wore for luck, and the gold buckles on his shoes. rollins wondered if if he should check the fillings in his teeth. - chapter 46.

They blew up the lab, he’d thought as the debris rained down around him. I definitely did not tell them to blow up the lab. - chapter 38.

The harbour had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world. She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him. - chapter 38.

“And get me clean clothes and fresh water.” “Since when am I your valet?” “Man with a knife, remember?” He said over his shoulder. “Man with a gun!” Jesper called after him. Kaz replied with a time-saving gesture that relied heavily on his middle finger. - chapter 13.

At any given time he had at least two knives stashed somewhere in his clothes. He didn’t even count this one, really - a tidy, wicked little blade. - chapter 13.

“This is disgusting.” kaz shrugged. “Only disgusting thing about it is that I didn’t think of it first.” “These men aren’t slaves, kaz. they’re prisoners.” “they’re murderers and rapists.” “and thieves and con artists. your people.” “nina, sweet, they aren’t forced to fight.” - chapter 6.

these are just some favourites from the first book that made me laugh very loudly.

#kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows duology #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #kaz #kaz brekker imagine #kanej

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andreafmn · 3 months

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Running in Circles | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss, and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

A/N: can't believe it's been over a year since I updated this story. It was one of the first I ever posted but quickly got disheartened by it as I tried to follow the show's timeline (which is non-existent, honestly). I'm trying to get through season 6 as fast as I can because I've already written chapters for afterward, but I need to tie it into the show. Honestly considered putting the story on hold but I got the chapter done 😊😊 Also need to go back and edit this story, especially regarding the POV

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As if by divine intervention, (Y/N)’s phone started ringing. The vibrations matched the fluttering of her heart as she prayed that Hotch could have been thinking about her at that moment as well. Maybe then she could trick herself into believing that fate was playing its cards right.

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Derek,” she sighed quietly, trying her best not to voice her disappointment. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“You mind some company for tonight? I got a bottle of whiskey with our names on it.”

“Know what? After the day we just had, sure.” She looked down at the pan of lasagna and decided if she couldn’t enjoy it with Hotch, she’d enjoy it with a friend. “I’ve got some lasagna going in the oven we can eat.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.”

After the phone clicked, she decided the most prudent thing would be to send Hotchner a text message thanking him for the food and saying she’d update him on everything tomorrow. After everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, she needed a moment of calm and clarity. A moment with certainty rather than mixed signals and stolen glances. She just needed a moment to breathe.

As any evidence of the day shed from her skin in the shower, a loud knock rang through the house. She quickly stepped out of her bathroom and slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie before she ran down the stairs to be met with Derek already inside the kitchen, digging a fork into the piping hot lasagna, with Spencer staring at our friend as he ate like a maniac.

“You know, if you let it cool down a bit, you can savor the taste,” Reid chuckled.

“I know,” he spoke with a full mouth. “But I wanna get drunk tonight, and I won’t do it on an empty stomach.”

“There’s some garlic bread in the toaster oven if you need something that will soak up the alcohol,” (Y/N) laughed as her two friends came into view in her kitchen. “And it’s good to see you’re putting those emergency keys to good use.”

“Sorry, (Y/N),” Spencer responded quickly. “Derek said you wouldn’t mind. We waited five minutes outside.”

“It’s fine, Reid. But you could’ve checked who was at the door.”

“Well, I didn’t want to overstep,” he shrugged. “It’s not my house after all.”

“Good to know you have boundaries, Reid,” she chuckled. “Not that they stopped either of you from letting yourselves in.”

Derek only grumbled in response, too focused on serving the plates and stuffing his mouth. (Y/N) headed to the front door, unsure of who else could have decided to drop by. And though a part of her wanted it to be Hotchner, she knew better than to live in that delusion. He was back in his home with his son, while she had a house full of friends and him on her mind.

“‘Em,” the woman smiled as she opened the door. “Derek invite you too?”

“As a matter of fact, he did. But I’m guessing he didn’t tell you I was coming over.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t use your emergency key as freely as those two boys.”

“Well, you did say we should feel at home,” Morgan grinned. “I’m just doing what you told me to.”

“First time you follow the rules, Morgan,” Emily teased. “Although I’d rather you guys break into (Y/N)’s house than mine.”

“Geez, thanks, Em,” she chuckled. “You’re lucky there’s enough food and booze to go around. But don’t go too crazy. We still have work tomorrow.”

“As if you’d ever let us go hungry,” Emily laughed. “Your Italian blood would never let you.”

“All I need to know is if there’s anyone else that will show up out of the blue.”

“Not that I know of,” Derek shrugged. “Now open up that bottle, I’m thirsty.”

By the time midnight rolled around, Emily and Derek had gone back home. They had eaten enough and drank enough the exhaustion was making their eyelids flutter. And all of them knew that the longer they stayed, the harder it would be to make it back to their homes. Only Spencer was left, curled up on the sofa, still nursing the same glass of whiskey from the start of the night. His eyes were squeezed shut, a hand over them blocking the overhead light.

“You okay, Spence?” (Y/N) asked as she sat by his head, resting it gently onto her lap. She ran her fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp softly. “You got a migraine?”

“Something like that,” he sighed. “They’ve been going on for a bit, but lately, they’ve been worse. The pain is unbelievable, and it makes me sensitive to everything around me.”

“Have you gone to a doctor? This could be something serious, Spence,” she worried. “I have a friend that might be able to squeeze you in. She’s a neurologist and…”

“I’ve got it handled, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I made an appointment for later in the week. I just have to power through the remaining days with sunglasses and pills.”

As soon as he mentioned the pain, a question popped into (Y/N)’s head that she did not want to ask. It was composed of words that could only bring back horrors from his past and the mistakes he was still paying for to that day. The last thing she wanted was to resurface that horrible period, but she had to know. For his sake, she just had to.

“I haven’t taken Dilaudid,” he said before she could speak. “It hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

“How did you…?”

“You were thinking too loud,” he responded as he grinned slightly, his eyes still closed. “And you’re the only one that still asks.”

“I’m sorry, Spence. I don’t mean to be so pushy, she sighed as she stared at the way her fingers ran through the brown of his hair. “If you don’t want time to ask, just…”

“No. I’m grateful that you do.” His free hand searched for hers, squeezing it softly as he enjoyed the warmth of her skin. “I sometimes feel that the team goes out of their way to pretend that part of my life didn’t happen or that it could never happen again. But it did, and it could. Still, I know I can always count on you to look after me, (Y/N). Even if I’m a couple of years older than you, you always find a way to take care of me.”

“And I always will, Reid. You’re a part of my family, and I take care of my family,” she responded softly. “Do you wanna stay here tonight? If it’s too bad, I don’t want you driving out there in the dark.”

“Honestly? Yeah,” Spencer breathed. “I don’t think I could make it home right now.”

“Alright, then. Why don’t you head on up and take a shower while I prepare you some tea and get you a cold compress for your head?” (Y/N) instructed. “You can take any of the sweats from the guest room, and I’ll fetch you some migraine pills so you can hopefully get some shut-eye tonight.”

“Thanks, Rossi,” the man smiled, finally allowing his eyes to open, finding that she had dimmed all the lights. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she smiled. “Now, go on upstairs, and I’ll get started on the tea.”

“Fine,” he jokingly whined. “And can you not tell anyone else? I don’t want them worrying about me.”

“I won’t. Just, please keep me updated.”

“Copy that.”

As he disappeared to the second floor, (Y/N) couldn’t help but worry about her friend. Spencer had gone through things that were unimaginable. And though he came out of them with his life, they had slowly started to eat away at him. She knew firsthand just how debilitating anxiety could be to someone’s body, and it concerned her that he was downplaying his symptoms.

She set her kettle to boil as she searched for her own mixture of sleepy-time tea—chamomile, lemongrass, peppermint, and lavender. From her cupboard, she pulled out the purple and blue mug Spencer had always used since he had claimed it was able to keep his tea warm enough to sip slowly. Because apparently it had always been a big concern of his. After placing the tea infuser into the mug, she drizzled a few circles of honey to the bottom and a sprinkle of cinnamon. And once the kettle beeped, she drowned the leaves and the honey in boiling water.

(Y/N) could hear the shower running upstairs as she let the tea seep into the water, and all she could do was worry. Granted, it was something she did every single day of her life. She worried about her father spending all his time in books and his work and not enough on his personal life. She worried about little Jack having to grow up without his mother and a dad who didn’t quite believe he could do a good job as a father. She worried about Hotch, about what he did or didn’t feel. She worried about the team every time they went out on a case. And most importantly, she worried about herself and how she would ever live up to the people around her. Now, she added Spencer’s migraines to the list. If she ever made it to old age without a heart attack, she would have been very surprised.

Walking up the stairs with the mug and the pills, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She balanced the mug on the flat handrail and pulled out the device to see Hotchner’s name lighting up the screen. Her heart hammered against her chest, making her hands tremble with nerves. It was just a phone call., she told herself. He was probably only calling to thank her again.

“Hotch,” she breathed, her voice croaking more than she intended. “Hey.”

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No!” she answered quickly. “I was just heading up the stairs. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, you don’t need to worry,” he assured. “It’s just that Jack wanted to say goodnight and thank you.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for him to be up?” (Y/N) smiled. “I mean, it is still a school night.”

“I caved,” Hotch chuckled. She could hear the exhaustion still present in his voice, and all she wanted to do was help him. It was all she could do. To him, she’d always be just a friend, a coworker, his colleague’s daughter. “Please don’t hold it against me.”

“I could never,” the woman laughed. “I would have probably caved too.”

“Well, then, I’ll put you on.”

(Y/N) heard scuffling from the receiver before Jack’s voice came through. “Hi, (Y/N),” he said. “I wanted to say goodnight since we couldn’t say goodbye to you. I had a lot of fun this weekend.”

“Aw, buddy, I’m glad,” she cooed. “I loved having you over. You know you’re welcome any time.”

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” he beamed. “But I gotta go to bed now. I have school tomorrow. So, goodnight!”

“Good night, Jack,” she responded. “Now, why don’t you pass the phone back to your dad.”

“Alright. Bye bye!”

“Bye, Jack,” she chuckled. “I think that kid should be heading off to bed now, Hotch.”

“He is,” Hotchner answered. “I knew he’d want to after saying good night to you. I think my son likes you more than he likes me.”

“Oh, that’s nonsense, Hotch. He only likes that I’m all fun. But he loves you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he chuckled softly. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“Even when you don’t have to,” the woman sighed contentedly. “Now, go on. You have to sleep too. It’s not just Jack that is up past his bedtime.”

“Very funny, (Y/N). Good night.”

“Night, Hotch.”

(Y/N)’s chest wrenched as her heart accelerated, already wishing the days before could repeat themselves so she could wake and know that he was there. But there was no point in deluding herself. The man could not and would not ever see her as anything more than what she already was. Even their job would allow it. Nothing seemed to ever align for something between them to work.

She turned to the left once she reached the top of the stairs and headed to the guest room to leave the steaming mug for Spencer to find after his shower but found him already sitting on the bed drying his hair. “Was that Hotch on the phone?” She nodded in response. “You didn’t tell him about what’s going on with me, right?”

“Of course not, Spence,” she said in a low tone as she set the mug on the nightstand. “It’s not my information to divulge. Unless it becomes life-threatening, I won’t say a thing without your permission.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she smiled, handing him the pills. “Anything.”

“What do you think these migraines could be?” The pain behind his eyes was more than visible, it was almost palpable. “I just… what if it’s something serious, (Y/N)?”

“Serious like what, Spence?”

“What if I’m starting to lose my mind?” His voice was frail, trembling at the terrifying thought. “You know, my mom…”

“Don’t go there, Spencer. You can’t go there,” the woman insisted. “We won’t speculate until you have an answer from the doctor. So, I’m begging you, don’t go there.”

“I can’t help it, (Y/N). Either there’s something seriously physically wrong with me, or it’s all psychosomatic. Neither is a good option.”

“I know, Spence. I know. But let’s just not jump to conclusions yet. Not until you’ve gone to the doctor, and we get some type of answer. Until then, I don’t want you to think of the worst-case scenario. It’s not gonna do you any good.”

“Fine,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped forward. “Can I ask you something else? Something that is so off-topic you’ll get whiplash.”

“Go ahead, Reid,” she chuckled softly.

“Do you still have feelings for Hotch?”

The question as innocent, no ill-will behind it. But it still made (Y/N)’s breath hitch in her throat. It had been a long time since any of the people they knew mentioned her less-than-secret infatuation with the unit chief, and it made her heart race like the first time he had confronted her about it. “Yeah,” she muttered. “It’s not something that’s going away any time soon.”

“Have you ever thought of dating someone else? It might help you get over him.”

“I might not be ready for that just yet,” she sighed. “I just can’t seem to stop holding onto hope.”

“I understand. Love… it’s hard, huh?”

“It’s one thing we can’t learn from all the books we read,” she smiled sadly. “But that’s enough talk. The pills should start to work soon, and you need to sleep.”

“Thanks, (Y/N),” he smiled as he got under the covers. “Thank you for caring.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that, Spence. Again, you’re family,” she grinned. “I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah. Good night.”

“Good night, Reid.”

The rest of the night, Spencer’s words floated in her head. She could open her dating pool and allow herself a little venture. Hotch wasn’t waiting for her, nor had he shown a smidge of real interest in her. Holding onto him only hurt her in the long run, making it harder for anyone else who wanted to take the place he did not want. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not just yet.

After a couple of days and a two-night case all the way in Miami, Spencer asked (Y/N) to accompany him to the doctor for the reading of his test results. He was jumpier than usual, his legs bouncing at a rapid speed as they waited for his name to be called. He figured with his fingers, picking at the skin on the corners until she placed her hand on top.

“You won’t have any skin left for our next case,” she chuckled. “Don’t start jumping to conclusions, Mr. Genius.”

“I can’t help it,” he worried. “It’s all I can do. I can’t just shut off my brain.”

“Then, tell me something. Something I might not know.”

“Easier said than done,” he snorted. “You know almost as much as I do.”

“Ah, you said almost as much. So, you believe there are things that you know that I don’t.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Did you know that rubber bands last longer if they’re kept in the fridge? The unusual, lightly cross-linked polymer structure of the rubber used to create them react to the cold differently to what people might expect…”

“Right, the chains heat up when stretched, technically shortening them causing the rubber to contract and eventually snapping at the exothermic change,” she mused. “Cooling them would allow for a bigger stretch and life longevity because the release of energy is slower. Nice fact.”

“See, it’s not as fun with you,” he said with a soft chuckle. “The team would have been asking why I would care about rubber bands. You? You go into a simple explanation of thermodynamics.”

“Well, I ask you for a fun fact. I never said I wouldn’t analyze it.”

As Spencer was about to retort, a nurse came out to call his name, telling him the doctor would see him. He got up onto his feet, smoothing down his pants and taking a steadying breath. But he didn’t seem to do more.

“Do you want me to go with you?” (Y/N) quickly offered.

She was met with a soft smile and a gentle nod before they both headed into the office where Spencer’s worst-case scenario unfolded. The doctor told him there was nothing he could see that was physically wrong with him, the scans and the lab work all came back negative. If there was something happening, it was most likely in his head.

Those were the news Spencer did not want. They terrified him, and he let the doctor know. In his own way. “It’s not—I’m not crazy.”

“Crazy? Dr. Reid, I’m not saying…”

“I have headaches. I have intense sensitivity to light. Because there’s something wrong with me,” he asserted, his words spilling out faster than he could hold them. “Physically, not mentally. It’s not that.”

“That?”

“Listen, doctor, my mother’s a paranoid schizophrenic who’s been institutionalized. So I know very well what mental illness looks like,” Spencer continued. “Maybe even better than you, and it’s not that. It’s not.”

“Reid,” (Y/N) called as the man got up from the exam table and left the doctor with a shocked expression on his face. “I am so sorry, doctor. This topic is just… it’s a little hard for him.”

“There’s not much you can do to help someone who doesn’t want to accept their reality,” the doctor sighed softly. “Can you just see that he finds a way to manage his stress and his emotions? I truly believe this might be one of the biggest reasons for these headaches.”

“I’ll try my best, doctor,” (Y/N) smiled. “Thank you for seeing him.”

“No problem.”

She found Spencer waiting for her in the hall, his sunglasses on his eyes and his arms crossed in front of his chest. They remained in silence until they reached her car, the doctor’s pout evident on his face. She knew he was annoyed she had apologized for his behavior, but she couldn’t leave without at least giving a reason for his outburst.

“It’s not psychosomatic,” he stated. “It just can’t be.”

“Spence, we have one of the most stressful jobs on the planet. Day in and day out we see cases that astound even the most seasoned officers. And we get into the minds of the people that commit these atrocities,” she offered. “Don’t you think there is a possibility that these migraines are your body’s way of telling you that you need to balance yourself out?”

“If it was really the job like you say, all of us would be getting these headaches,” he said angrily. “But I don’t see Morgan or Prentiss doubling over because their brain feels like it wants to escape their skull.”

“Everyone is different, Spence. And I know you don’t need me to tell you this. Stress presents itself differently in everyone. Just because we don’t know how they handle their burdens doesn’t mean they don’t have them,” (Y/N) continued, maintaining the same calm tone as she cooled him down. “All I am saying, Reid, is that it might be psychosomatic, and you need to find new ways to handle your stress because I am certain this is not you going crazy. Or it might be something else, and you’ll need to get a second opinion. But regardless of what the outcome is, you can’t just get angry at your doctor because you don’t like your results, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. We’ll find you a way through this, okay?”

His stance finally softened at her words. His arms fell to his sides, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I was kind of an ass back there,” he chuckled. “It’s just frustrating and terrifying all the same time, and I don’t know how to process it all.”

“We take it one day at a time, Reid,” she smiled, taking a hand of his in hers. “You’re not alone in this.”

“It’s sometimes hard to remember that you’re you get than me,” he snickered. “I’m pretty sure you’ve babied everyone on the team at some point.”

“What can I say?” she laughed. “I just wanna make sure every single one of you is okay.”

And that was one thing she knew she would do for as long as they would let her. For now, her main concern was Spencer’s well-being. And she was grateful that it was enough to keep Hotchner out of her head.

Next ->

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imhereformysciencefriends · 6 months

Text

@mcyt-yuri-week Day 5: Rarepair!

Gem/Puffy because faves should kiss. And flirt. Excessively. Read on AO3 here

Princess Gem was in the lighthouse running some mild repairs when she first caught sight of the ship on the horizon. Ships were not strange things in Dawn. She herself had built the port, after all, but this was not one of Dawn’s ships, nor did she recognize its sails nor its flag. It wasn’t a pirate flag, thank goodness, she wasn’t sure she was quite up to task to deal with seafaring pillagers at the moment, but there was still a stranger at her shores.

She descended the lighthouse and crossed to her port, wings folded behind her for the time being. She didn’t know if this was a threat yet or not, and butterfly wings made for delicate, easily shot targets if she wasn’t cautious.

The ship was modest. Typically there would be a crew of maybe four people for a vessel this size, but it was possible for one person to man such a thing alone, if the person was practiced. Gem stood at the stone wall shoring up the small cliffside, hand resting on a crenellation, and watched as the vessel’s one-woman-crew heaved the anchor over the side, fastened her boat to the dock, and staggered off.

The bow-legged sheep hybrid (ram? She had large, curling horns) glanced up and caught sight of Princess Gem, and flashed her a big smile.

“Hey girl,” she called, leaning her elbow awkwardly on a pile of crates Gem had ready for trade when one of her own ships returned from their current voyage, “are you from Tennessee?”

“...What?”

“Cause you’reeeee the only ten I see!”

Gem stared at her, wide eyed and flabbergasted and maybe just a touch pink to the cheeks.

“Are you drunk!?” she shouted down, trying to sound appalled and mostly just coming off as embarrassed.

The sailor clicked her tongue and snapped before she pointed two double pistols Gem’s way, staggering slightly with her weight removed from the crates. “I am so dehydrated.”

“Oh well for goodness sake!” Gem unlocked the gate to port and descended the steps, catching the sailor before she could tilt hooves over kilter into the seawater behind her. “Did you not pack enough water for your trip?”

“Got blown off course,” she muttered, leaning on Gem heavily, “nasty storm.”

Well. At least she was alive. Gem huffed.

“I am Princess Gem, ruler of Dawn.”

The sailor grinned. “Captain Puffy; at your service pretty lady.”

Gem felt herself blush again, then snapped her gaze forward, focusing on getting them up the steps. “Let’s just get you some water!”

Puffy laughed, and let Gem all but drag her to the tavern. Across multiple bottles of water, a tankard of very thin mead, and two cups of apple cider, Puffy detailed what had happened to Gem. She’d been sailing since she was old enough to hold a rope and had all the overconfidence to match. She’d been on her own, something she’d done a billion times before, when a storm caught her blindsided. She’d survived and so had her ship, but she’d lost some supplies and had been blown far from the shore she’d been headed towards.

“Normally I have my son with me, and he can get rid of the worst storms. Guess I got too comfortable; didn’t prepare like normal people should.”

“You have a son,” Gem said, for some reason fixated on that fact and feeling… oddly sad?

Puffy grinned, waggling her eyebrows at Gem. “Yeah, but I’m single.”

Gem felt heat rise to her cheeks once again.

“And ready to mingle,” Puffy added lasciviously, leaning forward, and Gem shoved the glass towards her.

“Ju–just drink your juice!!”

Puffy laughed and hoisted the glass upwards, first, as though to toast, before downing it.

“You, um, feeling less dehydrated?” Gem asked, desperately changing the subject.

“Yeah. It’ll take a while to fully recover, though, hydration is best done in multiple smaller drinks done consistently and frequently overtime.” Again, that cocksure, self-assured grin of hers. “Guess I’ll just have to stick around a while.”

Gem was a princess. She was trained from a young age to flit lightly and easily from social situation to social situation, always fluttering above conflict and subtle insult and shadowed prodding. Her words were as delicate lace, intricate and woven into complexity.

This woman’s straightforward flirtations and direct approach had Gem’s heart pounding like a warhammer against her birdcage ribs. If Gem’s decorum was trained to look like stained glass, Puffy’s brazenness was a rock crashing through it.

And, on top of all of that, the captain had the audacity to laugh at her.

“You don’t play with sailors much, do you little lady?” she asked, reclining in her seat and crossing a leg over her knee. It gave Gem a very clear view of her. Her white-turned-beige shirt with ruffles over her breasts tucked into high waisted, big-buttoned pants. Her large captain’s coat hanging boldly off her shoulders, her elbows propped up to the sides. Her beads and coins strung throughout her hair, catching the light of the tavern and glinting distractingly. Her sailor’s muscles and big curling horns and the way the light caught on the dampness left on her lips.

“I—” Gem started when she realized she’d been staring, “Converse. With, traders, perfectly frequently.”

“And none of ‘em take advantage of how cute you are?” Why was her voice so loud? It didn’t sound this loud in Gem’s ears when they were on the dock. Well, loud yes but not this loud. Must’ve been because they were inside now. Puffy’s voice was simply filling the space, and echoing back.

“I’m not—it’s not, in a princess’s job description to be taken advantage of,” Gem stuttered, blushing at how the words sounded coming out of her own mouth. She didn’t mean it like that!

But Puffy laughed at her, and uncrossed her leg with a sharp thud of hoof hitting floor, and rose with a faint jingling of her hair ornaments. She rounded the table with lazy swagger, and it should’ve been impossible for a woman so short to loom so toweringly.

She stopped with her hip cocked against the table, and set a hand on Gem’s shoulder, deceptively slow and gentle. “What about fun?” she asked, voice now so quiet, so so so so quiet Gem had to lean forward to hear her better, her hand drifting off Gem’s shoulder to trail down her arm. “Is having fun in the job description?”

“I—” Gem cut off as she shuddered, Puffy’s hand, roughened with rope and seawater, caressing the freckles dotting the exposed skin of Gem’s own. She swallowed, unable to blink or look away. “I have plenty of fun.”

Puffy grinned like she’d won. “Yeah? Come by my boat and show me sometime, pretty princess. I’ll let you see something nice.”

Gem was so red in the face it made her lightheaded as she watched Puffy saunter away. It did not become a princess to lose her marbles so easily, but Gem simply couldn’t seem to relocate her composure. It was fully lost. Off in the fields somewhere. Or maybe it was leaping around Puffy’s hocks, admiring the way her fluffy woolen tail wiggled as she walked.

The moment the tavern door swung shut behind her, Gem tore her eyes away and grasped at the nearest drink, downing the entire thing in big, heaving gulps. She slammed the cup down in a distinctly unladylike fashion, gasping slightly.

Without distraction, she was now free to make eye contact with the tavern keeper. The tavern keeper who watched her very knowingly. Who had probably been watching her and Puffy since the two had entered in and ordered an absurd number of drinks.

But instead of remarking, the tavernkeeper merely asked, “So are you the one paying for those, then?”

“She—oh she didn’t even—!” Gem gasped, realizing Puffy had left her with the bill. “Oh that little—I’m gonna—!”

She was going to—!

Going to…

She…

Gem’s face, flushed red with a mixture of arousal and fluster and embarrassment at being lightly swindled, felt surely that there must be steam rolling out of her ears by this point. She dropped her burning face into her hands, hiding behind her curtain of hair and red to the tips of her ears.

#captain puffy #captainpuffy #geminitay #gempuffy #puffygem #mcytyuriweek2023 #mcyt yuri week #empires #empires smp #empires s2 #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #my writing #haro writes #flirting #brazen flirting #rarepair

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quotessharry · 2 years

Text

Texan Night (DR3)

It’s COTA and I’ve been waiting for it since earlier this season cause man Daniel in 2021 COTA was just something.

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: blowjob (m receiving), voyeurism

Pairings: Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Synopsis: everything happened in Texas stays in- oh wait that was Vegas right

She never understood Daniel’s infinite love for Texas but he always looked so happy that she couldn’t bring herself to be away of this ball of happiness. She’d never tell this to Daniel but his confidence in his Texan cloths and the atmosphere was such a turn on.

That night they were gathered in a small pub, she had no idea how Daniel found this place but the only ones there were their group of friends, even the bartenders left them alone for some privacy.

The group consisted of Daniel, Corey, Scotty, Michael, Blake, Rob and her. Sure she was the only girl of the group but that wouldn’t stop her from spending time with her man.

A round of untouched shots were on the table as they drunkly laughed at something, she didn’t know what but the sound of laughter had her laughing too hard that she doubled on the chair, some of their companions shook their head in disappointment.

Daniel giggled and took a sip of the beer in his hand, he was totally drunk but he knew he could consume more alcohol, he brought his hands up and started talking in that awful Texan accent “alright alright alright, everyone shut up, I wanna tell a joke”

Scotty slammed his bottle on the table “oh everyone stop talking the great Daniel Ricciardo wanna tell a joke”

“Oh please piss off Ricciardo” Corey made a gesture

“Stop bullying my best friend all of you, please Daniel go ahead” Michael was the most sober out of them.

She stumbled out of the chair, trying to focus on her steps as she walked towards Daniel who was standing in the middle of the room, head held high “Dannyy don’t listen to them, I wanna hear you” she drawled a word and stared lovingly. In that moment she was no better than him. Daniel threw a hand around her waist keeping her close “thanks baby, they hate me so muchhhh” he dramatically added syllables to his words.

She loved being in his arms like this, pressed against him and staring at his flawless face with his new shaved beard that she felt it on herself in morning.

“So you guys know Sarah, right? Precious little Sarah?” He started speaking like a preacher, the rest agreed with a nod even though none of them knew who Sarah was.

“One day Sarah’s teacher says they gonna learn multi- syllabus words, and asks students to give examples, our Sarah is so smart so she volunteers” he made his voice squeaky “me, Miss, me me”

At that point she was just staring at Daniel and the way he was speaking, the shot in her hand long forgotten, the rest were paying attention as if it’s a big important speech. She let her hand wonders, not caring if they have audience, she felt his firm muscles under her fingers and went lower.

“The teacher asks Sarah to say her words, and you know what she says?” She giggled at his dramatic pause “she says: mas-tur-bate” and the room exploded in big loud laugh. Corey and Blake almost went red.

Daniel barely got himself to speak “no no wait listen. Then Miss tells Sarah “wow that’s a mouthful” the Texan accent was back.

The alcohol in her system made her daring, she placed her hand in front of his tight jean, feeling him through the jean. Daniel glanced at her hand and arched his eyebrows at her but didn’t protest and continued “then sarah says” he did the squeaky voice again “No Miss you’re thinking of a blowjob” everyone was quiet until Daniel broke down laughing, bringing her down with him, the rest followed.

He turned his face and stared intensely at her “and you little miss, you are also thinking of a blowjob” he accused.

She pressed her hand against him, now completely hard “and what if I am?” She raised her eyebrows, daring him to continue. In response he only did the same but she had other plans, she placed the shot on the nearest table and dropped on her knees in front of him.

Everyone stared shockingly, not believing what was happening but the two didn’t mind. His finger trailed her lips and her hands started unbuckling his belt “are you really gonna do this here, sweet?” He said cockily, lowkey impatient to have his girl giving him a blowjob in front of his friends.

“Yes we are” she answered, and pulled back his jean and underwear, freeing him from the tight pants.

His hand grabbed the hair on back of her head, pushing her to him, nudging her plump lips with the tip “then take it”

Her fingertips teased the pre cum leaking, her tongue licking it off, she loved the salty taste, feeling the popping veins on her tongue, knowing she is the reason. She was obsessed, he hissed at the feeling of her wet tongue on him. She closed her eyed and took all of him in her mouth, tears gathering in corner of her eyes, someone cheered behind her “oh look she is going for it, she went all in, go get it girl!” Between the haze of lust, alcohol and his cock in her mouth she couldn’t recognize the voice.

Her tongue licked him clean and she used her hands as an assistant, Daniel felt the muscles in his stomach tightening anytime she would drag her tongue on his length “open your eyes, look at me” she listened and looked up at him, tears running down her cheeks at the intensity. He bite his lips at her sight on her knees, taking him all in and gagging “she is doing so good isn’t she?” He asked from the audience, not really expecting an answer. The guys around them could just watch, the scenery was truly something in dim light of the pub.

Daniel pulled her hair and pushed her to himself once again, this time controlling her head and he started to fuck her mouth, he watched her drooling on her chin and felt himself twitching “you’re doing so well for me” he praised her and she felt the wetness between her legs.

She looked up with pleading eyes, his free hand cleaned her wet cheeks “just a little more, god I love your mouth” this time he thrusted a bit harder and kept her firmly, “this feels heavenly, I pity these losers for not getting the same treatment” he let go and moaned, muscles tightening and he released in her mouth, she took it all and kept in on her tongue, needing to taste it longer. Daniel picked the shot and ordered “open your mouth” he poured the entire whiskey shot in her mouth, some of it dripping of her chin. He pulled out, grabbing a tissue of nearest table, cleaned himself and pulled up the jean and the underwear. The rest watched in complete awe, none even knowing this side of them.

She tried to stand still but her legs wobbled and she hung up on Daniel, his hand grabbing her. He grabbed another tissue cleaning her chin “you did really well on your knees” she smiled and pulled him for a filthy kiss, tasting his lips, she didn’t shy away from biting down on his lips, Rob drank with eyes wide open and let out a low “holy shit” at the scene.

“Ok now you two are being so gross” Scotty complained, making an ew sound.

Daniel stared at him with poker face “jealous mother fucker”

She wiggled in bed with sore body and opened her eyes, Daniel’s face was pressed against the pillow and she just wanted to squish him. Sleepily he dropped his hand on her naked back “hey there, morning”

She put her head against him “hey, did we do something last night? I’m sore” she whined.

He yawned, robbing his eyes “I absolutely do not remember shit” it was same for her.

Daniel’s phone dinged on the table next to him, he rolled over and grabbed it, reading the text from Corey saying they’re at breakfast.

She giggled and slapped his ass jokingly, causing him to laugh “but why we’re naked?” In her mind she laughed at how ridiculous the question was, the answer was obvious.

“Because my girlfriend is so handsy, I made it easy for her, come on they’re waiting for us” he said, aiming to stand up but her hand on his face stopped her. Her fingers traced his face, as ridiculous as his beard was, anytime she looked at Daniel she couldn’t look away “sorry, you’re too good looking”

He raised his eyebrows questionably “oh? That’s why you’re touching my beard?”

She rolled over the bed and stood up “absolutely”

They decided to postpone the shower and made their way towards the elevator, for now a clean pair of underwear would suffice. During their ride, she took a note of her sore throat.

When they arrived, all eyes on table turned to them and Scotty murmured “gross” under his breath.

Michael tried his best to act normal and smiled “good morning you two, slept well?”

She rubbed her head “yes just hangover, and sore throat, I think I’m getting sick”

Everyone at the table shuffled, Rob spoke “let me tell you sweetheart, you ain’t getting sick”

Corey dropped his hand behind her chair “you ok? All good?”

Daniel looked like he had no clue what was going on “ok what’s going on?”

“You don’t remember?” Blake asked, looking at them with his glasses on bridge of his nose.

They both tried hard, but all they remembered was when they went to the pub and the rest was a blur. Everyone exchanged a glance with each other and then fixed on Michael.

Michael couldn’t believe he was about to tell his best friend and his girlfriend that she gave him a blowjob in front of everyone, he took a sip from his fancy floral cup of tea “well you see” his eyes changing between them, he looked at her “you” then his eyes went on Daniel “gave you a blowjob”

“How do you know that?” Daniel questioned

“Because she did it in front of us you dummy” Corey said, running out of patience.

Daniel’s hand went over his mouth to muffle his laugh, she wanted to melt on the floor. Corey continued “though, prop to you girl, you did well, proud of ya”

She put a hand on his shoulder “thanks man really appreciate it”

“You should teach my second wife how to do it” he continued

“What happened to your first wife?” She questioned

“That’s not even all, then he pulled you up and kissed you while you literally tasted like his dick, gross” he made a face at them, Daniel was laughing hard, not even trying to hide it, she slid lower on her chair in shame.

“Look no judgment here” Blake pointed out, but that didn’t make her feel better.

“At least was I good?” She asked, cheeks bright red. Daniel gave everyone around the table a “don’t you dare” look and turned to her “I think your sore throat and sore cunt tells you how good you were for me” he said, lips curling into a smirk

“Oh my god, I’m not gonna appear anywhere near any of you for the next decade”

#daniel ricciardo #f1 #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x ofc #daniel ricciardo x reader #mclaren #danny ric #formula 1 #redbull #renault

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moondancediner · 2 years

Text

daydreaming - i

summary: it's hard to run away from your past when your ghosts keep walking through the front door - and Tess Mitchell is no stranger to ghosts

bradley bradshaw x tess mitchell

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swearing, chaotic lovers, small age gap (around 5-6 years), daddy issues, best friends to lovers but it's complicated af and no i will not be apologizing, cliffhanger?

a/n: okay wow this was gonna be a cute little quick thing and it turned into a multiple parter? question mark question mark... idk how many parts but this hoe got away from me real fast she's almost at 10k already...

This was going to be a reader-insert but the character bloomed before my eyes and here's Tess Mitchell she's my fav we love her.

Italics are flashbacks, regular text is present day

Also, Rooster is an ass man you can't change my mind.

masterlist || pt.II

you know, i'll be gone for so long,

so give me all of your love, give me something to dream about

“Rooster,” she whined, turning her back to the pool table and leaning a wobbly hip on its wooden edge to look for her husband, her lips turning slightly downward. She spotted him right away, like a moth to flame it was never hard to miss him.

“Yeah, baby?” The beer bottle dropped from his lips as he looked at her, heart nearly stopping at the sight.

“I need help,” she drunkenly pouted.

“With what, sweetheart?” He hadn’t moved from his spot, the both of them raising their voices across the crowd of friends.

“I forgot how to play pool,” she shrugged, pool stick in hand, the same one she’d been losing with for a good twenty minutes now, “I need you to show me,” and Rooster nearly choked on his beer. He loved drunk Tess.

“Well, it just so happens that I’m a master pool player, my love,”

“Is that so?” She asked, looking up at him. He towered over her, all six delicious feet of him, his own body locking her into her spot.

“Oh, absolutely,” his sly wink sent shivers down her spine. He downed what remained of his beer, setting it on the nearest table before turning back to assess her. “Alright. Righty or lefty?”

“I’m ambidextrous,” it was her turn to wink now.

“Jesus, woman, you’re tryna kill me, you know that?” He placed his hands on her hips while she laughed, turning her around then taking the pool cue out of her hand. “Alright, so put your right hand here, and your left hand here… and then you line up…” His right arm left the cue, circling around her waist, thumb hooking in the belt loop of her shorts as he leaned them both over the table, sweaty bodies gluing together.

The pool table under her body was gone. The people around them were gone. Phoenix, rolling her eyes at the other end of the table, patiently awaiting her turn - gone. All she could think about was his mouth whispering against the shell of her ear.

“Now,” another shiver racked her spine, “are you stripes or solids?” He lowered his voice and it took everything Tess had not to lose her clothes right then and there.

“I… really couldn’t tell you,” because all she could think about was that every inch of him was pressed against every inch of her back and his arm was keeping her ass anchored to his crotch, pinning her between the table and himself. His laugh in her ear was sinful. He stood up straight and she followed him, not willing to risk the loss of contact.

“Phoenix, help me out here,” he asked the girl across the table. Phoenix rolled her eyes, but told him; stripes, and will you hurry up, please? “Alright, baby, here we go,” he leaned the both of them back over, lining up the shot to the correct ball this time, “whenever you’re ready Hotshot,”

The sound of her callsign brought her back to that first night. When he walked through those bar doors, clad in his dad’s Hawaiian shirt not unlike the one he wore tonight.

Tess did a double take when Rooster walked into the bar. She had never met Goose, was born after he died and never had the honor, but from all the pictures she’s seen of him throughout her life, it might as well have been him walking through those doors. Hawaiian shirt, aviator sunglasses, and a smile that screamed trouble.

She thought she’d had enough shock for one day when her father walked through those same doors not too long ago, but here this was.

Her heart nearly stopped. Tess Mitchell was a planner. Things did not simply happen to her. Her life had been out of control for as long as she could remember. Pete Mitchell did not follow anyones rules or schedules, so Tess made her own. He was the only wild card in her life because she allowed him to be. She went to college in a town with no military affiliation, nowhere near a base or a landing strip. And even though she bounced around from town to town, state to state, it was never hard to find a teaching job. Until schools stopped hiring new teachers, and started firing them instead.

Losing her teaching job was a wild card she’d never anticipated - last one hired, first one fired turned out to be more than a cautionary tale- but lucky for her, her dad's old friend Penny Benjamin owned a bar in Miramar and was looking for a new bartender.

And even luckier for her, she didn’t know any naval aviators in the area.

Until now of course.

She knew where Rooster was all the time, kept track of him because nobody else was. And he was not supposed to be here. He was supposed to be overseas, not in Miramar California. Not walking into this bar. Not about to go on whatever dangerous mission Maverick was going to be taking him on.

He rounded the bar, not seeing her, heading straight for the uniformed pilots hanging around the pool table. She noticed Maverick turning his own head away, avoiding Bradley’s eyes and the history that lay there. Their tension settled into Tess’s bones, rattling them further.

“Hey, Hotshot,” Hangman’s voice broke Tess’s trance, “four more on the old timer,” he said, chin nodding towards Maverick across the bar.

She pulled the four bottles out of the fridge, holding them to her chest with one arm before popping all the tops off with the bottle opener in her other hand in quick succession, setting them on the counter in front of the blonde.

“Now I know why they call you Hotshot,” Hangman winked, clearly eyeing her now damp white tank. Tess internally groaned at her choice of outfit, but laundry day and hot weather only left her with so many options.

“Keep dreaming, Hangman,” Tess sent him a wink of her own. He was hot - she wasn’t blind, Jake Seresin was practically a walking Greek god, sculpted by caring, detailed hands - but his ego was far too big for her liking.

And besides, the other half of her heart just walked through those doors.

“They still call you that?” Maverick asked when she had made her way over to his side of the bar again. Tess never joined the Navy or any other branch of the military, but growing up as Pete Mitchell’s daughter meant she learned how to fly a plane at probably a too young age and that she earned a few things she never necessarily wanted. A callsign was practically included in the package.

“I’ll take ‘things you would know if you stayed in contact with your daughter’ for 200 please, Alex,” he had the nerve to laugh at her remark as she swept by him, pouring two shots, handing them to waiting hands and then coming back down to wipe the bar clean. It was unnerving, having him just sitting there as if he hadn’t completely ignored her for almost a year.

“You remember why we started calling you that?”

“Cause I like to show off,” she said cooly, straight faced, still bustling about.

Maverick smiled. He vividly remembered the first time he called her that, nearly lost his mind because she was visiting and he took her to the hangar to see all the aircraft. Turned around for two seconds and she was gone.

He found her quickly, like father like daughter she was drawn to his F/A-14 with all the curiosity a six-year-old could muster. When Mav finally caught up with her she was half way up the ladder to the box, ready to take a ride with her dad. ‘Slow down there, Hotshot.’ He laughed about it with her mom on the phone later that night, after she called to say goodnight, and the nickname just stuck.

“They know you’re teaching?” She asked once she was once again in ear-shot of him, head jerking in the direction of the oblivious naval aviators in the back while she pulled her long black hair into a low ponytail, eyes searching for more of those damn souvenir mugs. Pete noticed how light it had gotten since the last time he saw her - much more of a dark brown than the black it had been for most of her life - and wondered how long she had been hiding out here in the California sun. “Penny! We have any more boxes of those mugs up here?” She called over a shoulder.

“How’d you know I was teaching?”

She smiled. “A woman never reveals her sources.” Tess didn’t need to tell him that a strong pour in the right hands usually got her the answers she was looking for, and then some she wasn’t looking for. She knew about the mission (well, she knew about the vague details she was able to squeeze out of Cyclone), she just didn’t think they were crazy enough to call her father in to lead it.

“How long have you been here?”

Tess smirked. “How was it going Mach 10?”

Maverick’s smile dropped completely. “How did you-“

“I think the rest are in the basement, peach cheeks,” Penny called from the other end of the bar, interrupting her father.

“Aw, damnit,” Tess groaned, looking up to the ceiling, beyond the comical number of model planes and jets and anything else that flew were more souvenir mugs. The bar was decorated with them, but they were just that, decorations… Well, they were supposed to be anyway. She weighed her options and decided that the bar was far too packed for her to make her way to the basement and back in a timely manner.

She couldn’t just leave poor Penny up here by herself, now could she?

“Did she just call you peach cheeks?” Maverick asked, eyeing his old flame, the confusion evident in the way his brows creased slightly in the middle and Tess didn’t know if it was from her question or Penny’s words. Tess stopped for the first time since he’d arrived that night, a half-smile that reminded him so much of his own, and braced both arms on the bartop in front of him.

“About two months ago some drunk creep told me my ass looked like a peach, whatever the fuck that means,” she rolled her green eyes and Pete cursed himself for how much she looked like him right now, “anyway, he ended up paying for a round but now Penny calls me peach cheeks whenever she feels like she wants to annoy me.”

It was the first straight answer she’d given him all night, and he had a feeling it would be the last.

Tess turned, looking to the ceiling again like the light gray mugs were just going to start raining down on her, and when they didn’t she took a minor running start - really it was just a couple steps across the wide end of the bar - and hoisted herself to the top. Black sneakers landed in a spot nobody was occupying at the time and she stood tall - all five feet and four inches of her - before she started grabbing cups from where they hung above her head.

She received a couple whistles for her efforts, but her hands were already too full to flip any of them off, and she was concentrating too hard on not falling when the bell rang again, a little harder than the first time. She paused her movements to watch Hangman and two others she didn’t learn the names of yet walk over to Maverick to toss him out into the sand with a smile.

“Tess?” She whipped around at the sound of his voice, aviators pulled down his nose, eyebrows drawn in in disbelief.

“Hey, Bradshaw,” her smile nearly blinded him.

“Tess Mitchell! What did I tell you about climbing on top of my bar?”

Like the snap of a finger she was that ten year old kid again, getting yelled at for hanging upside down on the monkey bars at the park his mom used to take them too on the weekends and Rooster couldn’t help but smile at the look that came across her face when she was caught red-handed.

“Sorry, Pen, I’ll replace them later, I promise,”

Rooster didn’t waste another second, feet moving to the bartop where she was now sitting. She was at the perfect height for him to slot himself into her body, arms circling her waist, her own arms going around his neck while her legs secured around his hips, squeezing him tight.

He still smelled the same as she remembered, his minty aftershave clouding her every thought and judgment. She wanted to keep her face buried in his neck for the rest of time.

“Hey, Hotshot,” he said the words quietly enough that only she could hear, crushing her body into his. “Damn, how long’s it been?”

“Too long,” Tess pulled away only so she could see him up close and he gently set her down on her feet, keeping his hands on her body. She took his sunglasses off, hanging them on the front of her tank top before putting her hands on either side of his face, inspecting his dark eyes and golden, sun-kissed skin for any more scars than the ones that already riddled his face. “I like the stach,” she nodded her approval and his smile grew impossibly bigger.

“Yeah? Took me two years to grow,”

Her belly laugh had him smiling even bigger. “Shit, I missed you,” Rooster could only shake his head at her, amazed that she was even standing in front of him right now. But the amazement was short lived when the joy in her green eyes turned a dangerous shade of dark he hated being on the receiving end of.

“You idiot,” she landed a firm smack on the side of his head.

“Ow!” He brought a hand up to rub the spot that was sure to be sore in the morning, and he could’ve sworn he heard a few snickering laughs from behind him. “What the hell T?”

“Why didn’t you call me,” it wasn’t a question, it was a stern statement and Bradley couldn’t help but put his hands on her cheeks, mirroring the position she just had him in, a small smile creeping over his lips.

“I just got in, I was going to call you first thing in the morning.”

The sincerity in his voice, the honesty in his eyes nearly melted Tess into a puddle on the dirty bar floor.

“We have one rule, Bradshaw.”

When he lands, he calls. That’s their rule.

“I know, I know, I should’ve called,” his golden eyes danced between her sharp green while they softened. “But, to be fair you didn’t tell me you were working here.”

She simply shrugged, “I told you I was in the area.”

He could only smile.

“What’s your boss's name?” He asked, that little glint of trouble shining through his eyes.

“Penny Benjamin.”

The realization of who she was flashed across his already amused face but he tucked that nugget of information in his back pocket for another day because Tess Mitchell was standing in front of him and he wasn’t stupid enough to waste her time.

“Penny!” He called, ripping his eyes away from her face, “I’m stealing your bartender!”

“Have her back in fifteen!” And that was all he needed to squat down, throw Tess over his shoulder, and carry her away.

“Rooster!” She screeched, hands gripping his shirt as if that would save her if he dared to drop her. “Put me down you big idiot!” But he didn’t listen, and she felt his laugh vibrate on her chest and she tried really hard to think of anything other than the fact that his hand was impossibly close to her ass, clamping down on her bare thighs. And that she was one wrong move away from flashing half the building.

He walked over to the Jukebox, squatted down - which Tess tried, and failed, to not be impressed with - and ripped the cord out of the wall. The crowd voiced their disdain but he didn’t slow down. He sat her down on the bench in front of the piano, stole his sunglasses back and swung his leg around so he was seated behind her.

The bench was small enough that she felt every inch of him behind her, and when he started playing Great Balls of Fire, his fellow pilots all crowding around to sing, Tess leaned back into him, singing along with her whole heart that belonged fully to him.

“Hell yeah, baby, that’s what I’m talking about!” Rooster stood and Tess turned around, high fiving his hand in high before slamming her hand down on his hard ass, him doing the exact same.

“Hmm..” She hummed, looking around her direct area after their celebration, “it appears I have no drink.”

“Well we can’t have that, can we?” Bradley took the cue from her hand, passing it off to Bob before holding out his arm for her to take, “this way my lady.”

“Why thank you kind sir,” Tess looped her arm into his, chin pointed to the sky but his laugh had her breaking and a giggling mess by the time they made it to the bar. Her husband took the chance to once again pin her against his body, both arms coming around to lean on the sticky countertop in front of her, caging her into him.

Tess leaned back into his strong arms, let the back of her head connect with his chest and fall to the side until it hit his shoulder, and his mouth was like a magnet to her skin, finding it, leaving a trail of hot, scratchy kisses down her neck, turning her body into a putty for his hands. His low moans in her ear had her ready to head for the door.

“Come on, let’s just go home,” he whined against her skull, right at the base of her jaw, reading her mind. Everything in her vibrated and hummed in response to him.

“I can’t leave my own birthday party early,” she countered, turning so she could place a kiss on his waiting lips. And then another. And then another.

“What can I get for the birthday girl?” Penny appeared, yelling over the crowd of people.

“Two shots of tequila!” Tess yelled, she turned back to the bar, raising an arm above her head with two fingers held up. Penny quickly looked over her shoulder, confirming with Rooster, who nodded, one quick move of his chin downward - as if he could ever say no to her.

“I’m in for a wild night,” he commented with a smile, remembering the last time she got drunk off Tequila. It didn’t happen often, but when it did the only thing he could do was sit back and enjoy the ride.

“Make it three, Penny,” Maverick appeared next to them, clad in his usual leather jacket.

“Dad!” Tess screamed, ducking under Bradley’s arm so she could hug him, “you made it!”

“Of course, like I’m gonna miss my best girl’s birthday?” He hugged her tight, remembering a time when he couldn’t do such a thing. Too afraid of his own mortality to get close to the best thing to ever happen in his life.

“Here you go guys,” Penny was gone as soon as she arrived, dropping the shots and disappearing. Normally, Tess would be working with her on such a busy Friday night, but apparently there’s a rule around here about working on birthdays - a rule that didn’t exist last year, but Tess knew that was an argument she wouldn’t win.

“Cheers fellas,”

“Cheers my love,” Rooster held up his glass to hers and Mav’s.

“Cheers sweetheart,” Maverick said, clinking their glasses and then tossing his back. Tess was quick to swallow hers down, and even quicker to shove a slice of lime in her mouth, grimacing against the burn down her throat. Tequila was really great until you had to actually do a shot of it. Bradley leaned down to swipe the lime out of her mouth with his own and sucked down whatever juice was left, leaving Tess staring at his mouth in a not-so-subtle way.

“I’m gonna go say hi to everyone,” Mav yelled over the crowd, placing a quick kiss on his daughter's cheek before disappearing into the mass of people, aiming for the rowdy group in the back.

Tess’s eyes found their way back to her husbands face, the way his golden skin glowed in the dim lighting of the bar, sunglasses dripping down his nose, that carefree and confident air he had about him left her breathless on a normal day, but with the alcohol buzzing through her system she was about ready to take his clothes off in the middle of this bar. It’s how he’d always been, ever since she could remember. Cool, calm, collected. Her rock in the middle of a storm.

And so damn good looking. Leaning against the side of the bar, one arm resting on the counter, the other hand tucked securely in her back pocket, keeping her close, eyes roaming the room. She noticed that he did that every couple minutes, checked the perimeter for any disturbances, a habit she was sure he picked up from flying.

“You’re staring,” the left corner of his mouth hiked up an inch and his eyes found their way back to hers. She could only smile back. Caught red handed.

“Do you remember the first time you told me you loved me?” He laughed at her words, remembering exactly the first time those words slipped from his lips.

---

thnks for reading, i love you a whole lot

want more? all you gotta do is ask babes

#bradley bradshaw #rooster #mitchell!reader #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete mitchell #maverick #hangman #jake seresin #penny benjamin #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #rooster x reader

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opal-stars · 2 years

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“She’d laughed, and if he could have bottled the sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have. It terrified him.”

Inej on the window sill + Kaz being in love……… THIS SCENE!! >>>>>

instagram • @opal.stars

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blink182times · 1 year

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“She’d laughed and if he could have bottled the sound and got drunk on it every night, he would have.”

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menofchaos · 2 years

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Coco x Reader

Note: This idea came to me so out of nowhere that I stopped working and missed sleep to write it. The guys head to Vegas, shenanigans ensue. Warning for mentions of being hungover & descriptions of hangover effects. I hope you guys enjoy this story and if so, please let me know.

The first thing she became aware of was the dryness in her mouth. As she woke up, she realized she was pressed against a warm body. She kept her eyes closed as her head pounded. Her stomach swam uneasily and her legs were sore. She slowly opened her eyes to see messy black hair and a Mayans tattoo.

Coco. Thank god.

Her arm was around his waist and their fingers were tightly intertwined. She lifted her head to find they were in their hotel but the room was way bigger. Nicer. Trashed, but nicer. She looked behind her, wincing at the bright light from between half closed curtains.

“Stop moving or get up. I’m gonna be fuckin sick.”

Coco’s voice was rough with sleep but he didn’t move from his position. She slowly got up, grabbing a pair of sunglasses from the nightstand and shutting the curtains.

She looked around the room and grabbed a cup off the coffee table, taking a tentative sip. She finished off what was thankfully water and sat in the arm chair.

“What do you need?” she asked, her eyes widening at her own raspy tone.

“Death,” he grumbled from under the comforter.

She huffed out a laugh at her dramatic boyfriend before looking around the room. Her heels were at the foot of the bed, her dress in the middle of the floor. Their bags were near the front door, neatly packed. She looked down to find Coco’s flannel covering her upper body, fingertip shaped bruises littered her inner thighs. Drunk Coco was always rough, making her shiver at the thought of the soreness between her legs. A tie she didn’t recognize was thrown over an askew lamp shade. Coco’s kutte was laying perfectly flat on the dresser, the rest of his clothes in a pile on the floor.

A white folder sat in the middle of the coffee table next to a tiara. She frowned and before she could open it, Coco abruptly stood up. Her eyes widened, “You okay?”

He beelined into the bathroom and a moment later, she heard the unmistakeable sound of throwing up. She took a deep breath before pushing herself to stand. Slowly, she made her way to their bags and found the ibuprofen she’d packed. She grabbed a bottle of water from the case on the floor, then slipped into the bathroom.

Coco was kneeling in front of the toilet, holding his hair back as he panted. She took her own hair down and tied his in a messy bun at the base of his neck.

“Thanks,” he breathed.

She sat down next to him, “I got some water if you need it,” she rubbed his back gently.

He nodded, coughing. She kissed his clammy shoulder as he took a shaky breath.

“Done?” she checked and he nodded again, glancing around before grabbing the bottle of water.

He spit a mouthful of water out before taking a long drink, finishing half the bottle, “Where the fuck are we?”

She shook her head, “Not sure. Did we break into this room?”

He huffed out a laugh, “No idea.”

She laid back on the cool tile, “I either need to eat the whole buffet or never eat again.”

“Where’s my phone?” he asked, squeezing her ankle gently.

“Probably in your pants?” she guessed, “Pills are on the counter.”

She closed her eyes and listened as he got up, finishing up and brushing his teeth. He took the pills and walked out, adjusting his boxers.

“Huh,” he cleared his throat, “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Gilly texted. Said they all wanna have breakfast if we’re done celebrating. What the fuck are we celebrating?” he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what we’re celebrating or if you’re okay?” he asked.

“I might still be drunk,” she admitted, “Both.”

After they both showered and got dressed, she was pulling her shoes on when Coco found a card on the dresser in front of a flower arrangement. He frowned.

“I don’t think this is our room,” he said when she stood up.

“What do you mean?”

He brought the card over to her, white and gold with elegant cursive.

Congratulations to the newlyweds! Thank you for choosing the Flamingo for your honeymoon.

“Jesus,” she murmured, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“The casino, Angel’s dumb ass won that jackpot then lost it,” he set the card down, “You?”

She wrinkled her nose, “We went to a casino? The last thing I remember was the strip club.”

Coco grabbed a room key, “Let’s go eat and see what the idiots can tell us. Then we’ll figure this out. Ready?” she nodded, “Are you taking off the sunglasses?” she shook her head. Coco laughed softly and took her hand, leading her downstairs to the breakfast buffet.

The elevator ride was quiet as she rested her head on Coco’s shoulder, his arms around her waist. He led her toward the buffet, both of them taking a few small portions. She held their plates as Coco made coffee.

“They’re on the patio,” he told her, kissing her head when she whined. She followed him outside, frowning when the whole table erupted in applause.

“There they are,” Angel laughed, “How was the rest of your night?”

Coco set the cups down and pulled her chair out, “We’re still putting it together.”

Gilly laughed, “Fuck yeah, man. Last night was insane. I can’t believe you guys did it.”

“Jesus, what did we do now?” she asked after taking a sip of coffee.

The table quieted down and Coco frowned, “What?”

EZ tilted his head to the side, “Bro, for real?”

“We don’t all have a photographic memory, Boy Scout,” Coco hissed, “What the fuck happened?”

Gilly snorted, “That’s fucking classic. Look at your left hand, dumbass.”

Coco’s retort fell silent when she looked at her left hand to find the letter J tattooed on her ring finger, wrapped in clear plastic. In a panic, she looked over at Coco to find her own initial on his finger. She immediately remembered the word Chapel from the white folder and covered her mouth.

“You guys don’t remember that you got fucking married?” Angel cackled, shaking his head with a grin when Coco glared daggers at him.

“I uh…” she got up and walked back inside, her hands shaking. She made it to the elevator when she realized she didn’t have a room key or her wallet. Her heartbeat was so loud, she didn’t hear Coco calling her name.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asked.

She pushed her sunglasses up, “I just…I needed a minute.”

He nodded and sighed, “I get it.”

They stood in silence for a moment, avoiding eye contact.

“Do you…wanna go back to the table?” he asked.

Before she could answer, her stomach grumbled loudly. She giggled, “I guess we should.”

Coco smiled and kissed her head, “We’ll figure it out later, right?” he reminded her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She nodded, heading back to the table with him.

Breakfast continued with roasting the two of them, Gilly, EZ, and Angel’s flavor of the week filling in the missing pieces. The tie and tiara were from the chapel, the folder contained the marriage license and certificate. The room was a free upgrade from the hotel after the group stumbled in from the chapel next door, shouting about their newly married friends. EZ helpfully informed them that it was completely legal since the chapel filed the license for them.

After breakfast, the group split up with plans to meet back up at the pool. Their room was mostly silent as they changed, both of them opening the folder to see their names and signatures on the paperwork.

“We wrote pretty good for being obliterated,” Coco teased, making her smile.

She changed into a black one piece, diamond shaped pieces cut out on either of her sides. She tied a white, sheer wrap around her waist before following Coco out, towels stuffed into a beach bag. She laid out on a lounger next to Angel’s girl, listening as the boys wrecked havoc in the pool.

“So are you guys gonna stay married?”

She looked over at the other woman, Stephanie maybe, who probably won’t be around long enough for the beach trip the guys were planning at breakfast.

“We haven’t really had a chance to talk about it,” she admitted.

Stephanie smiled easily, “I’m sure you will. Coco loves you and I know his daughter adores you too. You can tell when they look at you.”

Angel came up and sat on her lounge chair, ending the conversation and pulling Stephanie’s attention. She looked away from them and out into the water. Coco was laughing, his head thrown back and his hand on his tattooed chest. His long hair was down, pool water dripping down his back.

The truth was she had no idea if they would stay married. She was well aware of his past, his issues and everything that came along with having Johnny Coco Cruz as a partner. The last time they had discussed marriage, he had barely been indifferent. He had no plans to get married unless he was absolutely sure and Letty approved. He wasn’t in a rush either.

“Just a piece of paper to me, mami,” he’d said over dinner, casually sipping a beer.

But she loved him. And she wanted to get married. Getting an annulment was a very real possibility and she wasn’t sure she could handle Coco not wanting to marry her. She was quiet all day, blaming her hangover when asked. Coco hadn’t say a word about their drunken marriage since breakfast.

Before she knew it, the sun had gone down and they were back in their rooms. They were getting ready for another night out, their last night before they headed back home. She stood in the mirror, a black and gold dress wrapped around her body and a pair of black heels encased her feet. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail with two curled pieces framing her face.

As she finished fixing her lipstick, Coco came up behind her and touched her hips. His long black hair was in two braids and he wore a black tank top under his kutte, which was her favorite look. She leaned back against his chest when he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered, their eyes locked in the mirror.

“We look good together,” she murmured as nerves twisted in her stomach.

His hand came up to hold her chin, “What are we gonna do about this pout?”

She shook her head and gently broke away from his arms, “It’s my hangover. Once we get to the bar, I’ll be fine,” she moved to the dresser to put her things in her clutch.

“So you can start drinking and stop worrying about annulments and shit?”

Her eyes widened and she looked up slowly at him, his dark eyes on her. He smiled softly.

“I know you, querida,” he closed the gap between them and took her hands, wrapping them around his neck, “I know why you’ve been quiet all day.”

“Why didn’t you say anything then?” she mumbled as he rubbed her hips.

He laughed softly, “At first I thought it really was your hangover but they don’t usually last all day. I just didn’t think this talk should be in front of the guys. It’s nobody else’s business.”

She nodded as he swayed them gently, butterflies filling her stomach, “So…what do you think?”

He reached back up, pulling her left hand to his lips, “I just hope your ring doesn’t cover this tattoo.”

She froze, unable to look away from his teasing smile, “My what?”

“Your ring,” he repeated, kissing her hand again before letting it go, “It’s in the room at home.”

“My ring?” her voice cracked as tears clouded her vision, “You have a ring?”

Coco wiped a thumb under her eye, careful not to smudge her make up, “I love you,” he whispered, “Letty couldn’t see her life without you. Us. So yeah,” he laughed softly, “I bought you a ring and I was waiting for…I don’t know,” he shrugged, “The right moment, I guess.”

“You didn’t seem like you cared about getting married,” she sniffled.

“I didn’t,” he admitted, “But you did. And I’d do anything to make you happy.”

She pouted, “Corny,” she teased.

Coco laughed, “Yeah, well, you make me corny,” he kissed her softly, “So, what do you think?”

“I think Letty’s gonna be pissed that she missed our wedding,” she whispered, kissing him again.

“We’ll throw a party and she’ll forgive us,” he murmured, smiling as he kissed her, “Mrs. Cruz.”

She felt her skin heating up, “Say it again.”

He laughed and took her hand, “We gotta go, Mrs. Cruz,” he led her to the door, grinning mischievously, “Let’s see if we can get Angel and Nails drunk enough to get married.”

#coco x reader #coco cruz imagine #mayans imagine #mayans mc #johnny coco cruz #coco cruz

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