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jungle-angel · 5 months

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The Cowboy's Christmas Gift (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Rhett gets an unexpected surprise when he comes in one day

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only), kinky bedroom shenanigans, a whole lotta kinks etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @sebsxphia

"You're sure we've got everything we need?" Rhett asked his father as they drove back home through the snow that had begun to fall.

"Rhett I checked, double checked and checked again after that," Royal told him. "Trust me, we've got everything."

"Everything?"

Royal was trying to hide the cheeky grin as he pulled a little something out of the brown paper bag between the seats, a bottle of Grand Marnier to make mimosas. Rhett went bug-eyed, his jaw dropping upon realizing what it was.

"No fuckin way!" he laughed.

"Yep," Royal told him. "Your mother and I will most likely be plastered Christmas Day so we're gonna need that 'do not disturb' sign ya'll made for when you and (y/n) stayed at the hotel after ya'll got married."

"UUUUGH!!!" Rhett groaned, completely disgusted at the image Royal had put into his head.

"Will ya'll relax?" he said. "Wouldn't be the first time we caught each other after the bedroom shenanigans."

Rhett made a gagging noise as they pulled into the driveway and followed Royal into the house. Royal and Cecelia had decided to take Amy, Hannah and the boys out to do some last minute Christmas shopping, leaving Rhett to his own devices and wouldn't be back till dark.

He flopped onto your shared bed and tried to put that image out of his mind but it didn't do any good at all. Only when he felt a set of hands rubbing across his shoulders did he forget it, albeit for a few seconds.

"Darlin?" he asked. "Whatcha doin?"

"Nothing," you purred, kissing his cheek.

"You sure?" he chuckled.

"Got a little surprise for you," you told him.

"Good because I really need to forget what just happened on the ride back."

You scrunched your eyebrows together, unsure of what he meant. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah until Dad put a nasty image in my head of him and Ma."

"UUUGH!" you groaned.

Rhett chuckled a little.

"Oh yeah," you concluded. "You definitely need it then. Wait here and I'll be right back."

He didn't have to wait too long, but the moment you emerged from the bathroom wearing a devilishly red lace slip, he somehow managed to forget most of what happened in the last half hour.

"Merry Christmas Cowboy," you purred, twirling your hair a little.

"Holy fuck," Rhett hissed.

"Oooh, didn't your mama ever tell you that swearing will get you on Santa's naughty list?" you teased.

You yelped a little when you felt his hands grab your hips and pull you in. "Don't tease me darlin," he chuckled. "Cuz I made that list a looooong time ago."

You threw your head back and laughed, even as he kissed your stomach and trailed along your thighs, his lips warm against your chilly skin. You let out a bit of a moan when his head roamed up the skirt of your slip, leaving wet, sloppy little kisses along your folds.

"Aw shit, what are you up to now?" you laughed when you felt his teeth tugging on your panties.

You felt an embarrassing heat rising into your cheeks when he pulled your matching underwear down to your ankles, leaving plenty of room for you to step out of them. Rhett released them from his teeth and into his hand, balling them up and throwing them into the laundry basket near the adjoining bathroom door.

"Alright Missy," he teased. "This reindeer needs a good ridin."

He fervently kissed you as your deft hands slipped up the back of his shirt and pulled it off in one go, the two of you never once breaking the kiss. Rhett helped you with his belt and then his jeans until his shorts were the last thing to come off, his monster hard-on practically flinging itself from the threads.

Rhett fell backwards with you on top of him, guiding your hips onto the throbbing stiffness that awaited your center. "Oh darlin, there we go," he groaned. "Good girl........aw honey ya'll just take me so well don't you?"

A rather unladylike moan fell from your lips as his cock went deeper and deeper in. You and Rhett worked together with each other's rhythms, rubbing against each other and feeling and immense amount of pleasure as the unholy moaning from you both rose and fell in different pitches, echoing throughout the room.

You moaned the loudest when you felt that hot, liquidy bursting between your legs, the both of you falling against each other and your heads clouded by the sensations you had just experienced together.

"Feel better Rhett?" you asked him.

"Oh I feel fuckin perfect darlin," he chuckled.

"Good," you said, kissing his cheek. "Because at any rate I think we'll need to go for round two if everybody's still out of the house and assuming those nasty images are still there."

"Believe me sweetheart," he said. "I'm hell bent on havin'em fucked outta me if you are."

"Challenge accepted, Cowboy," you purred, kissing him again.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range

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lizzie-is-here · 1 year

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Can I request a Christmas Peter parkerX female reader with prompt 44

christmas event!

character: peter parker x fem! reader

prompt: “keep doing that, and you’ll end up on the naughty list”

warnings: cussing, bucky threatening sam, uh a little spicy 😳, it’s just making out but like 😳😳😳

a/n: akskkddk yesssss this is such a cute idea i love it sm 🥺 thank u for requesting it 🫶 if anyone wants to request, see the event rules here! hope u all enjoy and happy holidays!!!

Being in a relationship with Peter was everything you could want.

He was polite but not uptight, kind but not one of those “nice guys”. He got you flowers every week or so, accompanied by a sweet, handwritten letter. He helped you study, opened doors, and blushed every time you gave him even the most chaste of kisses in the hallway.

You and him started dating sophomore year, and now that you were seniors, you’d cemented yourselves as the longest-lasting couple at Midtown Tech.

This is your third Christmas together, and the last one you’ll have in high school. You’re pondering all this as you walk to his apartment, shivering every now and then in the Manhattan cold.

It’s been a little over a week since you last saw him. The beginning of break was hectic, and then he had a training camp up at the Avengers’ Compound.

Today is his first day back, and you’re more than willing to brave the cold walk.

When you finally make it up the endless stairs and knock on the door, you’re greeted by May. She’s opened the door with her foot, evidently, In each hand is a tray of cookies, and the warm smells of baking waft around you.

“Oh, hey, (Y/N).” She smiles, welcoming you in. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good, just glad that finals are over and done with. You?”

May gestures to the kitchen. It’s messy in the best way. Plates of baked goods are scattered around, and flour dusts the counter in odd spots. “Been busy.” She nods back further into the apartment with a wink. “Peter’s in his room.”

He doesn’t hear you come in, to your surprise. His Bluetooth speaker is blasting Christmas music so loud it might be damaging his phone, and he’s awkwardly shuffling around the room in what could be a dance. You’re not sure.

You watch for a bit, grinning as your boyfriend obliviously mouths along to Mariah Carey’s whistle tones.

“Hey, babe,” you finally say. Peter jumps and trips over himself a bit before catching his balance. He turns down his music before opening his arms wide for you.

You oblige the invitation for a hug, burying your face in his shoulder. The smell of vanilla lingers on his sweatshirt, and… is that peppermint?

“I thought you hated peppermint,” you mumble into his neck. “It’s like, a spider thing, right?”

Peter shrugs. “Yeah, but May needed help with crushing the candy canes. I couldn’t leave her hanging.”

“Aww,” you coo. “You’re so sweet.”

He hums and his grin widens a bit. “Speaking of sweet things-” He gently pulls you in for a kiss, and you can taste the remnants of cookies. No doubt May made him her personal taste-tester for the day.

Peter breaks the kiss for air. “So-”

Before he can say anything else, you tug him back in, backing up a bit to gently kick the door shut. The music from the kitchen is loud, but you’ll take the precaution. He chuckles into your mouth.

“I’m guessing you missed me?” he asks. You swat at his shoulder before pressing your lips to his jaw, tracing the defined line.

“Of course, I did, dumbass,” you whisper, trailing more kisses down his neck. “‘M gonna have to start taking up Tony’s offer to come with you for training camps.”

Your boyfriend exhales through his nose, trying to ignore the fact that your very cold hands are toying with the edge of his sweatshirt.

“Y’know, it’s not fair that you can call him Tony. I can’t manage to call him anything but ‘Mr. Stark’,” he grumbles. Despite his pouting, his own hands start running up and down your back.

His hands are a warm welcome from the chill still clinging to you. But you still shiver when his fingers graze over your ribs.

Whining, you furrow further into his arms as if it’ll make you less cold. Or less flustered.

Peter continues, kissing the top of your head innocently as he starts to lift your top.

“Keep doing that, and you’ll end up on the naughty list,” you chuckle breathlessly. He laughs back.

“Was that supposed to be snarky or hot?” he asks. You shrug.

“Whichever you prefer.”

The two of you stare directly at each other for about 12 seconds before breaking out into laughter. He kisses you again before tripping on his backpack and sending you both tumbling onto his bed.

You lay in silence for a bit, enjoying the closeness and the way the snow flurries outside the window.

Then Peter starts kissing along your neck. You’re just about to yank his shirt off right then and there when the door bursts open.

“Hey, Underoos.The team’s all here and- HOLY SHIT.”

It’s Tony fucking Stark himself, dressed in the fugliest Christmas sweater you’ve ever seen.

It’s clearly from Walmart, evidenced by the tag still attached. A jagged hole is cut in the center to make the arc reactor in his chest the star atop the offending, bright-green tree.

You fling Peter off so quickly he flies off the bed, yanking down your shirt from where it rode up.

“Uh, hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter greets sheepishly. Before the billionaire can respond, more people appear.

“How’s the kid-“ Sam Wilson begins, and when he freezes in the doorway at the scene before him, is knocked over by a certain super-soldier that didn’t see him stop.

Sam catches himself before eating shit on the hard floor, elbowing Bucky with a smirk.

“Hey, how does it feel knowing that a teenage nerd has more game than you?” he asks.

“I’m going to kill you with a Christmas ornament.”

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #spiderman #christmas event #lizzie’s christmas event #request #event

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right-brain-of-froggy2 · 2 years

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Christmas in July Chapter 7

Day 7 is here! Prepare the milk, because today is all about cookies with Wonderful Christmastime.

A little author’s note: The Tracy cookie baking day is based on my (and Froggy One’s) own family's tradition of exactly this story. We get up really early, our grandparents, aunts/uncles, and some cousins come over and we bake cookies from dawn until night. Once everything is finished around 9PM, we distribute them amongst ourselves and make up plates multiple kinds for other family members. And all the ones listed are real ones we make too! Writing this today really made me crave some Christmas cookies...

Ao3 link here!

“I’m gonna die of hunger, Mama.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“Really. You won’t see me ever again ‘cept in the ground. Dead. ‘Cause you won’t feed me.”

“I don’t want you dead, Scotty!”

“At least Virge cares…”

Lucy pats on a sulking Scott’s head as she whisks the eggs and sugar together for the next batch of cookies. Her oldest son does not appear amused.

“We just ate lunch an hour ago.”

“And an hour ago we didn’t have those!”

Scott points directly to the oven where the Andes Mint cookies are baking. Virgil immediately copies his older brother. Being only three means copying his brothers in the most entertaining thing in the entire world. Scott smacks down Virgil’s hand so he’s the only one pointing. Having a glass front oven is tantalizing thing for a little boy with an endless stomach.

“You’ve already had five cookies, Scott. Give your stomach a break.”

Her little boys pout and whine to no avail. She’s not breaking her stance on this one.

The Andes Mint cookies finish in the oven, and she has to nudge Scott and Virgil out of the way. Lucy places perfectly sized dollops of cocoa dough on a fresh baking sheet. Despite telling Scott no to more cookies, even she can’t resist those baby blue eyes staring up at her. She hands off the now empty bowl with bits of raw batter still stuck to the sides to Scott and Virgil.

Raw cookie dough is an even better treat than the cookies themselves. Virgil especially enjoys running his finger along the edge of the cool glass bowl to scoop up any leftover dough.

She waves a dirty spatula at Scott trying to sneak bites of the cooling cookies behind them. “That’s all you’re getting for a while, Scott Carpenter. Go find your Dad.”

Scott has lost interest with the definite answer of no more cookies and runs to find where Dad and John have gotten to. Virgil takes up his abandoned perch on a chair by the kitchen island.

Lucy peers into the oven as the cocoa cookies are halfway done baking. The Rolos in the center of each are melting down in perfect gooey blobs. Little bubbles of caramel pop as the chocolate of the Rolos melt further in the cookies’ dough.

“Well, Virgil, it’s just you and me now.”

“You ‘n me.”

“Which ones do you want to make up next?”

She flips through the homemade book of recipes, handwritten by her own grandmother, her mother, and now by Lucy herself with a few of the Tracy’s own recipes sprinkled into the book. There are certainly plenty to choose from. Some like the oatmeal cookies have to be refrigerated overnight (Jeff’s favorite: he already made up the batter late last night) while others like the Oreo balls have to sit in the freezer for a few hours. Sure, they aren’t all the typical Christmas cookies, but each one holds a special memory in the Tracy family hearts.

Virgil turns the pages intently as if he’s reading the cursive handwriting of each recipe. He stops at a recipe and points to it.

“This one.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes!”

“It’s a lemon cookie.”

“I like lemon.”

“No you don’t, Virgil. Lemons are the yellow fruits.”

“Icky. Only Daddy and John like those.”

Lucy pokes her nose into Virgil’s hair to earn a giggle. She turns the pages, finding a recipe better suited for Vigil. Making the cookies means sneaking bits of the batter with no repercussions. “How about these? New twist cookies?”

Virgil’s eyes light up like the kid he’s going to be on Christmas. He reaches for the nearest clean bowl to start mixing. Lucy takes that as a yes.

The timer for the Rolo cookies will go off in five minutes or so; and then, they still have two more trays of raw cookies to bake. That should give Lucy enough time to make the new twist cookies while corralling a toddler. The new twist cookies are her grandmother’s take on chocolate chip cookies: a cookie bar topped with a brown sugar meringue that’s to die for.

Lucy measures out each ingredient and hands it to Virgil to dump into the bowl. He mixes up the base of the bar, pausing only to pour in the ingredients his mom gives him. By the time Virgil’s chubby little hands are packing down the cookie bar base in a ceramic dish, the Rolo cookies are done. Lucy passes over the rationed amount of chocolate chips to sprinkle out over the dough while she gets the next batch in the oven. While the first batch is now cooling, Lucy throws the next set of pans in to bake.

“Look, Mama!”

Virgil is all smiles as he shows her the unevenly spread chocolate chips.

“That looks so yummy, Virge! Good job!”

Oh well. John’s not the biggest fan of chocolate anyways; maybe she can cut him one of those pieces devoid of any chocolate chips. They move on to the meringue topping to finish off the cookie bars before putting them in line to bake.

The Christmas music playing softly in the background is drowned out as she whips up the eggs in the bowl to a stiff peak. She carefully mixes in the brown sugar and a splash of vanilla once the eggs are able to stand on their own. Her finger swiped a dollop from the edge of the bowl. Virgil’s own are plugging his ears against the beater’s loud noise. A smile comes to her lips as the flavor is exactly what she’s looking for.

Yup, tastes just like Grandma’s.

The next step is to layer it carefully over the chocolate chips and base. With practiced flourish, Lucy smooths out the meringue with swirls. The timer dings and Lucy swaps the Rolo cocoa cookies and the bars.

She looks over to the second card table set up against the wall of the living room open to the dining room. All the extra ingredients are laid out in neat rows and groups. Extra bags of flour and sugar are here, some butter left out to soften next to the baking powder, molasses there. The odd ingredients like peppermint chips, apricot jam, and lemon cake mix are farther to the back of the table. John’s been put in charge of organizing every year and takes his job very seriously.

Virgil yawns. She helps him off the chair with instructions to find his dad to help him clean up for a nap. As Virgil leaves he passes by Scott. Her eldest son wanders back into the dining room to stand by her side. A mess of incriminating cookie crumbs line his lips.

He reaches for molasses and jar of freshly ground ginger to hand to her. Gingersnaps are one of Scott’s favorites, and always a classic.

“Just how many cookies did Daddy let you eat?”

Scott shrugs. “A few.”

At the sound of John Lennon’s “Wonderful Christmastime”, Lucy can’t even find herself to be mad. If anything, she’ll make Jeff deal with the sugar crashing children and clean the whole kitchen while she goes to bed early. Now that’s a pleasant thought. Lucy helps Scott get out the first scoop of molasses.

Baking cookies and singing along to Christmas music, who could ever be unhappy doing that?

. . .

“Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” is playing in the background as Lucy takes small amounts of the thickened pineapple mixture sweetened with sugar and plops them in the center of the shortbread dough. Armed with a plastic cutter, John trims the square pieces of dough so they could be folded up into star shapes. Lucy instructs her middle son on how to fold up the dough to resemble a pinwheel star.

Looking at the time, she realizes that it’s already nearing five in the evening. The whole family’s been helping bake, but she’s been in here all day for over ten hours after starting at six this morning. She deserves a breather. Lucy washes her hands at the sink overflowing with dirty dishes that are soaking with soap. While she had been washing the spatulas and bowls all through the day, it would only take minutes before they would be in use again for some other cookie recipe.

Jeff popped by in the kitchen around two to start his ‘world famous chili’ supper so she didn’t have to cook. (Read: Jeff and Scott dumped in cans of beans and tomatoes and mixed it with seasonings, peppers, and cooked ground beef from two nights ago). Either way, Lucy’s relieved to not have to make dinner tonight.

“I think this is the last batch, Johnny,” Lucy says, hands on her hips as she surveys the damage to the kitchen.

“I counted all the others. We made so many!”

“Did you count the tallies too?”

John nods. Each person is meant to keep track of how many cookies they eat to get an exact count in the end. He leans in lose to whisper to his mom. “Scotty ate eleven!”

“That child…” Lucy shakes her head and leans in close to John. “Well… how many total then?”

“Um…” John takes a moment to think. He then pulls out a piece of paper with crayon scribbled on it with a neater number written blow in pen. “Daddy helped me. We have seven hundred and two total cookies!”

Pineapple, Andes mint, snickerdoodles, pecan tassies, Oreo balls, fudge, jam thumbprint, gingersnap, lemon, snowcaps, plain chocolate chip, new twist chocolate chip- they made every type of cookie imaginable and more. So many more. Every year, Lucy forgets that one family is even capable of making that many cookies.

The oven dings. The last of the pineapple cookies are finally done baking. Lucy takes them out and allows herself to collapse down into the living room couch. John follows her straight to the couch. He climbs up and sits in his mom’s lap.

“Done already?”

Lucy shoots Jeff the stink eye as he trudges in from outside. He pulls down the mask from his face.

“You’re tracking snow everywhere.”

Jeff looks down at his coat wet with freshly melted snowflakes. Scott trapezes in with his own coat wet and nose red.

“It’s just water, Mama! We learned it in science class,” Scott clarifies. John nods seriously from her lap.

“Well, whatever it is, go hang your coats up and dry off. You and Daddy are on plating duties. We’ll eat supper and then drive these cookies out to people. We can even start with Grandma Sally and Grandpa Grant if you want.”

Scott and John whoop with excitement.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy #lucille tracy #christmas in july #christmas #christmas cookies

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libraryofloveletters · 3 years

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Prompt: Buck and Reader are dating (maybe even engaged) before buck joins 118. Buck doesn't tell about reader at anyone in the station. Eddie could already be part of 118. And then buck gets hurt or something and they meet reader. Athena loves her and then can we have a scene of buck&reader with the fire kids.

Emergency Contact

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of hospitals and injuries, a mention of pregnancy

Category: Angst and fluff

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: Italics is a flashback :)

----

A house fire, a normal occurrence for the 118. They arrive, Buck and Eddie make their way through the house whilst Hen and Chim tend to the others. The family that lived there, the Smiths, couldn't find their daughter outside and figured she was still inside so they had gone in to find her.

Buck and Eddie had spilt up when they got inside, Buck going left and Eddie going right. Eddie had found the little girl and managed to get her out of the house, her parents were grateful that he brought her back to them.

“Where’s Buck ?” Bobby turns to Eddie.

Eddie glances around, unsure as to where his friend was. “I thought he was right behind me, I swear I saw him on the stairs”

Bobby radioed, “Buckley, come in”

Before they could get an answer, there was a loud crash from inside the house. Eddie and Bobby run back in to see Buck on the floor of the kitchen, the ceiling had a massive hole in it and he was covered in dust. Buck tries to sit up a little too fast but falls onto his back. It seems like the floor had given out under him and he had fallen through.

“Buck?” Eddie calls to him, checking his pupils. “Yeah, definite concussion,” he tugs on Buck’s coat, feeling his abdomen area. “At least 2 broken ribs, if not more.” Eddie looks up at their captain, his hand still gently feeling Buck’s abdomen.

Bobby comes over, grabbing Buck’s feet as Eddie sits Buck up carefully and loops his arms under his. The two men carry him out, Chimney rolling a stretcher over to them. From that point, Hen and Chim took over, checking his vitals and if they had missed any other fractions or broken bones. The ambulance pulled off first, Chimney in the driver’s seat and Hen in the back with Buck. The firetruck followed, both vehicles headed to the hospital.

---

“Did anyone call Maddie ?” Hen breaks the silence filled waiting room. Bobby looks up at her, Hen speaks again, “she is his emergency contact, isn't she?”

Something about that didn’t sound right to Bobby. He hadn’t been there when Buck started as a probie but he had gone over everyones forms when he became captain. He can’t remember who Buck’s emergency contact was but he didn’t think it was Maddie.

“Does anyone have her number ?” Bobby asks, no one answers. “I’m gonna head back to the station, I'll give her a call and come back. If anything changes, let me know?” Eddie answers with a yeah and Bobby heads out.

Once he arrived back at the station, he searched through the drawers of files - which truthfully, should be organized better, but that was a problem for another time. Once finding the file, his finger runs down the page. Maddie’s name was on the form but as a secondary contact. y/n l/n was the name listed as primary contact so he called this mystery woman. She answers after the first 2 rings.

“Hi, is this y/n?”

“It is, who’s this?”

“I’m captain Bobby Nash with the 118.”

“What can I do for you, captain ?”

“You’re listed as Evan’s primary emergency contact.” there was a pause in the conversation, the line had gone silent.

“Yeah, is he alright ?” the woman’s voice returns.

“He fell through the floor during a call today. He has a concussion and a few broken ribs- one of the ribs seems to have punctured a lung and he’s in surgery now. I was calling to notify you, we’re at the hospital if you’d like to join us”

“Thank you for calling, I'll be there soon” and with that, she hung up. Bobby still had no idea who this woman was or how she knew Buck. The lack of emotion in the call didn’t help him gauge who it might be. He pushed the thought from his mind and called Maddie - surely whoever this y/n woman was, was obviously important to Buck if she was listed before Maddie but Maddie was his sister and she deserved to know so he called her anyways.

When Bobby returned back, Buck was still in surgery. He sat down just as Athena arrived. A box of donuts in one hand and one of those huge containers of coffee in the other, Bobby got up and helped her, not before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You didn’t have to come by,” he tells her as he sets the thing of coffee on the table in the middle of the room, she gives him a small smile. “Buck might be trouble but he’s still one of ours. I’d show up for any of them, you know that” she nudges him with her shoulder softly, he smiles at her once more. Everyone gets up, helping themselves to the coffee and donuts that Athena brought- they all thanked her as they all know the horrors of hospital food.

A woman walks in, she’s at the nurses desk which is across from where the team sat. She’s asking for Evan Buckley and the nurse points her in the direction of the team in the waiting room. She approaches, her hands shoved in her sweater pocket- rather Buck’s sweater pocket. Bobby had seen him show up to work in that very sweater a few days before.

“You must be y/n” Bobby stands, his hand stretched out to her.

“I am, you’re Bobby, right ?” your hand comes out to reach his, shaking it. It didn’t take long for Bobby to notice the large diamond on your ring finger. Your hand lets go of his, returning to its spot in your pocket. Bobby gives you a small smile which you mirror.

“Everyone, this is y/n. Buck’s- sorry, I didn’t ask. How do you know Buck?” Bobby asks you, you glance around the room. Everyone's eyes were on you.

“I’m Buck’s-”

“Y/n!” a woman calls for you. Turning around, you see Maddie approaching you. “Mads!” your arms open as she gets closer. She embraces you in a hug, your hand rubbing up and back her back.

“Did you hear anything yet ?” she asks you, letting you go. Shaking your head, “I just got here”

“You know her too ?” Chimney pipes up from his chair, Maddie looks over at him. “Yeah, obviously. She’s Buck’s fiancee” she tells him, the entire room goes silent.

You look over at your sister in law, “they didn’t know that yet Mads” chuckling, you pat her back before taking a seat across from a woman in a police uniform. Maddie’s eyes went wide, her mouth slightly opened in shock. “Sorry! I thought you told them” she says, sitting beside Chimney. “I was about too but you called for me”

Everyone’s attention is on you, the woman sitting across from you speaks up. “Well, it’s nice to meet you” she says, “I’m Athena, Bobby’s wife” she introduces herself.

“Ah, so the whole family’s in law enforcement huh ?” you smile, Athena chuckles. “Seems like it. What do you do ?”

“I’m a nurse over at General”

“I thought I had seen you somewhere before” Athena smiles.

The room goes back to quiet, the team talking amongst themselves. Maddie sat beside you and on her other side was Chimney, you had seen him for the pictures Maddie showed you when she started seeing him. Beside him was a woman, she wore glasses and had a friendly smile- Hen. Buck had told you about her and her wife, they seemed like nice people. Sitting beside Hen was a man, cute with somewhat of a resting bitch face- that was Eddie, Buck’s best friend. Buck practically lived at his house when you worked night shifts and you had also seen a million and one photos of his son, Christoper, who was the sweetest little boy on the planet from what you had heard.

Your hand rested on your lap, your thumb pushing and pulling the engagement ring on your finger back and forth.

“He must really love you because that’s one hell of a rock” Athena was pacing the room and was now beside you, her hand reaching for yours to take a closer look at the ring. You laugh, “it is, isn't it?”

“I have to ask, how long have you two been engaged ? Because he’s never mentioned you.”

“Oh I know,” you hum, “we like to keep things low key but um, it’s been 2 years since we got engaged. We aren't really in a rush to get married.” you tell her.

“2 years? That’s a long time to keep a secret like that”

“Yeah, it’s been a challenge- but it’s not like he didn’t want to tell you guys. He just didn’t know how. Oh you know how he is- actions over words.”

You and Athena talk a bit more, she tells you how Bobby proposed to her on Christmas Eve. She showed you a picture from when they got married- her own massive ring adorning her finger. You told her about how Buck proposed to you.

“Babe! The pancakes are going to get cold!” you shouted for your boyfriend from the kitchen of your apartment.

“I’m coming woman! Calm down” he shouts back, his footsteps coming closer with each step.

Buck had the weekend off and so did you- a rare occurrence for the two of you. You decided that instead of going out to get breakfast like you normally would, that you would cook instead. Hence why you were up at 10:15 on a Saturday morning and why your boyfriend’s shirt that you were wearing, was covered in flour and eggs.

Buck’s arms wrapped around your waist, your attention on the stove. His hands coming ups under your shirt to feel your bare skin, he was busy peppering kisses down your neck. You nudge him with your shoulder, “go sit down, I'll bring the pancakes over in a minute” you tell him and he hums. Pressing one more kiss to your neck, he untangles himself from you and goes to the table.

The layout of your apartment was a bit strange, the kitchen was by the front door but the kitchen didn’t have much space so your table was closer to your living room than the kitchen and there was a wall blocking you when you were in the kitchen so you weren’t able to see the table.

Now heading to the table with a plate in each hand, you were focused on not dropping the plates. That went out the window when you entered the room to see your boyfriend down on one knee with a velvet box in his hand.

“Buck” you breath

“Y/n, you are so amazing, you just- god, this is so cheesy but you really do take my breath away. Last night, I was laying beside you and I had this perfectly rehearsed speech that I was going to give you but it just doesn't make sense now. From the moment I met you, I knew you were special. You stood by my side and didn't complain when I worked long hours or didn't have time because I joined the fire department. You are the woman of my dreams and I would do anything for you. So I hope you would do me the honour of being my wife ?”

“Yes, oh my god yes” you lean down to kiss him. Buck smiles, “baby?”

“Hm?”

“You gotta put the plates down” he chuckles, you hadn't realized you were still holding the plates. Setting them down, Buck gets up. The ring that was in the box was now in his hand, he slid the ring on your finger. Holding your hand up, you admired the ring.

“I think this deserves a proper breakfast”

“I don’t think there’s anything better than this” he pulls you in for a hug.

Athena laughs when you tell her, “he ambushed you when you were making him breakfast ? This kid has no sense of the right time” you chuckles at her comment. “It was perfect. I don’t think I would have it any other way, you know?”

The doctor comes in, he asks for Buckley and all 7 of you stand. “Wow big group. Okay- we were able to patch the hole. He’ll need to be off work for the next 3-4 weeks before he can even consider going back but he should make a full recovery.” a few breaths of relief were let out around the room. “He’s in recovery now, I can take you in one at a time. Who would like to go first ?”

Everyone's looking at you and you glance over your shoulder. “Do any of you want to go ?” you ask, no one answers you.

“Maddie ?”

“I’m gonna get some air and some coffee and then I'll be there. Give him a hug for me” she gives your hand a squeeze, you smile at her. Following the doctor down the hallway, you pass multiple rooms all with different families and people with different injuries. That’s one of the things you enjoyed about the hospital- if you looked past all the sadness, there were so many success stories, so many happy families.

Room 276 at the end of the hall was his. Buck was asleep, a few wires and such were hooked to him. Pulling a chair up to his bedside, your hand reached for him, holding it gently as your thumb rubbed the top of it. Your eyes drift to his monitor by his bedside, steady heartbeat and blood pressure. There was nothing to be concerned about yet you couldn't look away.

“y/n,” a faint whisper left his lips, you glanced down at your fiancee, his eyes barely opened.

“Buck,” you smiled, your hand coming up to touch his face. He nuzzled closer to your hand, turning his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“Can I- water?” you let go of him to get the glass from the counter. Pouring some water in it, you stick the straw in the cup before holding the straw to his lips. He sighed and looked at you as you set the cup down. “I guess the secret’s out ?” he smiles, you nod.

“Maddie let it slip, but I was about to tell them so it’s fine” you kiss his forehead.

“Is everyone here?”

“Yeah, in the waiting room. They all thought you’d look horrendous so I came in to check, lucky me right ?” you joke, Buck lets out a weak laugh before his hand comes up to his chest.

“Ow, don’t make me laugh” he pouts, you smile at him. Sitting at the edge of the chair, your hand finds his hair, brushing it back softly.

“Surgery isn't a good look on you”

“Hey, I always look good” he pouts once more.

---

The few weeks go by a lot quicker than expected and Buck is set to return to the 118 on Monday. Athena had helped you plan a little surprise get together for Buck but you had just told him that you were headed over to Bobby and Athena’s for the day because you were going shopping with Athena. You left home around noon and helped them set up all day and you called Buck around 6.

“Hey babe, how’s shopping going ?”

“It’s alright, we’re back at the house now. Bobby was saying that you should swing by, we could all have dinner together”

“Hm yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be there soon”

Now you wait. The entire team was already there, everyone scattered amongst the living room, waiting for him to arrive. He knocked on the door, Athena shouted for him to come in. He walked in, everyone waited for him to round the corner, the surprise evident on his face.

“What’s all this?” he smiles, he makes his way down the stairs.

“Welcome back” Bobby goes over to give him a hug. Buck makes his way around the room, saying hello to everyone. Eventually, he finds you in the kitchen with Karen who says hello to him and then leaves the two of you in the kitchen.

“So did you really go shopping ?” he asks, his arm over your shoulder and your arm wraps around his waist.

“Yeah but for party supplies” you smile at him, he leans down and kisses your head. Chris, Denny and Harry all come into the kitchen on the hunt for sweets that you previously heard Eddie, Athena and Hen all telling them that they weren't allowed to have. Of course they assumed that if they sweet-talk Buck that he would give them, and he did, he never said no to those boys.

All three of them made themselves comfortable on the couch as Buck returned with a plate of cupcakes for them. Buck sat beside them, pulling you onto his lap.

“Do you have any scars from the surgery ?” Denny asks him, looking over at Buck. “Yeah, do you wanna see ?” Buck asks, the 3 boys nod eagerly. You smile at them, Buck unbuttons the top of his shirt, pulling it to the side to show the boys the scar from the surgery. It was fairly tiny but still noticeable.

“Woah that’s cool!” “Can I poke it?” “That’s weird looking”

You and Buck laugh at the responses- boys will be boys. The 3 boys ask a few more questions and Buck shows them a couple other scars that he had gotten over the year, eventually they get bored of Buck and his stories and go off to find someone else. You leave Buck in the living room as he was talking to Maddie and Chimney.

Now in the backyard, you and Athena were talking about when you'd actually go shopping when someone bumped into your leg. Looking down, you see Nia beside you, you pick her up and hold her, Nia sitting comfortably on your hip now. The two of you go along with your conversation and Nia cuddles into your side, you glance down at the little girl who was smiling at you, you give her a smile too.

Buck’s arm wraps around your shoulder, he presses a kiss to your temple. “Hey,” he smiles before leaning forward to take a peak at Nia, “Hey kiddo” he reaches out to hold her hand, she smiles at him.

“You 3 look comfortable together” Hen says as she makes her way over with Karen. Buck laughs.

“If you’re open to babysitting, feel free to take the kids anytime” Karen jokes, you smile. “I might take you up on that. It’d be like to have an actual kid around rather than just Buck” you laugh, Buck pouts. “Hey! I’m not that bad” the 3 women all give him looks. Athena pats his shoulder, “that’s what you think Buckaroo”

“Having the kids around would be good practice” Your fiancee thinks out loud.

“Practice for what, darling?”

“You know, one day maybe we’d have kids”

“Oh not now? Not a fan of the whole pregnancy glow thing ?”

“Oh I am, I do it right-” “don’t finish that sentence” you laugh, leaning up to give him a kiss. You had a feeling that your fiancé’s family was about to become yours too.

---

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miracleonice87 · 2 years

Note

Freddie Andersen, number 3? 😊

Spending Christmas at the other’s childhood home with their family (3) - with Freddie Andersen 🎄

from m’s winter prompt list 2021

a/n: yay, my first-ever Fred fic! 🤗 three more holiday blurbs to come after this.

word count: 1,800ish

warnings: mention of a parent leaving a child, divorce, alcohol

_____

You’d seen Freddie nervous for games, sure. Particularly when he was coming back from injury or in the thick of the playoffs. But never had you seen him this nervous – and what had him in such a tizzy was meeting his significant other’s family at the holidays.

The two of you were set to spend the short NHL holiday break with your dad and stepmom at your childhood home in Asheville, North Carolina. Your mom hadn’t been in the picture since you were a toddler, and you shared a close relationship with your dad, being his only child – you, for one, were excited for the two most important men in your life to meet. The prospect of which had Fred absolutely terrified.

Of all things this big, strong NHL player had to be concerned about, like pucks flying a hundred miles an hour at his face on a nightly basis, you were shocked that this was one of them.

The past couple of days, he’d been quiet – too quiet. He wasn’t the most talkative guy, of course. But it just wasn’t Freddie to be so sullen, lost in his own head, where he tortured himself with the idea of your family not believing he was good enough for you. Not trusting his lifestyle. Not being accepting of the traveling and training he had to do, taking him away from you. If Fred had said it once, he had said it a thousand times – he couldn’t imagine having to accept his own child putting up with such a life (hell, he hated that he had to put you through it at all). He was certain your family would feel the same.

Finally, after a few tension-laden days of silence, Fred had voiced all of this to you when you pressed him once more about what was on his mind and how you could help.

And after he did, near panting as he rushed out his every anxious thought, you cocked your head a bit, frowning. You hated seeing him so unsure of himself, especially when he had no reason to be.

“Baby…” you cooed, perching yourself on his knee and slinging your arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to be worried about what my family thinks of you, okay?” you said, smoothing a hand over his cheek before settling your thumb against his perfectly dimpled chin. “They’re going to love you. Besides… if anything, they’re gonna be on my case more than yours, what with my recently becoming a hockey player-chasing gold-digger and all,” you joked with a wink.

But Fred barely cracked a smile, totally unusual for how he normally always laughed at your jokes, at the very least beaming at you with an amused expression as you tried to make him laugh.

“Promise me you’ll try to stop worrying? Please?” you begged, mouthing softly at the hinge of his jaw as you made your way to his ear lobe. “For me?” you added tenderly, sending a shiver down Fred’s spine.

He shifted your hips so that you had to look at him again and he gave a solemn nod before cupping your cheek in his hand and capturing your lips in the sort of kiss that completely stole your breath away and made him forget what he was so worried about in the first place.

But in the blink of an eye, it was 24 hours later – Christmas Eve – and as he pulled up in front of your childhood home, your dad already waiting outside, Freddie most definitely remembered what he was so worried about in the first place.

Fred didn’t come literally face-to-face with many people, due to his tall frame. But your dad… of course, your dad not only met him at eye level, but even appeared to be just an inch or so taller, a state champion high school basketball player back in his day. Fred couldn’t help but gulp as he toted the bags and followed you up the driveway, feeling his palms begin to sweat simply by being in the man’s presence.

And then, you nearly knocked the formidable figure over, arms thrown around his waist, your cheek pressed as close against his sweater as possible, your eyes drawn shut and a contented smile on your face. And with your simple, syrupy sweet, “hi, Dad,” the commanding, authoritative man melted before Fred’s eyes, folding his arms around you and pressing a reverent kiss atop the crown of your head, his eyes sparkling before closing in joy, and as he watched, Fred could clearly see that your father was holding his entire world in his grasp.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he spoke, his voice booming. “Merry Christmas,” he said as he smiled down at you. Then, he met Fred’s gaze.

“Hi, son,” he greeted, extending a hand which Fred accepted, making a mental note to shake firmly. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Fred nodded as you smiled encouragingly at him, though he could still hear his nervous heartbeat pounding within his chest. “It’s nice to meet you, too, sir,” he commented. “Thanks for having us here for the holiday. You have a beautiful home,” he added, vaguely gesturing to the exterior of the stately old house.

“We like it alright,” your dad replied. “Surprised this one here still wants to be seen here considering the mansion she has access to now, thanks to you,” he said sarcastically, nudging your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes. “Dad,” you protested through gritted teeth.

Freddie shook his head humbly. “No, no, it’s alright,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I’ve been lucky, no doubt, but I didn’t grow up with much, so I certainly haven’t forgotten where I came from. Big house or not.” He stopped himself before he came off too defensive, aiming to put on an air that told your dad he was ready for anything he threw Fred’s way.

Your dad nodded slowly, eyeing Freddie carefully. “Well, I’m glad, and I hear you’re a hard worker, so I’m sure you deserve all you have,” he noted, tying a bow on the topic, to your relief. He nodded his head toward the door, motioning for the two of you to enter the house. “Now, come on in and get settled,” he encouraged, Fred following behind with the bags as you curled your hands around his bicep, pushing yourself up to kiss his cheek. He took comfort in the gesture, hopeful that the rest of your stay would entail only a few further shots at his character.

And it did – over the next three days, your dad kept the jabs relatively innocuous and certainly manageable from Fred’s perspective. Once again, he put himself in your dad’s shoes and reminded himself that he, too, would probably be giving his only child’s suitor a difficult time upon their first meeting. You were pleased and proud that he took it in stride, as you knew he would – offering to help your dad and stepmom with meal prep and cleanup without coming off as a kissass, always having you within his protective arm’s reach while respectfully limiting your PDA, and alternating between politely listening to your family stories and inside jokes and asking questions to better understand the dynamic among you.

On your last night with your family, you and your stepmom had cleared the table and then lingered in the kitchen, having a lengthy conversation over glasses of wine, and your dad, left in the dining room with Freddie and their glasses of whiskey, saw his opportunity to conduct his final test of the visit.

“Fred, I appreciate the way you’ve handled yourself throughout this trip,” your dad spoke, rolling his knuckles along the table. “I know I’m maybe not the most easygoing person, but I love my daughter more than anything, and so I hope you understand where I’m coming from.”

Fred nodded, twisting his glass against his palm.

“I do, sir,” he said. “I’d like to think I’d be somewhat similar to you, when put in the same situation. You want what’s best for your daughter, and I want nothing more than to be that for her. And to give that to her.”

Your dad attempted to keep his pleasure at Fred’s response from showing on his face, but Fred noticed the way the corners of his mouth turned upward as he shifted in his seat.

“Speaking of which,” he began, “since you came here with her, I assume things are serious. So… what do you think your future holds?”

It was Freddie’s turn to attempt to hide his smile, at which he failed miserably. He cleared his throat, holding his chin high.

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I can see myself spending the rest of my life with your daughter,” he leveled, meeting your dad’s eyes. “If she’ll have me,” he added, making both men chuckle.

“Well, that’ll be up to her, but, uh…” your dad ran a hand along his jaw in thought. “But if that’s what she wants, then I for one would be thrilled to have you as part of this family.”

Fred’s heart fluttered in his chest as he broke into a full-fledged grin.

“Thank you,” he said soberly. “That means more to me than I can say.”

Your dad offered a wink and a nod before patting Fred’s shoulder.

“Now, come on, let’s make sure those girls aren’t talking about us out there,” he joked as Fred laughed.

_____

That night after your parents had retired for the evening, you lay on Fred’s chest, settled on the couch between his legs, basking in the glow of the lighted tree as you listened to piano Christmas music over the sound system.

“Are you awake?” Freddie whispered, his hands giving just the slightest squeeze for where his arms were looped around you, resting on your stomach.

“Mmm, yeah,” you half-lied, blinking your bleary eyes to glance up at your boyfriend. “What’s wrong?”

Freddie shook his head. “Nothing,” he soothed, smoothing his hand over the side of your head. “I just wanted to say you were right.”

A sleepy smile spread across your face, and you moved your head just slightly to look into Fred’s eyes.

“Was I now?” you asked, nuzzling your head against the soft fleece of his sweatshirt.

“Mmhm,” Fred’s voice rumbled in his chest. “You told me I have nothing to worry about, meeting your family. And you were right. I loved it. I love them.”

You beamed, reaching up to cup Freddie’s neck gently, pressing a kiss to his stubbly jaw.

“I love you,” you whispered, knowing this was the perfect opportunity for such an admission – one you had been certain of long ago. “And they love you. It was the best Christmas, baby. Thank you.”

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shadowsinger11 · 3 years

Text

John Wayne

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Christmas lights and stunning dresses are enough to spark a desire for a winter romance. But could you have possibly gotten the wrong idea?

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff, angst

A/N: I might've listened too much to Cigarettes After Sex while writing and this is totally not a song inspired fic, born purely as a result of my procrastination with other projects

Tag list: @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @harrysweasleys @loony-loopy-lupinn @whiz-bangs78 @slytherinsunrise @starlightweasley @ickle-ronniekins @gcdric @vivianweasley @aprilsrant @idont-knowrn @thisismynerdyself @wonderful-writer @feetoffthetablee @minty-malfoy @vogueweasley @elf-punk @oh-for-merlins-sake @heart-of-tempered-steel @spilled-prose @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads @pastanest | message me to be added/removed! (if you're in bold, I couldn't tag you)

You were staring at the crowded dance floor.

Beautiful ladies were being spun around by their partners, gorgeous gowns twirling and swooshing with their every elegant move. Everything was perfect about them; from their smile which lit up the Great hall more than the sparkling white Christmas trees, to the way their wrist gracefully twisted around their lover's neck, eyes piercing into theirs. The music was playing, slow and melancholic, exactly as it had been playing for the last few hours, luring lovers and encouraging them to bare their souls in front of each other.

And so they danced, connected by fearful desire, united by hope and bonded by love.

It was a kind of magic no one could truly understand, mysterious and private as though you weren't meant to witness it that night. So when among the sea of couples lips met in a silent oath, your heart began to ache, pleading you to leave.

It should have been you. It should have been you the receiver of those loving glances, of those kisses which made your head dizzy and caused your knees to buckle, but it would've been no problem as you would've had the arms of your lover to keep you secure. Then, as you'd dare to look up through your lashes, gorgeous eyes would be already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. And you'd simply fall, letting the warm, velvety darkness envelope you.

You flinched from the slight chill, rethinking your choice of a sleeveless dress. The enthusiasm with which you had picked it months ago now seemed utterly ridiculous and foolish as you were sitting a good distance away from where you believed you'd have been dancing your heart out. But, as you took one last look at your surroundings, only to spot your lovestruck friends indulging in the presence of their partners, the comfort of your pajamas seemed far more tempting than the unreasonably expensive piece of fabric which didn't even matter to you anymore.

It was pitifully funny how things could change in the blink of an eye, in a single breath; how fast you had gone from blooming with excitement to wondering how you were foolish enough to contribute to your own heartbreak.

"How come I'm just finding out about this?" Fred exclaimed, chasing after you down the stairs of the Astronomy tower. "I bet I wouldn't have known if it wasn't for those Ravenclaws chatting back in class."

"You were gonna know eventually, what's the deal?"

"My point is, why didn't you tell me and I had to hear from someone else?"

A group Hufflepuffs gave you questioning looks as you practically ran past them, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process, "You're making a fuss about nothing, stop acting entitled to every piece of information in my life!"

"McLaggen? That git?" Fred yelled in frustration and disbelief; he didn't at all acknowledge the small crowd which had gathered to observe the scene, nor did he care in the first place. He stopped in his tracks, gripping the wooden railing tight, knuckles turning white and jaw tense. "You cannot be serious."

Shocked faces now turned to you, and you desperately wished you could use reducio on yourself. Instead, opposite to what your consciousness was screaming at you, you dug your feet into the floor and shot Fred a stern look over your shoulder, "We're not discussing this right now. Besides, what's in it for you anyway? You're going with Angelina."

Had you kept walking, you would have missed the way Fred's chest was heaving with shallow, rapid breaths, and his face was more maroon than you had ever seen. And you? You couldn't quite breathe yourself.

A week ago your untamed happiness brightened every room and hallway; classes seemed to fly by, exams were over and the Yule ball was right around the corner. Your heart was ringing with joy as you were so looking forward to forgetting your troubles for just one night.

In the midst of shining Christmas decorations and beautiful dresses a dreamy, yet pretty bold idea had begun to form in your head, an idea which Ginny and Hermione encouraged with their support and affirmations. Deep down you had started to believe Fred Weasley took an interest in you, harboured feelings for you even, and your ever-present goofy banter which contained far more flirting than what would be acceptable between two best friends, only fed your imagination and raised your hopes up.

You were aware you were the only one on the receiving end of Fred's teasing jokes, cheesy pickup lines and lingering stares which had you staying up an extra hour in your bed at night. Even his siblings shared the same opinion - there was no way on Godric's sword that a person who clearly wanted to be around you as often as possible and got his hands on you every chance he could, wouldn't be at least a little bit interested in you.

That's why you nearly broke down when exactly a week ago in the hallway Ron casually mentioned his older brother had just asked out Angelina.

The ground was pulled beneath your feet, vanishing along with your oblivious hopes. The news stung sharply, leaving a sour taste in your mouth; never had you believed you’d spend the few days before the ball stitching up your heart, and you were willing to do just about anything to forget about your humiliation. So when McLaggen invited you with an obnoxiously flirty note in Charms class, you didn’t hesitate much.

You could feel a wave of tears burning your eyes as you looked up to where Fred was standing. His face and ears were still as red as they could get, and his chest was vibrating with every shaky breath he took. Fury had disappeared from his eyes long ago, replaced with concern, regret and hurt which you couldn't quite place.

He climbed down the few remaining stairs.

"He's obnoxious! And beyond what's good for you!" Fred stated, though his voice now lacked power and slightly trembled, loud enough just for you to hear. "You're setting yourself up for a pretty bad night."

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and finally turned around to fully face him, looking him up and down.

"Seems like I have a terrible taste in men then."

A second glass of firewhiskey did nothing to burn down the growing turmoil in your stomach. You tapped the edge of the empty glass with your fingers and smiled at your friends who were visibly exhausted from dancing to upbeat songs for quite awhile now, but enjoying their time far too much to take a break. You admired their spirit - just because you weren't feeling your best, it didn't mean your friends didn't have the right to have fun.

However, the inevitable sense of regret lingered in your bones, and you found it hard to not focus on how the ball had gone wrong for you, in more ways than you had originally thought.

Even without Fred as your date, there was still a chance you'd have a good time. McLaggen could undoubtedly make it awkward to be around, and with the fact that your heart had recently been sliced open, you weren't sure how much of his ridiculous antics you could take. But at least he was trying; if you put aside his overbearing ego, you could see genuine effort into creating something romantic for both of you. It was going to be okay. Not necessarily what you desired, but somehow okay.

And that last bit of hope vanished the second you caught your former date snogging your crush's date in an empty classroom merely an hour ago.

You didn't know whether to cry or laugh at the universe's bitter joke, but the tears on your face as you ran down the hallway in your beautiful dress were eloquent.

A bitter, bitter joke.

You couldn't take it anymore. The charming smiles, sultry glances and stolen kisses you had been observing for the past hour were too much. And when another slow song made an appearance, you rose to your feet and headed towards the tall doors of the exit. Perhaps sleep would be a decent ending to your horrendous night.

You had barely made it out of the Great hall when loud footsteps echoed on your right.

"Bloody hell, I've been looking for you!" Fred said through heavy breaths, having run all the way to you as it seemed. His ginger hair had escaped its slicked look long ago, now too messy to fix despite his numerous attempts to smooth it back. His suit was no better, slightly wrinkled and shirt open to the third button.

"Why have you?" you asked and folded your arms, feeling a bit chilly in the hallway.

"McLaggen. About him," Fred sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry for having to say it, but I just saw him-"

"I know."

Fred frowned in confusion.

"You do?"

It was your turn to let out an exasperated sigh as you looked down at your feet, "Yes. A while ago."

Fred's features softened.

"I'm sorry."

You barely found it in you to respond with a weak smile, "It's alright. I guess I was right. I do have a terrible taste in men." Then you gave Fred a sympathetic look, "I'm sorry for Angelina too, it's horrible she did this to you."

Your friend allowed the ghost of a smirk to appear on his lips and he shoved hands into his pockets, "I'm not really affected by it in all honesty," he shrugged. "I'm rather angry about the fact that the prat thought he could pull off something like this and get away with it."

Fred's heart ached at the sight of your slumped figure and glossy eyes; he hated himself for having contributed to the failure of the event you were expecting with so much hope. He tilted his head to the side, attempting to meet your gaze.

"I'd gladly prank the crap outta the git until he doesn't even dare to show up to classes… But for now is there a way for me to make your night any less terrible, love?"

You couldn't help but giggle at the thought of McLaggen skipping classes out of sheer fear of Fred. But then your thoughts wandered to the way Angelina was practically straddling his lap, and you wondered if Fred had been doing the same all this time unbeknownst to you; if right after a flirty joke sent your way he'd go to an empty classroom and kiss Angelina with the passion you had just witnessed.

The image of Angelina's lips on Fred's caused you to become nauseous and you attempted to swallow down that lump again.

"No," you replied. "But please, tell me one thing. What was that entire tantrum for?"

Fred didn't really seem taken aback by your question, realizing you'd eventually bring it up. He furrowed a brow, carefully thinking of an answer, and wettened his lips.

“Perhaps it would be inappropriate of me to say it- selfish even, but the mere thought of you being in the embrace of someone, especially with that someone being a foul git, caused me to get unreasonably angry.” Guilt was seeping into his every word and he bitterly chuckled to himself. “Ironic, isn’t it? Attempting to spare you heartbreak by being the reason for it.”

He gently took your hand and looked into your eyes, remorse swimming in his own, "I had no right to treat you the way I did. I'm terribly sorry for being controlling and you absolutely do not have to forgive me. Just know that I truly regret my actions; I never intended to hurt you."

His words were a feather-light caress to your wounded heart and you shuddered. You couldn't stay mad at him. Reciprocated feelings or not, he was still your best friend and you wouldn't let that go.

"Apology accepted," you gave his hand a light squeeze and Fred beamed, the entire hallway lighting up with him. Dread released your chest of its merciless grasp and you could finally breathe. However, one question never ceased to haunt you. "But I just need to know…” you began, absentmindedly playing with his fingers, “...why were you so upset to begin with?"

Fred's shoulders immediately stiffened and he averted his gaze from you in an attempt to come up with a reasonable reply. His jaw was clenched, and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "I didn't want you to go with him." He stated simply. "Not when you could've easily gone with me instead."

You froze.

"What do you mean?” you asked timidly, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “What about Angelina?"

Fred only shook his head, fighting back a grin.

"Darling, Angelina was never the catch."

The air was knocked out of your lungs.

You could only stare at Fred wide-eyed, and though his expression was unreadable, maroon had begun to crawl its way up to his ears and cheeks again.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all this," Fred spoke softly as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a kiss that awakened the butterflies within you. "I was really too much of a wuss to confess to you and settled for this instead."

"I guess that makes us two," you smiled sincerely, perhaps for the first time that night. Fred returned your smile with a grin, and asked.

"How can I make up to you for this oh-so-awful mess?"

"Dance with me," you said without skipping a beat. "That's what you owe me at least. Let's finally do what we both wanted."

Fred's expression became serious as he intertwined his fingers with yours, and led you into the direction of the Great hall, from which music could still faintly be heard.

"With the greatest of pleasure, my love."

Most people had already gone to bed, leaving just a few couples and you to drench in enchanted serenity. Fred's arms around you felt like home as you both swayed to the soft rhythm of the song, one of the many to follow, but his racing heartbeat under your palm caused your own pulse to speed up as well.

You looked up at your lover through your lashes, gorgeous eyes already on you, their obscure flame consoling you and pulling you in. There was an odd, enigmatic allure that Fred possessed, and even after years of knowing this man, it only caused you to fall further into the velvety hell you didn't wish to escape from.

And when his lips collided with yours, they tasted sweeter than the forbidden fruit.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader fluff #fred weasley x reader angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #james phelps #fred and george weasley

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gureumcity · 2 years

Text

destination: magic island

💌 pairing: choi soobin x reader 💌 genre: oneshot, best friend to lover!au, fluff 💌 warning: yeonjun cheats but there is nothing implied to this. just for the sake of the story. please do not misunderstand or get angry. it's just fiction! 💌 word count: 3.6k 💌 author's note: it's the holidays! i hope all of you spend your winter break with people you love and do everything you want to do. create a new year resolution list and set a new mindset. and to all the moas out there, i know you're mad about mama (i am too) but throw that away and live happily.

[ finding out your 3 year boyfriend had been cheating on you, you couldn't find the strength in you to accept that he was no longer in love with you. and even if he still was, would your best friend really stand by and watch as you crumble? ]

it was three days before christmas eve. everyone knew this time of the year was the hardest to get plane tickets. but luckily, you had scored two for your holiday trip with your boyfriend.

"y/n!" you perked your head out the door while still checking that you had packed everything. "what, yeonjun?"

"i can't find my phone!" you see the device on the bathroom counter charging, taking it out. "it's right here!" his reply was faded out when his phone screen lit up with a text notification.

i miss you jun. i'll be waiting for you to ditch....

you couldn't read the rest of it but you didn't need to. you could hear the way his footsteps rushed at the sound of silence and when he entered the bathroom, you gave him his phone. when he didn't say anything, you grabbed his hand. "jun.. what's that about?" he checked his phone before placing it in his back pocket. "oh. it's just my cousin. i'm gonna call her later for holiday greetings so... yeah." you nodded your head, not much else you're able to say. yeonjun quickly pulled you into his embrace with, what seemed like a very nervous chuckle. but you didn't say much since his smell was intoxicating enough for you to melt into him once again.

the day of the flight came along just as quickly as anything else during the holidays. you were standing at check-in, and instead of waiting for your boyfriend like you had planned, you were balling your eyes out. it's been thirty minutes and you were starting to worry you wouldn't be able to stop crying. an hour ago, you got a call from yeonjun telling you that he no longer wanted to be with you and that he had found someone else. he didn't give you much time to say anything but it was hard to miss that feminine, annoying giggle on the other end. and of course, the tickets are non refundable. holiday tickets are insane. you can never get them but you can also never get rid of them.

within the first twenty minutes, you found yourself calling your best friend. "soobin? can.. can you please come pick me up?" as soon as he heard the sobs coming from the other end of the call, he started grabbing some random clothes and things he'd need and packed them up. with a messy suitcase and his passport, he had a taxi speeding to the airport. when he finally got himself placed in check-in, he was looking for you. it wasn't hard because he found your back crumpled up from the loss in energy. starting with a back hug, he greets your teary self. "you okay?" you scoffed at the way you knew your eyeliner and mascara was messed up. "do i look okay?" you smile at the way he rubs your back until your eye catches the suitcase in his other hand. "what is- soobin?" he traces your eye level towards his suitcase and smiles. "you still have both tickets right?", at the nod of your head, he smiles. "great.. then let's go."

you couldn't resist the smile that appeared on your face, finally noticing what he was indicating. you grabbed his hand and quickly ran to check-in.

soobin has always been there for you. maybe not since day one but you met yeonjun through him. well, kinda.. soobin and yeonjun were on good terms and were really close in the beginning. but as time passed, he started getting distant. it just so happened to be when you were getting closer to yeonjun. you just thought maybe he didn't like the thought of yeonjun replacing your best friend spot. but both yeonjun and soobin knew it was so much more. after yeonjun and you started dating, soobin didn't talk to you for about three weeks but he eventually came back around. he couldn't survive staying away from you too long. although, you could still sense something was wrong between the three of you.

an hour passed and you were well on the boarding gate, finding your seats in the plane. you fell asleep as soon as the plane took off but soobin understood. you just spent almost an hour crying from all the mess that happened this morning. the next thing that came across your ears were "you have reached your destination. welcome to tokyo, japan. enjoy your stay!" and then once again in japanese. you couldn't believe it. you were here!! with soobin! this was a going to be a great get your mind off yeonjun and be with your bestie trip.

once soobin and you were out with your luggages and done with the whole exiting process, you ran out of the airport taking in the crisp winter breeze. "we should probably go check in the hotel first, right?" you watch as soobin nods before remembering that yeonjun and you figured you wouldn't need two rooms or two beds and so you ended up getting a couple's suite.

a taxi came to take both of you to the hotel and once you entered, you were scurrying over to customer service. "hi. i'm y/ln y/n. and my reservation might be under choi yeonjun. i was wondering if it's possible to switch suites now." the girl at the desk seems oddly busy with staring at soobin who was taking a look around and you couldn't help but let out an awkward laugh. "you see. umm.. my boyfriend and i were supposed to share that room but now we're not. and my friend over there needs a room. is there any way that you could-"

"so you guys aren't a couple?"

"um.. no.. no, we're not. but why does this matter?" the strange grin the rises in her face creeps you out. "anyway. so? can you?"

"oh. i'm afraid not, miss. they are no current vacancies in connected rooms. unfortunately with the holidays, bookings and reservations alterations must be done within a week before your arrival. you will have to suffice with this one. i'm incredibly sorry." you grab the keys she was handing to you with a smile because this girl was paying no attention to you. "yeah. okay. that's alright. thanks." walking over back to soobin, you almost trip over your suitcase. but lucky for you, your best friend had long arms and caught you before you fell. "sorry."

"don't be. so? how were the rooms?"

"well.. i couldn't change them but we can sleep on the same bed, right? i mean we're not seven anymore but it's not weird. well. i don't know. maybe it is. do you think it's weird, binnie? nevermind. we should just-"

"i think it's perfect," he places both his hands on both sides of your arms to calm you down. "take a breath, y/n. everything's going to be alright," you nod your head as you grab your suitcase in one hand and your keys in the other. "we can go drop our things in the hotel and then go have some fun. unless you wanna rest for today. it's still 9:40. we can go do something or we can sleep for the night and start tomorrow." both offers seemed nice but the flight was fine on your body. it was the crying session you had a few hours back.

"okay. let's go rest today and we'll have fun tomorrow."

"sounds like a plan."

——————————

while the two of you had fun for the next couple of days, christmas was creeping up. it was the morning of christmas eve and you couldn't thank soobin enough. he had made you happy once again within a very short span of time. maybe because it was japan. or maybe because it was soobin. you guys had decided to go watch the christmas tree light up today while ice skating. this, in which you were just getting dressed for, you caught up with soobin who had just gotten a taxi for the both of you.

"can you believe this christmas miracle?" he looked over to you who was staring out the window. "hmm?" you glanced over with a smile. "that i got a good hair day and a good skin day. if only i did my makeup a little cleaner." you pouted as you saw yourself in the rear mirror of the taxi. but not long enough until soobin has you facing towards him. "you don't need any type of miracle to look this way. you're just pretty," you couldn't help but blush at his words, smacking him out of embarrassment. "you wanna hear my miracle?" you nodded as he held you close for warmth. "that we're together here on christmas. something we haven't been able to celebrate together for three years." you thought about it. he was right. two of the times you were with yeonjun and the other was with yeonjun's family and yours. "you're right. that is a miracle."

"but you know i need one more miracle saved," he looked at your confused expression and twiddled with his fingers. "depending on what you answer me today, i will be very happy or absolutely crushed."

"what?"

"i'm just kidding! don't worry about it." you both laughed it off as the taxi driver finally pulled over.

once you guys were on the rink, you held hands. the both of you weren't the best at it, maybe even around the same level of skill. you stumbled a few times but so did he. the first time you had tripped, he caught you and complained about his ass hurting for ten minutes. about two hours pass when you hear the announcement to the tree lighting. you quickly skate over to the exit with soobin and changed your shoes. "let's go!!" you were so excited to see this. you got yourself up close but didn't see soobin around. you called his name but everyone looked at you weirdly so you decided to call him. but before you could reach for your phone, arms wrapped around you with small cups in their hands. you turned around to see soobin with pink cheeks, grinning from ear to ear. you noticed the new earmuffs on his head home with an extra around his neck. you grabbed the one on his neck and placed it around your own head. you giggled, looking at how cute he looks right now while sipping the hot chocolate he had just handed to you.

"tree lighting is starting. in thirty seconds."

you quickly looked back at the tree with a little shiver before feeling the warm embrace around you once again. you smiled as he pulled you into his down jacket. with a smile on your face, you faced towards the tree again. but this time, you spot something you didn't think you'd see on this trip. or rather, someone. the shock caused you to drop your drink. "you okay?", soobin picks up the drink and places it on the floor facing up, deciding to clean up later when they are less people. "what's wrong?" he knew by the look in your eyes that you were about to cry.

with the feeling that you wouldn't be answering him, soobin let you be. on the other hand, the man from across had instinctively smiled at the sight of you. your ears felt muffled. and not because of the earmuffs. "3! 2! 1! whooo!" you hear the cheering noises of everyone surrounding you. you stood frozen while everyone else starting leaving their spots for the events that were opening up soon.

soobin looks at where you were looking, finally seeing the same perspective. he walks over and places himself in front of you, blocking your view. "y/n.. don't. you promised me you wouldn't hurt yourself again." you took in a deep breath, nodding at his remark. "you're right. i just.. i need to talk to him and ask him why." soobin didn't like what you were putting yourself through. and what made it worse was the past three days have been so great and he finally felt like maybe you were starting to feel something for him the way he has for you. you just didn't want to admit it.

as soon as he heard those steps coming towards the two of you, he turned around, letting you hide behind him. "what do you want, yeonjun?" yeonjun smiles almost apologetically. no. soobin was right. you weren't going to give in like this. "i just want to talk to y/n. please y/n.." you slowly walked out into view and looked at those eyes that you always found yourself melting into. "bin..," you say when he tries to pull you back. soobin felt a shake in his heart. almost like it was telling him to get ready for a heartbreak. and so he let go of you. "go back to the hotel. i'll catch up with you later." he really didn't want to. tonight was supposed to be their night. with no yeonjun involved. but he didn't want to hold you back. "call me. if anything happens." he whispered before walking off.

"yeonjun. what are you doing here?" you felt your eyes already tearing up. when yeonjun had called you that day, you felt a hole in your chest. soobin seemed to always cover that up. but i guess some wounds don't always heal all the way. "can we go to a cafe or something? i.. i really want to apologize." you so wanted to let out a scoff but it came out as a soft nod and a sigh. you hated yourself. you couldn't even control your own body.

yeonjun had ordered some warm drinks while you found the two of you seats. when he came over, it didn't go by unnoticed that you had chosen a spot where he sits on the other side and no other space to sit closer to you. but he wasn't going to push it. the last three days have been hell for him. "so?"

"right.. y/n, please just know that. i still love you," the scoff came out long overdue. "i need you to know that when i tell you this, i mean it. breaking up with you was a big mistake. i had thought that with you not wanting to be.. you know. active. i just assumed you didn't love me enough to do it. with me. and i started doubting myself when naeun came back."

"naeun?" of course this bitch had to be a part of it. she was always a jealous and petty girl who could never stand you being near yeonjun. "i know. i know what it sounds like. and i swear it's not an excuse. i was the one who flirted first. it's wrong but i just wanted to feel something. okay? and.. with you, it felt like it was going nowhere. so please.. it's just. i love you. i do. and i know what i did was wrong. but is there anyway? anyway you could take me back?" yeonjun warm hands engulfed around your small, cold ones. you flinched at the touch. the touch that always felt natural to you.

"jun.. it's not. it's not right. cause. if you love me, why?" you felt yourself caving in more and more. if it wasn't for the bells jingling at the sound of the door opening, you wouldn't have snapped yourself out of it. soobin was heading your way. he looked at yeonjun with spite and you with worry. "i couldn't leave you here with him and let you do things you'll regret in the morning." he was right. soobin was always right.

"you guys aren't- dude really? you just swoop in and take my girlfriend away from-" you've had enough. "excuse me! but for your information, soobin only came with me because you left me hanging at the airport for an hour. and don't even think of blaming this on him. because he is the only person who ever sticks by me," by the time your tears were flowing, soobin placed himself in front of you like a guard. all of you decided to leave the cafe since people were starting to look and you knew that japan was the last place to cause a scene, seeing how respectful and enclosed they are. "and i'm sorry. did you say my girlfriend? because the last time i remember is you dumping me for some other bitch!" soobin finally got you to stop talking when he grabbed your hand. you looked up at him as he seemed to be having a staring contest with yeonjun.

"yeonjun. please.. just let her be. i backed off. didn't i?," he looked back and whispered to yeonjun, which you could kinda hear. "i want my chance with her." your eyes widened at the words and you felt your heart skip a beat.

——————————

"so.. what was that about?" you asked as the both of you were back in your hotel room. soobin looked over to you confused. "what are you talking about?"

"soobin. i heard what you said to yeonjun. what does it even mean?" oh you knew what it meant. you just.. you wanted to hear him say it. not like it was something you've been wishing to hear since you first became friends with him. what?

"look y/n.. it was supposed to be at a better place and a better time. that was kinda why i planned today. and..," he looked over to you and stood in front of you. you get overwhelmed with the towering stance, causing heat to rise up your cheeks. "i like you. in a way i know you don't. i have for a really long time and i just always missed the timing for it. especially when i literally led you to yeonjun and you started liking him and dating him. i thought i had lost you so i tried to ignore you but i couldn't. and i know it sounds weird for me to say it right now but i wish you'd just forget about it if it would affect our friendship-"

"bin," you stopped him from blurting out all those words with your hands covering his. well.. not really. because his hand was the size of your face. not the point! "calm down. i wish you had told me sooner. because i felt the same way about you when we were still kids. and i only told you i felt attracted to yeonjun because i wanted to see how you'd react. obviously when you set me up with him, i thought you didn't care for me that way and that's why i started dating yeonjun. of course, i fell in love with him at some point. but somewhere in my heart, i always knew it was you." you heard a cry and you looked up. but it wasn't even soobin. he just looked more shocked. you looked around to see your phone on the bed, connected to a call. from the one and only yeonjun. you quickly picked it up and placed the phone to your ear. "yeonjun? you heard all of that, didn't you? look.. i didn't mean that i didn't love you. i did! but.."

"no. i get it. i always knew you guys would find each other sometime. even though i figured you and i would be able to work it out in this lifetime. i love you, y/n. but you deserve better. and now i know that too. goodbye." with the beep, your tears started once again. soobin's first instincts were to engulf you in a hug.

after a few minutes had passed, you felt soobin stop playing with your hair. "so.. guess you love me, huh?" you took a step back to smack him. but it didn't take a newborn baby to know that you sure did. "i guess i do. do you have a problem with that, mr. choi?"

"i don't know. mrs. choi?" your blush came so naturally but you weren't actually shocked until you saw the ring box pulled out of his jacket. "oh my god." "i know that we really haven't had the time to date but i believe we have done a lot of things most friends don't do anyway. and i have liked you for a really long time. now that i know you felt the same way.. i want to ask you." soobin gives you the box. your heart literally stops at his words. you'd more than love to marry him. but isn't it too sudden? "soobin.."

"wait wait. i think you'll agree to this. y/n. will you marry me," he opens the box to a small band ring with the letter s plated in the middle. "someday?" you don't know how many times you have cried in front of him this past week but you were happy that for once, you were crying from happiness. "yes. yes, soobin! oh my god." with a swift second, he has you in his arms with a smile long overdue.

"finally. i get to tell my mom you're mine. she's tired of me pining over you." you chuckled at his confession. "and my mom will be glad that i'll be bringing someone familiar." he pulls you into a kiss in which you fully accepted with your arms around his neck loosely and tiptoes to match his height. "i love you.."

"i love you too."

#gureumcity #txt #tomorrow x together #moa #soobin #choi soobin #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #txt oneshots #txt imagines #soobin imagines

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yoditorian · 3 years

Text

The Pancake King

javier peña/reader

yeah i know i said i had no more wip space but then i had a headcanon idea which turned into a note on my phone which turned into,,,,this, which might turn into something else but for now it’s a standalone oneshot that can be read as a sequel to this

main masterlist

word count: 2.5k // warnings: some swears, unnamed boyfriend cheating, food, work stress mentions

This week really, really doesn’t want to give you a break.

The mountain of paperwork waiting for signatures and stamps only seems to get bigger, obscuring half the office from your little corner desk. Every time you have a moment to get through a few of them, you’re pulled into somebody else’s office for a meeting, or someone needs you to double check one of their own forms, or you have to clean up somebody else’s mess. As usual.

And then there’s your life outside of work, if you can even call it that. But your air conditioner is broken and the mailman keeps giving your letters to everyone but you, it seems, and it’s too fucking hot during the day to have to deal with any of this shit.

So you took the day, called in with a fake-cold and promised you’d be back in tomorrow. How much could the office fall apart in just one day? The air conditioning is still broken, but you’d gone out and bought three of the biggest fans you could find. Problem one, sort of solved. The mailman is his own mystery, seemingly vanishing into thin air as soon as you’d spotted him on the sidewalk, at least Connie was in to give you the mail that had gotten mixed up with hers. That, and you’d managed to sneak in some baby cuddles with Olivia. There’s not much you can do about the weather itself, besides wear as little as can be considered publicly decent and pray for the thunderstorm the weather forecast keeps promising is on its way.

Only, as luck always has it, things get worse.

You’d called the boyfriend you left back home, just like you do at the same time every Thursday night. And some chirpy woman had answered, introducing herself as his girlfriend. And that was the last straw.

You can’t even remember what you told her, now. Something about how he could drop the key to your apartment back with your best friend, maybe something along the lines of how he can go fuck himself too. That sounds about right. You’d hung up before she could say anything else.

It’s just you and the wall now, the television not even good enough company to quiet the stress of literally everything in your life. You’re vaguely aware of your stomach rumbling, although you’re not sure you have the energy to get up and root around in your fridge. You ate the last of the leftovers in there yesterday anyway, and you’re pretty sure everything else involves some kind of preparation. Which you really don’t have the energy for. Sleep, sleep can be your dinner tonight.

Javier and Steve get back from the office at the same time Connie comes trotting down the stairs to leave for a shift.

“Can one of you check on them?” She asks, pulling on her cardigan to keep off the evening breeze. There’s something in her tone that has Javier’s brow furrowing even further than it usually is, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by either of the Murphys.

“Last time we spoke, I thought they were gonna hit me,” Steve raises his eyebrows in disbelief, a little too dramatically, “This one’s on you, Peña.”

He’s off up the stairs before Javier can argue that he probably, definitely, is the last on the list of people you want to see if you’re having a bad day. He’s responsible for half the forms waiting on your desk, seemingly doubled over the course of the day. That, and his comforting skills aren’t exactly legendary. Connie, for all her tact, shrugs apologetically at him before she’s leaving too, and he’s left standing in the hall wondering exactly what it is he’s supposed to do now.

He remembers his bad day, the really bad one, a few months ago. How you turned up on his doorstep with homemade nachos and a smile, exactly what he needed before he even knew it himself. He hears his father in his head, waxing poetic about the way that people comfort others is often the way they like to be comforted. And, honestly, who doesn’t like a good meal when everything feels a little bit against them?

Javier can’t cook, he’s not arrogant enough to pretend that he can make anything off the top of his head. Nor is he certain he has any of the ingredients for anything in the cookbook Steve had bought him as a joke for the Christmas just gone. There is one option though, he just hopes it’s the right one as he starts to pull a frying pan out of the cupboard.

You’re surprised when there’s a knock at your door and you have to struggle out of your blanket for a minute, your ass numb from sitting on the ground for too long. It’s probably only Connie, checking that you’ve eaten. She’ll see right through your lie but you doubt she’ll push it, only remind you to eat breakfast with a stern look that you know she only pulls out for her most difficult patients. You’re not sure when that privilege extended to you.

It’s not Connie.

Javier stands in the light of the hallway, a foil covered plate in his hands, and looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You start to wish you hadn’t worn your blanket like a cape to answer the door.

“I, um-” He can’t seem to pick where to look, eyes settling somewhere to the right of your head before he tries again, “You had a bad day.”

Oh, oh, he really couldn’t have tried harder. It’s an odd parallel of a moment, months ago, when you barged your way into his apartment with nachos and good intentions. There’s an uncomfortable swell of something right under your lungs and you beg it to stay quiet. He gestures with the plate in his hands, the smell of sugar and sweetness wafting out from underneath it, and your stomach gurgles. The sound pulls a giggle from both of you, and things start to feel a lot more comfortable.

“Welcome to the pit of despair.” You laugh, gesturing for him to follow you in and toward the kitchen.

You pull your last two clean forks out of the cutlery drawer as Javier sets the plate down on the kitchen table and reveals whatever it is he spent the time and effort to make. Just for you.

Pancakes.

And, honestly, you couldn’t imagine anything more Javier. He barely leaves the office, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only ever seen him eat outside of his desk when Connie forces him to come to dinner. You can’t stop the smile that slips onto your face, the first one all week if you’re being honest.

“What?” He asks, taking the fork you offer out to him and settling down in the chair across from you.

“You made me pancakes?” Your voice is smaller than you expect it, the intention of his actions catches in your throat and makes you a little more emotional than you thought it would. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but thinks better of it when you reach out with your fork and rip a chunk out of the stack of frankly perfect looking offerings.

And they are perfect. Fluffy and light and sweet and wonderful. An odd juxtaposition to their chef, but you don’t think about it. You don’t think about anything, you sit and eat in silence and try to prolong this one moment of peace for as long as you can.

It ends sooner than you want it to. Every last crumb devoured between the two of you, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so bad. Pancakes will do that.

He’’s gathering up the plate and forks before you can protest, moving wordlessly to tackle the pile of dishes that you’ve been ignoring in your sink for the last couple of days.

Javier can’t help himself when he spots the stack of dishes behind you. You’ve looked like you’re on the verge of crying since you opened the door and if there’s one chore that’ll reduce someone to tears, it’s doing the dishes. So he doesn’t even think about it, just collects the empty plate and pulls the fork out of your hand and gets to work.

You’re about to protest, tell him something about how you can deal with it, or that it’s late and he should go home, get some sleep. He knows you well enough, and your face when he turns to look at you over the shoulder as the hot water starts running proves as much. Just as you know the no-nonsense look on his face isn’t one you want to argue with. He waits, watching, for you to rise from the table and shuffle back towards the living room, listens carefully for the sound of you flopping onto the couch, before turning back to the sink and getting to work.

It’s times like these he wishes he asked more questions, then he might know what prompted you to call out with a cold when you’re clearly the picture of health. Physically, anyway. Although sometimes he thinks you could be all kinds of sick, and that little voice in his head would still tell him you’re pretty. If he knew, or had any kind of hunch, he could help a little more than this. Pancakes and dirty dishes only go so far, although he’s never been great at comforting people beyond his cousins’ scraped knees when they were little. It’s not a case of ignoring any time you’ve opened up about your life outside of work, there’s always some part of his brain ready to soak up your every word like a sponge. Maybe it is as simple as that, maybe it’s just work that has gotten a bit too much. Maybe it’s a combination of things.

The dishes are neatly lined up on the drying rack before he even notices he’s finished, fishing around in the bottom of the sink for a full minute until he realises everything has been washed.

You’re still sitting on the couch when he comes through to the living room, hands dried and clean. You shuffle up to make room for him, having just dumped yourself unceremoniously in the middle of the cushions, and keep your eyes on the dormant television in front of you. You’re expecting him to say something, to tell you it’ll be okay, or that everything will work itself out, or that it probably won’t seem like a big deal in the morning. He’d be right, it probably won’t. But right now, all you can feel is the weight that settled on your chest as the whole of the past week makes itself comfortable.

You pull the blanket tighter against you, shoulders straining the thin fabric, as if you could squash all your problems until they disappear. But they only seem to get bigger.

“You remember my boyfriend, back home?” You’re quiet, more so than you had been earlier. As if you’re afraid of the words as you speak them.

He does remember. The guy came down to visit once, only a few weeks after you’d been transferred. Steve had done his best to befriend the guy, where Javier hadn’t extended anything beyond a handshake and a raised eyebrow in your direction. Not that he didn’t like him (he didn’t, still doesn’t, but that’s besides the point), but all Javier really remembers is your disappointment come Monday morning when you’d trudged into the office and told them he’d had to leave early. Work emergency. It had smelt like bullshit then, it smells like bullshit now. Still, he nods, and lets you continue.

“Not only mine, turns out.” It all comes out in one breath, and all he can do is watch as you curl even further into yourself. Scumbag. Sure, Javi’s been around the block a little, or a lot, but he’s never stooped so low as to cheat on anybody. He’s above that, at least.

The barely audible sniffle from under your blanket pulls him right out of thinking of all the ways he could make this guy’s life hell back home, and he sends a prayer up to whoever’s listening that he won’t make it worse with what he’s about to do.

A soft tug on the corner of your blanket is the only warning you get, and suddenly you’re being pulled across the length of the couch until you’re half in his lap.

“Javi.” You manage, barely hanging on to your composure. You know he knows that, but you don’t know why he won’t leave you to it.

The look on your face just about breaks his heart. All big watery eyes and confusion, the nickname you so rarely use sounds so soft whispered in the air between you. You’re already beginning to crumble, if only from the way he’s holding you like you’ll shatter with the slightest breeze. Maybe you will.

It’s the tenderness that gets you, in the end. How he seems to just know what you need, far better than anyone else has in a long time. The weight of his arms around you, gentle but firm, makes it suddenly difficult to breathe past the lump in your throat as the tears start to fall. And Javier holds you through it all. Even though you’re both at an awkward angle and you’re pretty sure his leg is trapped underneath you, he doesn’t budge. It’s easy to forget, alongside your easy camaraderie with Steve, that Javier works with you all day every day too.

It can’t be more than an hour later that he feels you slump against him and your breathing begins to even out, save for the occasional stray hiccup. Something about the way you’ve snuggled into him, head on his chest and fingers fisted in the soft black t-shirt he reserves for cold nights and bad days. A crack of thunder and sudden downpour of rain jolts you as you sleep, sends you even further into his embrace, and he holds you to him a little tighter. It’s nice, oddly. Even though having you so close makes his heart want to burst right out of his ribcage.

At least the rain sends a welcome gust of cool air through the open bedroom window, swirling down the hall and mercifully circling around the living room.

Javier tugs the blanket out from around you, just enough to cover the both of you, and shuffles as much as he dares to try and get comfortable. You need the sleep, and he’s not about to take it from you just for the sake of blood flow in his leg. You barely notice when he settles, comfortable even on your old couch and the weight of a grown human on top of him. His back will kill him in the morning, but you’ll have rested better for it and that’s a small price to pay.

He tries not to think too hard about what that might mean.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44

#once again i am a CLOWN #anyway pls take the third bit of writing i did today #the pancake king #narcos #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #liz does words #sfw

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fandomscombine · 3 years

Text

No, Not Like This [Part 2]

George Weasley x Reader

BG: Rewatched the New Girl S2x15. You know the one with the ICONIC Nick and Jess 1st Kiss? Now make it the reader and Geroge!

a/n: This second part follows more on their realization of what tf just happened. As did in S2x16. (so they don’t have scenes together, just their brains going into overdrive thinking they screwed up. don’t worry I’ll bring them back in pt3 hehe but first here’s some chaotic fun!)

This part’s voices of reason are.... Cho and Fred!

WC:1330

Read PART 1

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

George made his way back up to his dorm in a surprising cool calm manner. It was not until late the next morning did what he did sunk in.

What George had thought was a very nice, vivid dream- one he wish he would have the courage to act upon in real life, had actually happened, he panicked. ‘OH MY GOD! OH MY-YOU KISSED HER! YOU IDIOT!’

Fred, who had just arrived in their shared dorm, toast in hand, laughed at his very dishevelled twin queries. ‘Kissed who?’

‘Y/N. I kissed Y/N’

‘ohhh…’ George’s forwardness made Fred drop his toast. ‘FINALLY!’ He exclaimed, scooting George over.

‘wait What?’

Fred places his palms under his chin. ‘Now tell me how this all went down. Y/n made the first move, didn’t she? Please tell me she did or else I owe Ginny 5 galleons.’

While George had a rather peaceful slumber, you on the other hand, did not.

Twisting and turning, mind still stuck on the same sentence. Ranging between the perplexity of ‘George Weasley kissed me?’ to the absolute euphoria of ‘GEROGE WEASLEY KISSED ME!’ .

You touch you lips, gently as if by the feeling of his lips on yours would be washed away if not treated with care.

‘I meant something like that. I didn’t wanna kiss you because of a game. I want to kiss you because you mean something to me’

His parting words echoed in your head.

You Mean Something to Me.

That means he likes you too right? He has to… the boy literally said it…well in the bare minimum implied it. Who in their right mind would deliver a world-shattering kiss to someone they do not fancy?

Though there is one slight detail that could offset this whole theory……

He walked away.

The boy kissed, professed his feelings then exited.

And people say that women are enigmas.

You sighed, you definitely need a fresh pair of eyes here.

The alarm clock on your bedside table flashes 6:39am.

‘Great…’ You muttered, the stupid kiss has kept you awake, overthinking for almost 4 hours.

Rolling over, you layered on a hoodie to your pyjamas. ‘Well, she would just have to deal with me this early.’

You silently make your way out, trying your best to not wake any of your roommates.

In your desperation, the fact that the Ravenclaw’s common room location albeit not a secret, it had completely flown pass your head that they had no password but rather a riddle.

‘Please, can I get an easier riddle’ you pleased to the eagle knocker.

‘Which came first, the phoenix, or the flame?’

You huffed, ofcourse it won’t go easy on you.

‘How would I know?!’ you scowled. The door not granting you entrance just further adds to tour irritable state. How many more things had to be confusing? First George and now this!

‘I wasn’t there! You didn’t even give me a time frame, you stupid door! Ouch!’ Recoiling back in pain, you were sent aback whether be it from kicking the door or it getting back at you for mocking it, you weren’t sure.

‘Give me the full picture. Like is the Phoenix dying? Then the phonics came first than came the flame. If not then it would be vice versa, only a pile of ashes is seen from which a phoenix would be born… or reborn.’

Gosh, were you thankful that it’s too early in the morning for someone to see you rant to a door.

‘You know what? Whatever!’ You sighed in defeat; you would just have to hide from George during breakfast.

However, as you turn to leave, the most extraordinary thing happened.

‘OH My---’ You gawked at the now opened door. ‘It WORKED?!?’

‘It was a valid argument to the constrains presented.’ The eagle knocker remarked, ‘Now it you please, enter quickly, you are letting a cold draft in.’

‘Th-Thank you.’

You’ve been into the Ravenclaw Common Room before and the rows of floor to ceiling bookshelves never fail to intimidate you.

Your eyes land upon the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw and the surrounding intricate tapestries, the soft glow of the sunrise transforming the circular room into a gallery fit for a palace.

‘Y/n?’ A voice called from the dark staircase.

‘AHH!’ You placed a hand to your chest. ‘CHO! What the heck?!? Don’t scare me like that!’

‘What are you doing here? How did you get in?’

‘OH uh… I ranted.’ You told her honestly.

‘You ranted.’ She said in disbelief.

‘Yes. But more on that later, I have more pressing matters.’ You stated, shaking the poor girl. ‘I NEED ADVICE CHO. CODE RED.’

‘CLEARLY.’ Cho sassed, dragging along to the sofa but you stood your ground. ‘y/n?’ Her tone now softer upon seeing your distressed face.

‘George kissed me.’

‘Whaaaaaaaaa?!’

You are utterly grateful for Ravenclaws minding their own business, a handful of early risers had gone out for breakfast passing you by. Ravenclaws no doubt has multitude of questions on what a Gryffindor is doing in their common room but had decided to not go down that rabbit hole and are more intrigued in guessing what breakfast specials there’d this last meal before Christmas break.

Though the more straightforward answer could be seen on Cho’s face.

It is too early to be dealing with this, but a friend is a friend. Though that doesn’t mean it stops Cho from internally swearing that her eyes are going to be permanently crossed from keeping up with your pacing about.

‘George kissed me and I didn’t even kissed me back-’ Pacing left, you recounted the previous night. As if sensing Cho call your bullshit, you caved. ‘okay fine! I kissed him back!’

Plopping face down onto the sofa, voice muffled by the pillow. ‘Is that what you want me to say?’ you demanded.

’I literally haven’t said a word for like over an hour’ uttered Cho matter of factly.

‘Sorry…’ You gaze up at her, pouting your lips as to make her forgive you faster before resuming to your grunts of ‘stupid George Weasley.’

Observing that your rant was over, Cho needed actual details in order to best help you. To help you out of this sticky situation or better yet some….realization, introspection…..That would be up to how honest you are with yourself. ’How was it though, was it…?’

You flop unto your back, mindless playing with your fingers as you recall, ‘It was like I was hit with a bunch of Cheering Charms.’

‘Really?’ Cocking her head, she continued. ’George was that good? How did he do it then?’

‘He just,’ Okay how were you to describe that magical moment? Wracking your brain but no words could do it justice. ‘He just like, grabbed me.’

‘uh huh’

Cho was unconvinced, so you decided to act it out.

Still lying down, you reach to the ceiling, clenching into fists. ‘and he took me, I mean it was strength, confidence.’

’mm hmm’

You brought your arms close to you, letting your eyes shut as you did so. ‘It was firm, but tender.’

’oh damn.’ Cho gasped.

‘oh yeah’ You hate how hot your face has become in a matter of seconds. ‘I saw through space and time for a minute, but that’s not the point.’

‘oh man what are you gonna do?’ Prompted Cho. This was it, the homerun, she thought.

‘I don’t know.’ You truthfully say. There are so many uncertainties, you genuinely don’t know. Wrapping yourself into a ball, you slip of the seat.

Leaning forward, Cho does the last trick on her list. The question that has been implied but left officially unanswered. ‘I mean do you…like George?’

You fake vomit. Your automatic defence system taking over. ‘bah yuck George? Ahhhh’ You tried to play it cool, chuckling. ‘Nooo!’

You’ve never told a soul! You and George are the best of friends-that’s the story.

Yet Cho’s unnerving brow challenges that narrative.

Halting, you swallowed.

‘Yes.’

Part 3, at the burrow will be coming up. So yeah.

It was supposed to be in this but I got carried away and got more inspiration from S2x16 where Nick and Jess had moments of albeit very panicked self-realization on the meaning of the kiss.

Taglist for this fic ‘No, Not like this’:

Thanks also for the support in part 1 and interest in reading more of the fic!🥰

@l0ttadreamz @vintagecherrypie106 @remmyswritings @jenniweaslee @iluvharrypotter172 @miaafrances @strawberriesonsummer @stressisakiller

Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #Fred and George Weasley #cho chang #weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #fandomscombine writes

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: 22 of the music prompts with Matthew Tkachuk please? “but you’ll never be alone / i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn” (dusk till dawn, zayn & sia) for @chuckythepest

Warning: fluff, maybe some angst, soft smut (I’ll be honest, I changed my mind about having a bit of smut in here or not and it’s not much but it’s there, so...)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry it’s taken me a little bit longer to write but hopefully it gives you what you’re looking for. I’ve never listened to this song so much in my life; I had it playing on repeat as I wrote this so I could really get a feel of what to write. My friend is a huge Matthew Tkachuk fan, really a huge Flames fan in general, but I have to admit I had to watch a lot of interviews to get a feel for the guy. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be an angsty fic or a fluffy one because the song kinda has both vibes so honestly, it’ll be an adventure for the both of us. If you enjoyed this one, here’s the entire list of prompts. Feel free to send your requests through! Stay Golden, loves <3!

masterlist

the other masterlist

You had been on a vacation with a few of your friends in Cancun for about a week when you got the news that everything was going into lockdown

“What does this mean?” your friend, Beth, asked as she paced around the hotel room

“It means that everyone has to stay inside for a bit” you said

“No, what does that mean for us?” she asked again

“I guess it means that we have to isolate when we get home” another of your friends, Jenna, replied as she dropped onto the bed

“I wouldn’t have left if I knew we were gonna come back to a total nationwide, international lockdown!” Melanie, your childhood friend shouted frantically

“Okay, everyone calm down...” you sighed, “we knew this was a possibility, as much as we might want to say that we didn’t, we knew that we could get home and everything would be shut down”

“So what do we do?” Beth asked

“We...” you stammered, not having the answers but trying your best to stay calm, “we listen. We do what we’re told -- isolate, quarantine, get tested, all of it -- and then hopefully it’ll be over soon.” Your words were like a curse because as soon as you got back to St. Louis, the world seemed crazier than it ever was. Months went by and nothing changed. People were still getting sick, still dying, and there were still people who thought it was all a hoax. Birthdays were spent apart, friends stopped making an effort to keep in touch and it made everything feel... cold and sad. The only thing that seemed to make any sense was your friendship with Matthew.

“What’s up kid?” he texted one day after a particularly hard week and you just about broke down in front of your phone screen

“I lost my job...” you sent back

“Ah shit, I’m sorry”

“It’s fine but thank you”

“It’s not fine”

“I mean, no, but it’s not like it’s just me. Half of the world has lost their jobs”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be all fine about it”

“Matt, seriously, it’s fine”

“You say that now and then two days from now you’ll get pissed about someone else getting promoted”

“I wouldn’t do that”

“Not on purpose but stress can do things to a person...”

“I’ll be fine but thank you for caring so much”

“Anytime!” you smiled at his concern before changing the subject, checking in with his family, asking him about what was going to happen with the season, “I have no idea... everything is still shut down until further notice”

“I hope things get better by Christmas”

“At the rate things are going, I don’t think they will”

“Way to stay positive, Tkachuk” you scoffed to yourself

“It’s what I do 😜” the conversation didn’t last long after that and you went on a spiral of looking and applying for jobs; everything came crashing down when you’re grandpa got sick and you couldn’t visit him. You called the hospital every day, not wanting your grandpa to be alone, but they wouldn’t let you in, ‘protocols’ they said

“I don’t know what to do, Matt” you sobbed over the phone

“Relax,” he tried, “we’ll get you in there”

“They won’t let me in!” you argued, raising your voice in anger, “he’s dying and they won’t let me see him...”

“I can make sure you see him.”

Matthew’s P.O.V

You were trying your best to get (Y/N) into the hospital to see her grandpa but it was taking a lot more effort than you thought

“Please,” you begged the doctor, “he doesn’t have anyone else. She’s not getting any answers and she just wants to see him, even if it’s to say goodbye”

“I’m sorry. I can’t break the rules for your girlfriend” the doctor replied

“No--” you stammered, trying to backtrack, “she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend and she wants to see her grandfather”

“I can’t break protocols for one person. We’re doing everything we can to keep him healthy and if we invite guests inside, it puts our patients at risk,” the doctor explained, “maybe we can set up a Zoom call”

“If he dies and she isn’t there, she will blame herself for the rest of her life”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice...” you angrily hung up the phone, throwing it to the side while you thought up a plan before calling (Y/N).

“The doctor said no...” you said solemnly

“What?” she whimpered, “Matt, he can’t be alone there. In a hospital, he needs to be with people who love him”

“They said they have protocols,” you added, “but we can sneak in there...”

“Sneak into a hospital?” she scoffed, “Matthew, we’re not spies. We can’t sneak into a hospital during a pandemic”

“Just trust me”

“What happens if we get caught? If we get in trouble?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it”

“I can’t le--”

“Just trust me” you interrupted, convincing her that everything would be okay and ending the call. You made your way to the hospital where (Y/N)’s grandpa had been checked into and asked around about how someone could have visitors

“They’d have to be tested before they came and then retested, temperature checked, when they got here,” a nurse explained, “and then they’d have to sit behind a barrier with a mask on. It wouldn’t be any different than most other places -- we’re following the same guidelines and restrictions, we just have to be 10 times as careful because we have lives at stake”

“But if a family member did all that, the tests and followed the guidelines, they could come visit?” you asked, feeling like you might be getting close to a solution

“Hypothetically?” she started, “it’s possible but there would be a time limit. Maybe 10 minutes maximum and even that’s pushing it”

“I can work with that!” you smiled under your mask and rushed out of the hospital, texting (Y/N) about what needed to be done, the two of you rushing to a testing facility as fast as possible and waited impatiently for the results. When both of your results came back negative, you told her you’d make a call and get her in to see her grandpa; she hugged you tightly before a tear fell from her eye onto your exposed collarbone. “He’s gonna be okay” you whispered

“Thank you,” she replied, keeping her arms wrapped around your neck, “for doing all this for me”

“I know how much he means to you” you smiled at her when she finally let go of you, her eyes softening at your words. You and (Y/N) met when your dad was drafted to St. Louis and had been friends ever since, celebrating each others successes as the years went by. Her grandparents raised her after her mom died and her dad took off, she was only six years old; her grandma died two years later so it was (Y/N) and her grandpa against the world. They were inseparable and she would’ve done anything for him -- including letting you sweet talk a group of nurses to get her into a hospital during a global pandemic. You watched as she made her way down the hallway, the lack of visitors and laughter making everything suddenly feel real, she stopped in front of a large glass door clutching onto the coat that she held in her hands as she waited for someone to let her in. A doctor finally let her in but stayed close by, pulling her out after 10 minutes had passed, not a second more, “come on, man,” you begged, “let her have a little bit more time”

“I can’t” he replied before looking at (Y/N), “I really am sorry.” She nodded at the doctor before looking back toward her grandpa’s room and tucking herself into your side as you made your way out of the hospital. You started to drive her home but after miles of silence, she asked if you could take her to the park where the two of you used to sneak out to

“Yeah, sure” you agreed, keeping your voice soft and letting her rest her head against the window for the remainder of the ride. When you pulled up in front of the park and parked the car, you looked at (Y/N) noticing a stream of dried tears on her cheeks before she swung open the car door and ran to the swings. She did this every once in a while, tried to ignore her pain and focus on putting a smile on someone else’s face by pretending she was fine. You could always tell that she wasn’t fine but you couldn’t always bring her out of it, “(Y/N)...” you sighed

“Come on, Matty!” she called, pushing herself on the swing to see how high she could get, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...”

“Why? I wanted to come to the park to play, not to talk,” she challenged, “if I wanted to talk, I would’ve gone home or to your place...” you exhaled as you walked toward the free swing beside her, your eyes following her as they tried to catch a glimpse of her face; trying to gauge whether or not she was crying. She didn’t stay on the swing too much longer, instead choosing to jump onto the Merry Go-Round

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” you scoffed

“No,” she answered with a laugh, laying down on the cold metal, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” You obliged, letting the sound of her laughter fill the air while the old playground equipment squeaked below her. As you kept spinning her, you noticed that her once happy laughter had been replaced by whimpers and you fought to slow down the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)?” you asked as you rushed to her, “what’s wrong? what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt...” she cried, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...”

“Shhh,” you tried to calm her sobs, letting her head fall onto your shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” she sobbed

“You’re not alone...” you whispered and she looked up at you, her eyes flooded with tears, “you’ll never be alone...” you could tell by the way she looked at you that she wanted you to kiss her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, fearing that she was too vulnerable and you’d be taking advantage of her. So, you continued to hold her instead, for as long as she needed but when she lifted her head up from your shoulder to look at you once more, she made the first move, pressing her lips onto yours as dusk set in and the two of you were the only sound either of you could hear. Your lips moved in sync with hers as your hands laid firmly on her sides; rolling her onto her back slowly so she didn’t hit her head. Her hands roamed to the top of your zipper, pushing the slider down before you tore it off your body quickly, leaving her lips for just a second to throw the fabric behind you. As much as you wanted this to happen, you were still being careful and she could feel your hesitation

“What’s wrong?” she asked

“Nothing,” you lied, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” she smiled.

When Matt started to drive you home, you asked him to redirect you to the park the two of you used to go as kids; so you could feel a little less like the world was falling apart

“Yeah, sure” he said softly before your head fell against the window as you waited for him to pull up to the park. You had managed to keep your crying quiet enough that, when he saw you, Matt was surprised to see the stream of tears on your cheeks. You pressed your lips together before you rushed out of the car toward the old swing set, jumping on and trying to get as high off the ground as possible

“(Y/N)...” Matt sighed and the tone of his voice was all too familiar so you ignored it

“Come on, Matty!” you laughed when you called to him, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...” he tried but you shook your head. You just wanted to forget what you’d just seen, forget about what was happening, forget that you might have to be alone again and you really didn’t want to be alone again

“Why?” you urged, “I wanted to come to the park to play not to talk. If I wanted to talk I would’ve gone home or to your place...” he finally walked to the swing next to you and began pumping his legs to meet your height before you could feel him watching you, leading you to hop off the swing and head to the next piece of equipment from your childhood; the Merry Go-Round.

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” Matt scoffed as he followed you to the metal death trap that you climbed on

“No,” you replied, chuckling at his question before lying down, your exposed skin meeting the cold metal below you, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” He compressed his lips and did as you asked, spinning you quickly and you laughed as you got increasingly dizzy with every turn before your grandpa’s face popped into your head; tears overcoming you as whimpers left your lips. Matt quickly dug his feet into the ground to stop the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” he rushed to you, pulling you close to him, “what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt,” you cried as you remembered your grandpa in the hospital. He was all you had and the idea of him not being with you terrified you, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...” you shook your head frantically at the thought

“Shhh..” he hushed you, letting your head fall on his shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” you sobbed

“You’re not alone,” he whispered and you felt his body move closer to yours, just to close the space between you, your eyes continuing to brim with tears, “you’ll never be alone.” Whether it was your fear of being alone, of losing the only person who had ever loved you, or if you just wanted to be close to someone, anybody, you looked up at Matt with soft eyes, hoping he’d make a move. But he didn’t. He just held you and, as nice as it was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You lifted your head once more, this time moving your lips closer to his as the sky filled with the dark hues of dusk, his breath brushing across your skin before your lips connected with his. He pressed his hand against your waist as he kissed you slowly, your lips parting just enough for his tongue to inch into your mouth before he shifted his body to lay your back onto the Merry Go-Round, holding your head with his free hand so you didn’t hurt yourself. Your hands found their way to the zipper of his hoodie, sliding it down and pushing the fabric from his arms and he left the kiss just for a second to easily throw away his hoodie, leaning back over you while you waited for him to continue kissing you but he pulled away

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up as he did and you leaned against his back

“Nothing...” he said but you could tell he was lying, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” you scoffed and he turned his head back to you

“I know you do,” he smiled, kissing your nose playfully, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to”

“I want to” you replied, placing your hand on the side of his face to bring him closer to you, pressing your lips against his and twisting his body back on top of yours. You melted into each other, your breathing in sync as you undid the button of his jeans, setting him free before his hands drifted to push your leggings down. His lips trailed to your neck as he pushed himself into you, eliciting a quiet moan from you and a growl from him when you dug your nails into his skin. You tried not to make too much noise, worrying that the park was still too close to the neighbouring houses, but every once in a while you whined out a curse word

“Fuck,” Matthew moaned out before you could, “oh god” he grunted against your neck as he continued to pump in and out of you, your back arching to gain more friction

“Shit,” you whimpered, “fuck.” His speed increased and you giggled when you heard the Merry Go-Round start to squeak

“Shh” he chuckled

“I’m sorry” you laughed back, trying to focus more on the pleasure than the noise and after a few minutes, Matt released inside you and rolled to the side. You curled up beside him, placing your hand on his chest before you fell asleep next to him. You woke up with the dawn, letting Matt sleep while you watched the Sky lighten

“Good morning” he cooed, kissing your shoulder as he sat up

“Good morning,” you smiled, turning to lay a kiss to his lips, “we should probably get out of here before someone rats us out” he laughed but nodded in response, grabbing his hoodie from the ground and wrapping it around you. You watched him drive smoothly through the streets and you smiled to yourself

“What?” he smirked

“Nothing,” you replied, “I just... like you a whole lot”

“That so?” He chuckled to himself

“Yeah”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like you a whole lot, too.” He reached out his hand to interlock his fingers with yours and a flush of heat ran through your body. He had managed to make you forget about everything for a while and you were grateful to him for that but you were still scared that you’d end up alone in the long run. “Hey,” he said, seemingly catching your eyes fall to your lap, “I meant what I said last night”

“What?” You replied, furrowing your brow

“You’ll never be alone. I’ll always be here for you”

“Thank you,” you smiled, dropping your head on the headrest, “for everything.”

“Any time” he smirked, bringing your hand up so he could kiss it while the two of you drove silently back to his house.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk fic #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #Matthew Tkachuk request #Matthew Tkachuk prompt #Song Prompt #Music Prompt #dusk till dawn #dusk till dawn prompt #ZAYN and sia #request #fic request #imagine request #prompt request #song prompt request #masterlist #the other masterlist #hockey #nhl

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lesbian-deadpool · 4 years

Text

New Surroundings

Part Two Of Two: “Glad To Be Home.”

Part One

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1,975

Warnings: Lil bit of sadness + grief, talks of brainwashing, flashbacks. It’s pretty much just fluff.

Request: Yes! For anon for donating to BLM!! Thank you so much!

Summary: Maybe you can restart.

A/N: Idk. I thought this was p good.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

Booming laughter surrounded the space around you.

Peter had run up to where you "fell", asking worryingly, if you were okay. Along with Natasha. As you slowly sat up.

The spider's panic soon turned into relived chuckles, joining you in laughing at the situation.

With a few deep breaths, your laughter died down, allowing you to gaze up at the joyous red-head above you.

***

Natasha hovered over you, her cheeks visibly hurting, thanks to the smile you had put on her face. Her eyes closed with how hard she was laughing.

She had to be the most beautiful person you had ever seen.

She was.

She was swaying side to side, arms struggling to hold her weight, while those beautiful sounds flowed from her mouth.

Unable to handle it anymore, Natasha flopped down beside you on the cushiony bed. Covering her face with her hands, as the giggles still poured out of her.

"Are you-?"

"We were supposed to be having sex!" she managed to get out, making you laugh yourself. "But you had to go and say that!"

Chuckling harder still, you reached over and grabbed Natasha's hand. The Russian taking initiative and threading your fingers together.

You turned your head to the side, watching your girlfriend pant away.

The only things going through your mind at that moment being:

You were gonna marry that woman one day.

You couldn't wait to laugh with her for the rest of your lives.

***

The sun shone in her bright auburn hair, green eyes twinkling in happiness.

She had your entire attention.

Natasha saw the way you were looking at her, with a smile on her face, she cocked her head and softly asked, "What?"

You shrugged.

"You're stunning."

And she only got mere beautiful, if that was even possible, with the light blush dusting her cheeks.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

"Really? Well-"

"Uh, guys?" Peter waved. "I'm still here."

You chuckled at the teenage boy's words, turning to face him, as you pushed yourself up from the ground.

"Yeah, yeah, we know," you said, ruffling his hair, "Don't worry. You're pretty, too."

"Really?" Peter asked hopeful, while you and Natasha laughed softly.

"Yes, Peter," She nodded, patting his shoulder in assurance. "You're very pretty."

The smile that took over the boys face was full of joy and stayed that way as you lead the way back into the compound.

***

It was a few months later when the next memory like that rocketed into your mind.

You were busy cooking in the compound kitchen. Just some simple burgers for you and Peter.

The others could feed themselves.

You would have made Natasha one if she hadn't been out on a mission for the past month.

Peter was drolling on about his homework, it boring him beyond belief. Nodding along to his words, hoping to find something that could help him.

Then it hit you.

***

The streets of New York were relatively calm, considering the time of day. And you were enjoying your quiet stroll, with Natasha by your side.

The red-head was talking animatedly about a story of Clint accidentally rolling off of the roof of his farmhouse, and almost giving Laura a heart attack.

You couldn't take your eyes off of her lips.

The way she smiled as she spoke about her best friend.

You swooned at every little giggle she made. You couldn't believe how much you were acting like a schoolchild, with a silly crush.

But you just couldn't help it.

Natasha had some sort of spell over you.

And here you thought that Wanda was the witch of the team.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" you asked, shaking yourself out of the daze she had you in. "What's up?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Uhh... yeah! Clint thought Laura had gone into labour, with how much she was screaming."

"Y/N," she said blankly, "I said that five minutes ago."

"Oh..."

"What were you thinking about?" Natasha asked with a smile.

"Um. Nothing."

"What were you thinking about?" she repeated, pushing your shoulder gently, still making you momentarily step to the side though.

"Nothing," you insisted.

"That's bullshit, and you know it. C'mon! Just tell me! I won't say anything to anyone, you have my word."

You said nothing, only shaking your head with a smile, and moving your eyes to look up at the sky. To avoid looking at the persistent Russian, now walking backwards in front of you. As she held onto your arms.

"Y/N, please!"

"Oh my, God. Are you begging? Do you really hate being out of the loop that much?"

"There's a loop? Who else knows?"

"No one, Natasha!" you laughed.

"Then what is it?!" she exclaimed happily, "Just tell me. I'll get it out of you, and you know I will. So, you might as well just tell me now."

Natasha stopped you in your place, right in the middle of the sidewalk.

You sighed, knowing what she said to be true.

So, you told her.

"I was thinking about you."

"Me?" she wondered, "What about me?"

Shrugging, you continued, "I was thinking about how cute you were, and how much I loved seeing you smile. I was thinking about how you have reduced me into a school kid with this overwhelming crush I have on you. Literally, everything you do or say makes me swoon, and think "how can someone be so perfect?", Natasha."

Natasha gasped as you spoke, looking into your eyes with this soft wondrous look, that you hoped you were reading right.

"I was thinking how much I wanted to kiss you. And maybe one day be lucky enough to love yo-"

You were cut off by Natasha grabbing onto your shirt with one hand, and bulling you down into a bruising kiss. Her other hand finding its way in between the strands of your hair. As yours flew down to her waist, pulling her in closer.

Yeah...

That was a pretty amazing first kiss.

***

"Why is Spanish so hard?"

You were brought back into the present by Peter's words. Looking down, no longer cooking the burgers, now in the middle of assembling the burgers.

Well, at least you were still productive as you had a flashback.

You just hoped you hadn't missed much that the kid had said.

"I don't know, kid," you said, glancing over your shoulder, "Maybe it's because you're trying to learn a whole other language."

"Yeah..." he said, almost bashfully.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Placing his meal in front of him, you placed your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Pushing him gently. "These things take time. I just wish I could be more help."

"It's not your fault," he said through a mouth full of food. "I'm glad you're here to help me. I just wish that Miss Romanoff was here, she's really good at languages."

And it was then that you were harshly reminded.

Natasha wouldn't be back for another five months.

"Yeah. So do I."

***

Raindrops splatted down upon your leather-clad shoulders. The weather wasn't so bad, just gloomy and drizzling, the perfect setting for your current situation.

Staring at your old friend's gravestone.

Daniel Petersburg.

"I'm so sorry, Dan. I'm sorry that I wasn't there. I'm sorry I wasn't at your funeral."

I'm sorry that I can't remember you since the army.

You knew that it wasn't your fault. Not really. It wasn't your choice to get captured and tortured so much that you couldn't remember the last eleven years. Your mind was a dark cavern when you thought about those years.

"And I'm so fucking sorry that I haven't come to see you sooner."

"He forgives you." You looked over your shoulder, to see the person who spoke softly to you. Smiling easily at the red-head. "He was like your brother, of course, he forgives you. He wouldn't even want your apology."

"I know," you said, taking one last glance at his grave. Before you turned to face Natasha, "So, you're finally back then."

"Why? You miss me Y/L/N?" she asked, with a teasing smirk.

"Of course I did," you said sincerely, "I... I've remembered some things since you've been gone."

"Really? Like what?"

"Many things." You took a step closer to her. Gazing into her emerald green eyes, feeling like your soul was pouring into those iris'. And you couldn't find it in you to care. If, that be the case. She could have your soul. It was hers. It always has been, always will be. Just like your heart. "I remembered the team, how I did basically adopt Peter."

Natasha laughed shortly at that.

"But mostly. Mostly I remembered you."

"Me?" she asked, hopefully.

"Of course you. I remember our first kiss. The time we almost froze our asses off, when Tony accidentally locked us out of the tower. Almost all of our anniversaries. Our first Christmas, together. The dreaded fight of '15 that made us break up, for a few months. I remember how much I missed you during them... but none of that compares to how much I missed you when I was on that mission," you list off, enjoying Natasha's reactions as you did.

"You remember the mission?"

"Yes- Well, some of it. There's still so much of my life that I need to remember." You looked up into the dull sky, watching as the gloomy clouds slowly made their way from above you, revealing the calm blue sky in its wake. "There were maybe two years, where I remembered everything. Or almost everything."

You took a deep, calming breath, before continuing, "During those two years, they tried to brainwash me, but it didn't stick. They're persistent bastards I'll give you that. Throughout those two years, I remembered every day. The pain. The way that my mind felt like it was slowly melting. Like fucking ice cream. But the thing that made me hold on as long as I did- That made my mind hold on," you corrected, "Was you."

Natasha's eyes were swimming with tears as you spoke. A few threatening to spill overboard, with your last statement.

"Every day- Every fucking second, I thought of you. You were like my lifeline. I lived through every moment of our lives together. The good. The bad. All of it. Over and over again."

The grass underfoot squelched lightly as you took another step towards her. Now close enough that you could reach out slightly and take her hand in yours.

Which is exactly what you did.

"You kept me alive."

Your heart broke when Natasha sobbed out softly. Squeezing her hand in yours, as she wiped away her falling tears.

But still, she let you carry on. Sensing that you weren't finished yet.

"Now, as I said before, I don't remember everything. Hell, most of it's still dark. But, I do remember how you made me feel. How much I loved you." You took her other hand, and pulled her even closer to your body, barely a few inches between the two of you now. "I can't promise you that I'll remember everything any time soon. I can't promise that I'll ever remember everything. But if you'll have me. I'd like to be in love with you again. Like basically hitting the restart button, while I watch the memories of my life play along with it."

You both got a little chuckle out of your analogy.

"So, what do you say?"

"I think you're delusional if you thought I would ever say no," Natasha replied, wrapping her arms around your neck, and pulling you into your first kiss, for almost seven years.

Love flowed through your heart and soul, spreading into every crevice of your being.

With that kiss, you thought only one thing.

You were gonna marry that woman one day.

***

Permanent Tag List:

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU #fics for BLM

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ THE DRAWING ❜

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hi lovely! No idea if this'll make it in for the first 10, but please can I request one with Creeper where you're a bar tender for the club but you draw in your free time. Creep has a crush on you and one day one of the guys tease you because they realise you're drawing Creeper and he defends you because he thinks its super sweet and then asks you out on a date? 💖

BY @mycupoffanfiction

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl, who is making me such beautiful gifs ✨

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“LOOK AT THAT!”

You were peacefully drawing before starting your turn at the clubhouse, sitting on a couch on the porch. In front of your pencil, Creeper was fixing something in the engine of his bike. Until Angel takes off your sketchbook from your hands, laughing and with the clear intention of teasing you, calling everyone attention. Jumping off from the couch, you try to grab it, but when he decides to raise his arm over his head, you know that you're fucked up. You have been badly in love with Creeper since you met him. He used to be extremely kind with you, always taking care of you of whatever you need, without having to ask for it, or without complaining about it.

“Angel, give it to me”. You have one hand on his left shoulder, jumping and trying to reach the sketchbook with the other. But he's so tall, that you can't grab it.

“WERE YOU DRAWING CREEPER?” He starts to laugh louder, feeling your cheeks burning and stopping every move of your body, to punch his chest.

You can't turn at Neron, really ashamed, running inside the clubhouse to hide yourself. Bishop and Taza look at you from the pool table a little confused, until they hear the conversation outside.

“Damn… It's really good”. EZ says, touring with his eyes every minimal detail.

“Let me see”. Gilly holds it after cleaning his hands, nodding in agreement. “She fucking drawn his tattoos, damn”.

“Hey, yo', shitheads!” Creeper takes the sketchbook of his huge fingers, closing it without looking at it. “Yo' fucking assholes, leave the kid in peace”.

“Carnal, you should see it”.

“If she doesn't show me, I'm not allowed to see it. Neither of you all”.

Knowing that you were drawing him really melts his heart, starting to think that maybe you too feel something about him. Walking towards the bar, the president moves his head pointing at the hallway to the dorms, making him nod just one time. But actually, he just has to follow your sobs and the curses in spanish to the closed bathroom.

You're sitting on the floor, against the wall, with both legs curled and surrounded by your arms. The only thought that crosses your head is that, if you could have any chance with him, Angel burned it down. You shouldn't draw him, at least, not without asking. And probably he must be thinking that you're crazy or that it's weird. Or both. You don't even know if you're going to look him at the face again.

The knocks on the door pushes you out of your thoughts, raising your crying eyes terrified. Breathing deep, you get up from the floor, walking slow to it. Slightly opening the door, a tattooed hand appears holding your sketchbook.

“Did you…?” You whisper with a low tone of voice, taking it.

“No, and I'm sorry about what Angel did”.

Finally, letting him see you, he clicks his tongue a little upset.

“I'm sorry too for… drawing you. I hope they don't annoy you for much long”. You have your gaze on your feet, unable to lift it up.

“Can you show it to me?”

Frowning confused, and narrowing your eyes, you look for the sketch with trembling fingers. Turning it under them, Creeper leans forward taking some seconds to admire it. He likes it. Actually, he likes it too much. You have drawn him perfectly, not knowing about your skills with a pencil. He's really fascinated, holding the sketchbook to look at it closer. As he heard Gilly, focusing somewhat better his orbs, he can see the tattoos on his neck perfectly placed over the paper. Even the badge of his Harley is on it.

“Didn't know you… can do things like that”.

“Tell me you're talking about the draw and not about being… creepy”. You mutter rubbing your nose, slowly raising your gaze towards his. The gesture on his face races your heart, with parted lips

He suddenly breaks into hoarse laughs, shaking his head, and you can swear that it's the best thing you have ever heard. Fleeting smiling you tear off the drawing to offer it to him.

“Keep it, if you like”.

“Really?” He asks slightly frowning, moving your hand close to him, insisting. “Yo! Mama… thanks. It's pretty cool. I mean… You draw in an amazing way”.

He holds it between both hands, smirking at you like a child who is receiving the best Christmas gift of his life.

“I was thinking that maybe you would like to share some beers, after finishing your turn”. You can notice how he's trying to hide the nerves in his voice, surprising you for both facts. For the invitation, and for his feelings.

“Ah… Yes… Yes, 'course!” Quickly answering, you nod taking a step to get out of the bathroom.

“'key. So you can tell me about this hobby”.

“Yeah, sure”.

“Cool, ah... I have to go back. See you later”. He says, leaning at you to kiss your cheek.

You can watch him walking away through the hallway, happily focused again on your draw. And you're not sure how to feel, but you're about to have a heart attack.

While working in the bar, serving beers and shots with EZ, you have caught Creeper some times looking at you from his seat, spending more time inside the clubhouse than outside, like it's not normal for him. But what makes you tickle in your stomach is the way he has to push away every Vicki's girl who tries to sit on his lap, or to sit too close to him. And maybe that means something.

“Hey, kid. Table”. Tranq appears through the glass door.

Checking the hour on the screen of your phone, you get somewhat nervous when you notice that your turn is already done. Palming EZ's back, you step out from the bar after cleaning your hands, leading your steps to the inside of the Templo. The olders are there, counting money and dividing it into four rows. One is yours.

“Sorry about Angel, querida”. Bishop says when you're close to him. You just shrug.

Putting inside an envelope your salary of the last two weeks, he offers it to you.

“Yeah, he's a little stupid sometimes”. Taza chuckles, surrounding your waist with an arm and resting his head on your other side.

“Nah, it's okay”. You reply, putting an arm on vice's shoulders.

“You okay with Creep'?”

“Yes, yes. Don't worry. We are gonna share some beers now”.

“Uh, I'm feeling jealous”. Che says laughing loud.

“Nah, you are my fav”.

“That shit hurts, kid”. Tranq adds with feigned annoyance.

“Go get your boy, kid. And enjoy”. Bishop says, before letting you go to have your own party.

The other Mayan is already waiting for you with two cold beers in his hand and a cig in the other, sitting on a sofa next to his brothers. You can feel the same nerves on him that inside you, when you finally meet again. He gets up showing you a huge smile, placing one of his tattooed arms around your back, ignoring a ‘you are welcome’ from Angel. He's actually very proud of what he did unconsciously, looking at you two stepping out from the clubhouse to the sofas on the porch. Falling down on it, you curl your legs over it and against your chest, grabbing one of the drinks to have a sip.

“Why did you start to write?” He finally asks, seeming so interested in it that your insecurities come up.

“My… parents used to fight every day when I was little. I was stressed, so I… started to scratch a paper with a pencil until it was totally black”.

Maybe it's not what he was expecting, but now he looks more focused in every word your vocal chords pronounce.

“But it started to be insufficient. And I found out that concentrating all my senses in drawing, it was like I was alone in the world. So, now it helps me to disconnect, whenever I feel low”.

“You weren't feeling okay this evening?” Creeper asks, sounding worried.

“Yeah, no… I was feeling okay, I mean… I was just stalling and you looked good fixing your bike”.

“Yeah, I saw that”. He can't help but laugh nodding, drinking from his beer after having the last smoke.

“Did they… tease you too much?”

“Nah, I don't care. At least, I earned some kind of date with you”. Crashing softly the two bottles, he makes a toast. “For the first of many more”.

“Okay, next time, I wanna talk about your tattoos”.

“That's gonna be a long one, mama”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @claytoncardenasbabymama @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #neron creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas #creeper

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

Adore you

Peter Parker x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, of course

The request:

More dom reader and subby pete pls!!! maybe something like a badass shield agent reader? and peter having a crush on her and there goes the smut? hope u like this idea, take ur time!!

I've been holding onto this for a couple of days now. I'm quite proud of how it turned out, I had to stop for air quite a few times as I wrote it so beware. This is my Christmas gift to you, consider me your Naughty Pagan Santa🔥

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"P-please" Peter's desperate plea broke the silence. His voice was hoarse, wrecked, no louder than a whisper and at first you weren't even sure he had spoken, but then he begged again, "Please, please!"

You were torturing him, breaking him, shattering him to dust and then putting him back together again, building him anew to your liking, and he wasn't sure how much more he would be able to take without losing his mind. He felt your smile against his hip bone and dared looking down, teary red rimmed eyes meeting yours, ablazed and alluring, every bit as beautiful as the first time he had seen them. He had lost himself in those eyes more times than he could count, and yet he could map them to micrometric precision, dozens of pictures on his phone dedicated solely to them, to their idiosyncrasies and nuances under different lighting.

He never thought he could have this, never thought he could have you: Y/n from biology. Agent 16, S.H.I.E.L.D. level 7. "I guess it's something we have in common," You had said, "we are both liars." Peter had wanted to argue that it wasn't the same thing, but it was hard to complain as you drove away from the angry mob of Mysterio stans you had saved him from. You had been fast, efficient, one quick drive to Manhattan, to the helipad of the ex-Avenger's tower (now property of S.H.I.E.L.D.) and before the day was over, you both were out of the city, out of the country, on that desert island just the two of you.

The feeling of your tongue, hot and wet on the v of his hips pulled him back into the present. You sucked a little pineapple cube, cold against his fevered skin, into your mouth, before chasing down the drop of juice the fruit had left behind with your tongue. Peter dug his fingers on the white, soft sand, searching in vain for purchase. He squirmed, a steady stream of 'pleasepleaseplease' falling from his lips, as you ate a piece of cantaloupe off his abs.

You were using his body as a plate, eating fresh fruit off it, a new torment to add to the long list of wicked, delicious ways you had been playing with him all afternoon. You had been pleasuring him for a couple of hours now, and he was delirious with it, overstimulated. He felt immaterial, disembodied, undone. He was soft clay under your hands, under your mouth, under your tongue. Your touch was the only thing shaping his reality, shaping him. So what if the whole world knew Peter Parker was Spider-Man? He wasn't either of them anymore. Here on this island, laying under you, he wasn't the next Tony Stark or the last Avenger; he was just 'baby boy', and 'tiger' and whatever else you choose to call him.

He was free.

He didn't have to save any body, because you had saved him, didn't have to decide anything cause you gave the orders. You could take care of him, all he had to do was surrender to you.

You crawled up his body, tiny slice of watermelon between your lips, and Peter immediately parted his, to let you glide it into his mouth. It tasted faintly of your strawberry lip balm, making his head dizzy with longing.

"Please" he croaked again, after swallowing the sweet, juicy fruit.

"What do you need baby boy?" You breathed, hot against his ear.

"To kiss you" he panted, "please, let me kiss you"

You complied, and he finally got to taste your soft, warm mouth. Strawberry lipstick and cherries and himself and he loved it, loved that sharp bitter tang on your palate. His fingers buried themselves in your hair, pulling you closer to taste it better. Only when you pulled away, giggling a little maliciously, did he realize his mistake.

"Bad, bad boy" You leaned back, disentangling from his fingers, sitting up and away from him.

He paled,

"No, please, I'll do anything" He moved to get up too, but caught himself at the last second, your disapproving glare all that was needed to halt his movements. You smiled to yourself, he truly was insatiable. After coming so many times that afternoon, he still looked heartbroken at the prospect of this little game of yours ending. With his big brown eyes full of tears and bottom lip wobbling slightly, he was just too God damn adorable, and you… well, unlike him you were only human.

But he still needed to be punished.

"You like what we do, baby boy?" You inquired, sitting back down, straddling him, pressing yourself against him, only the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms separating your core from his gorgeous, naked cock. "You like the way we play?"

He nodded frantically as you started to rock on top of him, tearing a moan from his lips.

"Do you like the things I do to you?"

"Yes, ma'am" he groaned. You ranked your fingernails down his chest, down his stomach.

"Do you like it when I touch you?"

"Yes! Oh god…"

You reached back, untying the scarf you had turned into a bandeau. Peters hands twitched, but he kept them by his sides.

"Do you like looking at me?"

"God, yes!" He cried, as you rubbed yourself down on him harder, faster, "I love it, love watching you! I - I love.."

You stopped moving, making Peter whine loudly, fists hitting the sand like a little boy throwing a tantrum.

"Do you want to touch me?"

"Yes! Please, please ma'am, please let me touch you…"

How could you ever say no to that? You nodded your permission and chucked as Peter's hands went straight to your breasts.

"Can I…" Peter hesitated, not wanting to push his luck. But judging by the way your head lolled back, you seemed to be enjoying his touch, and that gave him courage. "Can I put my mouth on you, ma'am?"

You smirked, looking down at him through half shut eyes,

"Such a greedy boy…" You scolded, but tugged him up to a sitting position anyway, capturing his lips again. The feeling of your nipples against the naked skin of his chest had him moaning into your mouth, and you swallowed it, devoured it, dominating the kiss as you were dominating him. Your hips started to move again, by their own volition, and his followed in kind, until you both were breathing hard. You broke the kiss, pulling at his soft curls, guiding his mouth to where you wanted it. He wasted no time at nibbling and sucking, rolling your nipples with the tip of his tongue, first one and then the other. He had a naturally talented tongue, and you couldn't wait to see what else he could do with it.

"I'm going to ride your face until I come" you were proud of how steady and commanding your voice was, "and then, I'm going to ride your cock until you come…"

His answering broken sob let you know he was ok with that idea.

"And then… then I'm going to keep on ridding you… gonna go on… and on… I'm not going to stop until you give me all your come…"

"Yes, oh my god yes!"

"Until it's gushing out of me…"

"Yesyesyes…" Peter was close, so so close. Between the rocking of your hips and your words, he was seconds away from bursting, and you knew it.

That's exactly why you stopped, and pushed him away from you, watching him fall back onto the sand. It was just for show, of course. He was way stronger than you and, if he wanted to, he could easily flip you, overpower you and have his way with you. That only made the adrenaline rush greater, knowing how powerful he really was, knowing he was giving up all that power willingly and placing it on your hands to do with it, with him, as you pleased.

To use him as you pleased.

...You had always loved big guns.

"I'm going to give you a choice now, tiger" You spoke over the cute little whimpers escaping his throat. He was so precious, so innocent, you almost felt bad for corrupting him like this. Almost. "I am going to do all the things I just promised, I won't stop you from coming again. And you can keep on touching me while I do those things to you… or you can keep on watching me, but not both"

He met your eyes and you could see the conflict behind his. He looked about ready to cry, fingers trembling where they rested on your thighs, brown orbs never leaving yours, imploring. You straddling his waist almost naked, free and unashamed under the clear summer sky, were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he didn't want to give that up. But the thought of taking his hands away from your soft skin, from your lovely body, was almost physically painful.

"I-I can't" He stammered, a little pathetically but he was long past pride, "please, don't make me choose"

"Then I guess I'll have to choose for you"

You tried to pry his hands away, but he held on tighter.

"No! No, please, I wanna touch!"

You leaned over, taking your abandoned silk scarf from the sand, tying it around his head and over his eyes.

"But I wanna see you!" He complained petulantly. Such a brat… you were going to love breaking him.

"But you misbehaved, baby boy" You reminded him, "You touched me without permission, and now this is your punishment. I can't just let you off the hook now, can I? Can't let you think you can get away with anything…"

"But-"

"One more word" he felt your hand squeeze his balls softly, warningly, "and you'll regret it"

He snapped his mouth shut.

"Atta boy" You approved, rewarding him with a filthy open mouthed kiss before standing up. Peter didn't have time to protest before something, a piece of cloth hit him square in the face. He fisted it in his left hand, the wet patch letting him now right away it was your bikini bottoms. Peter pressed it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

"Dirty boy" you tsked from somewhere near his pelvis, startling him. He felt your warm breath against his cock right before he felt your searing tongue, placing one long lick from base to red, angry tip.

"F-FUCK!"

You laughed and then you were gone again, only to flick at his nipple a moment later, making him cry out. You kept on toying with him for a few minutes, a kiss here, a suck there, until finally, finally, he heard your knees hitting the sand at either side of his head as you slowly lowered yourself, hovering right above his mouth.

He ventured a lick, but you backed away. He gave chase, straining his neck, but you always raised yourself just enough for him to be unable to make contact, until he frustratedly grabbed a hold of your thighs, using his superior strength to force you down onto his face.

"Holy fuck!" This time, it was your turn to curse as his tongue made it straight into your soft, velvety insides, delving deep, crashing unexpectedly with something cool and sweet. He twirled his tongue around until he was able to take it into his mouth, moaning as he bit down onto it. You had buried a strawberry inside your pussy for him to find.

And you called him dirty.

He swallowed and thrusted his tongue inside you again. You were sweeter than the strawberry and he wondered idly if his Spider half had anything to do with it, if he could somehow taste your pheromones or something. Or if it was simply you, delicious and addictive all of your own.

You were making the most beautiful sounds, bucking your hips erratically, wave after wave of sugary nectar falling to his lips as his nose bumped against your clit with every one of your movements. And he was mad about it, mad about you, growling and moaning into your cunt. He couldn't possibly want you more than he did right then, cock so hard it hurt, pelvis grinding pitifully against nothing. But he wasn't important, this was all about you, about pleasing you, worshiping every inch of you. His amazon, his pagan goddess in a tropical paradise. Even back in Europe, hell, even way back in New York, all he had ever wanted was this: For you to let him adore you.

Peter had never understood the need to submit, what was about being tossed and ordered around that appealed so much to those men on the internet. Not until he met you.

Because from the moment he met you, he wanted to belong to you, to be your slave and follow your every command, fulfil your every need.

And now you were screaming, falling apart above him and he had done that, he was the one you were coming for. It made his head swim with pride and something else, something unnamed and powerful. He kept on lapping at your cunt, leisurely, slow like honey, until your legs stopped trembling.

You pushed his curls, slick with sweat, away from his forehead tenderly.

"Good boy," You cooed, "I'm so proud of you, you did so good"

A warm feeling spread out in Peter's chest at your words.

"Thank you, ma'am. Good enough for my punishment to be over?"

You laughed breathlessly as you pushed his hands away and stood up on slightly unstable legs.

"No, but nice try"

His pout was so cute you had to bend down and kiss it off his face.

"Pretty please?" He insisted, once he felt you straddling his thighs.

"Don't be difficult, baby. Don't you want to be good for me?"

"I d- OH" your hot hand around his shaft made him cry out, cutting his answer short. Had you known before a hand job was all it took to shut Peter Parker up… You would probably have done everything exactly the same, actually.

Peter's head was already trashing from side to side as your hand moved, deliberately slow. Up and down, up and down, up and down…

Up… up, up, guiding him into your tight, exquisite heat. He heard you moan as you buried his cock inside you to the hilt, pelvis kissing yours.

"You are… the best thing I've ever felt inside me"

He groaned his agreement, hands flying to your waist, as you started to move, started sliding up and down his cock steadily, imitating the same unhurried rhythm you used with your hand.

But your cunt felt so much better than your palm, all that wet, silky pressure over every lavish inch of him… up and down, up and down…

He felt you brace yourself on his abdomen, nails digging into firm flesh.

Up and down… up and down… Faster.

Faster…

"Peter… oh, god, you feel so good… So good between my legs"

And you felt like heaven, he wanted to tell you, but he was reduced to cries and sobs, to clutching and grabbing at your skin, fingertips eagerly searching any part of your body they could reach. You took one of his hands and lowered it until his thumb was right above your clit, your own fingers showing him how to rub just right to make pleasure explode inside your loins.

His eyes fluttered open underneath the blindfold. He didn't mean to, he truly didn't, he wanted to be good, he wanted to obey, but this? You riding him hard, coming from his cock and his fingers? It was a vision way too tempting to resist. He could see you clearly through the rainbow of silk threads, head thrown back in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent scream, little beads of sweat glimmering on your skin under the sun, sparkling almost as bright as the jewel colored water on the horizon behind you. And your cunt, juicy and red as the strawberries you favoured, stretched around his cock, taking it in over and over and over again, little contractions milking him, hungry for his come.

So he gave it to you, surging deep inside you, hips thrusting up to meet yours. You almost fell back, but he caught you in his arms just in time. Raising to a sitting position still buried inside you, he gathered you to his chest, the makeshift blindfold falling from his face.

"Hey…"

You smiled, a little drunkenly,

"Hey, stranger"

Closing your arms around his shoulders, you tucked your face into his neck. You were boneless, completely spent and sated, about to fall asleep, lulled by his soft caresses on your back, when you felt him start moving inside you again.

Definitely insatiable.

Tired and overstimulated, you tried to get up, get away but his arms, strong as steel around you held you to him, as he rocked beneath you, pubic bone smashing into your oversensitized clit with every drag. Pushing against his shoulder also proved completely useless, his hold on you only tightening, as he started fucking up into you harder.

You bit into his shoulder, making him groan.

"I think… think I like that punishment better…" He declared, grabbing your chin, holding you in place to kiss you, deep and dirty, only releasing your lips once your head was spinning, your lungs burning. You gasped for air.

"Naughty" You admonished, still struggling against him, albeit a little halfheartedly. He splayed one of his hands against your lower back, pressing you to him. The new pressure was delicious, the heat starting to build again, even if you didn't want it "You're so naughty"

He scraped his teeth softly on the hollow of your throat, only to sooth it with his tongue seconds later, his cock moving so deep you could feel it hit your cervix. You screamed, he was going to tear another orgasm out of you soon.

"Only holding you to your word" He whispered against your skin, making goosebumps erupt down your spine, "You promised not to stop… until I give you all my come"

To be continued...

PS: Let me know if you are reading this under the table during a horrible family reunion, I' love to bring you a little joy during these very difficult rimes... Love ya!!

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader fanfic #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland #peter parker imagine #adore you

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miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

Text

Last Christmas

Words: 2900

Warnings: Here we see the smut chapter. Fluff and smut.

A/N: again thanks to my homies @joz-stankovich and @robertsheehanownsmyass for encouragement!! Tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @bisexualnathanyoung

Chapter 3- White Christmas

Violet unlocked her door and dropped a handful of bags in the foyer. The mistletoe and pine still softly twinkling where Nathan left it made her flush at the memory of their kiss. She shook it off as she struggled to drag in a large heavy duffle bag she collected from the casino.

“Hey, Seamus Finnegan!” she gave a shout and smiled to herself. “Come help me with your shit! Also you've got eight hundred messages on your phone.” Violet finally faced her apartment and gasped. Nathan had decorated while she was out.

White lights trimmed the door to her balcony. The island where they ate earlier shared a similar style to the one above her front door: Pine and some bows and lights scattered throughout. There was a six foot pine tree in the corner by her television showered with white lights as well (in fact all the lights Nathan used were white. Some twinkled, some were stagnate). There were ornaments of every shade of purple, flowers and silver tinsel littered the tree, and again the pine around the wood of the table her tv sat on. Any bow used was a deep purple with silver trim.

“Oh, Nathan.”

That's all Violet could whisper as she ran her hands along the bough that lined the kitchen island. She knew in her heart he would open his mouth and ruin the feeling of contentment and she had right now. Something witty or obscene, so she kept quiet and allowed it all to soak in.

Making her way to the Christmas tree, Violet reached out to touch everything. It was real, solid. Nathan made all of these with his.. magic? She couldn't believe that’s what it was. Magic. He was magical.

His face certainly is magical, too she thought to herself. Cheeks hot as the sensation of his tongue in her mouth flooded her memory. It's been so long, Vi. What would it hurt?

Except it wasn't just about wanting to sleep with Nathan. He challenged her with his smart mouth. Always tacking on a statement that would get him the most attention. That he couldn't just say anything nice or complimentary without sexual or sarcastic wit sprinkled in. But he was vulnerable with Violet when he was still locked up and just last night as he lay dying in her arms. When Nathan trusted someone his walls came crashing down.

And he could be selfish, but so far he used his powers for others. The money he tried to steal to give Marnie and someone else’s baby a better life. Violet knew the young mother didn't steal the poker chip, Nathan gave it to her and told her to take off so she wouldn't get caught up in his mess. The decorations and breakfast this morning, carrying her to the couch instead of leaving her on the floor. That asshole’s tongue at the club. Even trying to comfort Violet as a knife stuck out of HIS chest.

And Violet assumed he drove everyone insane, himself included. Yet he survived. Or found a way. He survived being homeless and whatever went on in London after that storm that affected him and his friends (She googled it, would bring them up later). He even survived prison; for a guy like Nathan that was impressive.

Violet liked some of her clients. She even struck up friendships with the better of them. ACTUAL friendships where they called and hung out whenever her schedule allowed. But this was a tiny seed planted in her heart that started to grow and blossom like the flowers on her Christmas tree. They weren't supposed to see each other ever again, and Violet would be able to uproot her feelings for the flirtatious Irishman and throw them away.

Except he was in her apartment, occupying more than just physical space. With his stupid green eyes and even dumber way he laughed loudly at all of his own jokes before anyone else could. Let's not even start on his stupid, handsome face caught between boyish and a man like puberty couldn't make up it's mind during Nathan’s late teen years and just decided to linger into his twenties. Or his weird body with the baby Bambi spindly legs but muscular arms (with dumb scene kid tattoos) and that chest she touched. With all that death she figured he would be cold, but he was human. Hot blooded, warm-skinned human.

God dammit, Duval. You can't do this. He's probably just doing what he does best when it comes to you. Surviving until he gets home to London. Plus, he's like, way too young for you.

Her sisters were gonna have a field day with this tomorrow at dinner. Would Nathan even want to go with her? She was so lost in her thoughts, that she only just noticed the flowers decorating her tree were her namesake, violets.

Somewhere far behind, Nathan cleared his throat. Violet still jumped, plucking a flower off as she did. “Hope you don't mind I jazzed up the place. Rather boring for a bird like you,” he said with a devilish grin. “I wasn't sure what ye liked. I closed my eyes and t’ought of you and all this happened.” He swept his hand around the room.

“It's rather thoughtful for you.”

“Don't you mean thoughtful OF me?”

“No I definitely meant FOR you” Violet challenged.

For only the second time since they met, Nathan was rendered speechless.. Mouth agape, thick eyebrow furrowed in confusion as he grappled for a comeback and failed. It was only when Violet looked at him struggling that she understood what was going on with her guest as he casually lounged against the wall.

Nathan was wearing one of her sheets wrapped around his lithe body in a makeshift toga. A tinfoil halo laid crookedly on his shaggy head. Violet also took notice of the outline of his member under the sheet. She couldn't help but gawk knowing he was naked. He didn't bother with the wings, as if he was “angel” enough for what he thought he was doing.

Violet laughed out loud and covered her mouth to hide mirthful giggles. Tears sprang to her eyes, and at one point she felt out of breath. Nathan, meanwhile, had a crimson climb up over his face. His eyes betrayed that for once maybe there was some sort of embarrassment going on. He crossed his arms self-consciously and rolled his eyes.

“Are ye done having a laugh?!” just a smidge of hurt in his voice. “Last time turn myself inta a sexy angel!” Nathan jerked his hips and sneered.

“You look so cute! You halo did me in! Be honest,” Violet pursed her lips to express another giggle, “What are you doing?” She could feel the answer before he said it.

Nathan waltzed over to just a few feet from Violet. He ran a hand down the length of his body with mischief in his eyes, “Who me? I go on top, love.”

“Not if I have a say in it.”

Nathan’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “What if I get there first?”

“I've got way more experience than you do. And I always come out on top.”

There was electricity in the air.

“Key word being come,” Nathan’s voice came out sleepier than usual.

His eyes drifted from Violet’s down to her mouth then back up as he teeth bit his entire bottom lip. If that was meant to be seductive it worked.

Violet felt out of her body when she clung to the back of Nathan’s neck so she could bring his mouth down to hers. Their tongues doing battle as she got her fingers wrapped up in the back of his head. Nathan’s strong hands on the curve of her waist so that he could bring her lower half onto the bulge under the sheet. She moaned unintentionally into his mouth.

Nathan was a little aggressive the way he almost choked Violet with his tongue. She bit into it between playful and defensive causing him to back off. Only breaking the kiss to remove her shirt. Their bodies molded together again as they made out in the living room.,

His hands kept flitting over her body in quick succession like he couldn't decide between her shoulder blades or her ass. Making up his mind instead to start fumbling around with the clasp of her bra. To Violet’s delight and surprise he managed to unhook the thing and helped her slide it off.

In a whirlwind Nathan picked Violet up so that she could wrap her long legs around his thin body. Violet took note that he was stronger than he looked as they stumbled through the hall. Tongues at war again while Nathan crashed Violet into a wall where he devoured one of her breasts.

“Ow,” she winced but giggled into his mouth. Her nails deep into the skin of his shoulders and neck for balance.

“Not sorry,” Nathan mumbled.

He bit at a nipple harshly before sucking on it and repeated this back and forth. Growling into her chest with his face inside her cleavage. Violet laughed louder than she meant to at the absurdity.

“OI!” Nathan cried, but joined in the laughter this time.

Now they lumbered towards the bedroom, Violet tugged on his hair and cried out as his tongue flicked and devoured her nipples softer than before. Once inside, Nathan literally threw Violet back on to her bed towards the pillows.

“What the fuck?!” Her face hurt from smiling and laughter. Afraid of what might happen to her expensive Versace panties, she took them off before Nathan could tear into the fabric himself.

Violet bit her finger, her skin goose-pimpled in the cold air of her apartment. Her patience began to grow somewhat thin even as her sex started to pulsate at the sight of Nathan’s erection under the toga he fought with.

“Do you want help?” she offered.

Nathan waved her off and it fell to the floor. His cock surprised her with the still attached foreskin strained against the head. Then she remembered most European guys were still intact.

Violet's view was mostly a short one because Nathan crawled across the bed towards her. That Lord of Chaos shit eating grin from ear to ear as he palmed her knees. He spread them till they touched the sheets. He sucked on her collarbone and pumped a finger or two deep inside Violet. The palm of his hand meeting her sex causing her to buck unexpectedly while he repeated himself a few times. Her actions only encouraged him to keep going

“Where did you learn any of this foreplay? Porn? Trial and error? Juvenile girls with low standards?”

“D. All of the above.” He groaned into Violet’s neck. Fingers still gliding in and out of her.

“Have you ever been with an older woman?”

Nathan startled Violet by staring at her all of a sudden. “How old is older woman?”

Violet grimaced, “Nope. Nevermind.”

Before long, Nathan stopped using his hand and all too hastily started to lap at Violet. His tongue swift and sloppy over her sex not even bothering to find her clit. Rapidly he licked at her slit like she was an ice cream he tried to eat before it melted. It wasn't unpleasant but it wasn't exactly getting her off.

“Nathan?” she cried out the question. “NATHAN!” louder.

He raised his head, mouth glossed with her wetness. “Ahyep?” His eyes heavy with desire.

“This is oral sex, Lucky Charms. Not a fucking pie eating contest. Slow down and put your mouth here,” she brushed fingers over the top of her sex and spread it enough to show him her clit.

Nathan’s eyes widened and followed her finger to the bud of nerves she all but pointed at. “So that's what it looks like,” he marveled.

Violet glanced heavenwards but a part of her felt bad. “I'm being serious, has no woman EVER told you how to get her off?”

Nathan littered her thighs with kisses from the knee towards her pelvis. Making his way up the other to the opposite knee. He smiled at the way Violet’s body arched into the sensation. “Nah. Usually get a quick toss in then never see ‘em again. Marnie was my first missus.”

“Well then just use the tip of your tongue and make small circles.” Her breath caught when Nathan obeyed. “You can suck on.. Like. Fuck,” her hips writhed under his mouth “and just..” she mewled and lost concentration.

He caught on quickly. The rhythm of his tongue matched the way Violet rocked herself into mouth. More and more rapid he worked his tongue between circles and sucking. His actions and her wrapped up in a cycle of give and receiving

Violet vibrated. One hand clawed at Nathan’s neck. The other clutched the headboard as she felt electricity course through her. She bent forward at the power of her unexpected orgasm. The hood of her sex contracted around his tongue, liquified, she screamed his name.

Nathan pushed himself up and laid down on top of Violet before she could get her bearings. His tongue deep inside her mouth again as the head of his cock twitched and poked at her cunt.

“Na-Nathan, what are you doing?” she managed to catch her breath.

“Getting a toss in. Ye had yours, now it’s time t’give us a go. Right?” he teased her with the head slick already with his pre-cum.

“Not without a condom you don't.” Violet wedged her hands between her chest and Nathan’s to push him away. She searched around in her nightstand drawer, hyper-aware of the immaculate knife placed back inside. A flash of his dead body, but she held up a condom instead.

A kiss puckered on lips that fell. “A what?”

“You don't have condoms in Europe?” her eyebrow curved.

“Well sure but I've never used one.”

Nathan was so matter of fact it took Violet by surprise. Still, he took the package from her, hesitating to open it. He was rather tentative about what was inside.

“You've got to be fucking joking,” Violet took the rubber from him in haste and rolled her eyes. “I don't know where your dick has been.”

Nathan kneeled over her legs, his cock at perfect attention. “Aw COME ON!” he whined. “They're mostly clean council estate girls! Once there was one of those Thai ladyboys,” he stroked his chin, “but I didn't even realize my cock wasn't in a fanny”

“Fuck me.”

“I'M TRYING, SWEETHEART!! NO ONE’S EVER SHOWN ME HOW T’PUT ONE ON!”

Violet softened once more and sighed. She laid the condom on her chest and took Nathan by the waist to make him scoot towards her. For shits n giggles she raked her nails down his hips and he buckled with slight pain and pleasure. Violet smirked but took his cock in one hand while rolling the rubber over the shaft and down to the base expertly. She kissed his stomach, erection twitching as he came in proximity to get mouth.

Violet traced a fingertip over the stars he had tattooed down his pelvic bone. “What the hell possessed you?” She gazed up at him through her bangs.

Nathan caressed her cheek down to her lips where Violet sucked on his finger. She nipped playfully at it waiting for an answer. “It's shooting stars (stairs) all the way down t’ the milky fucking way”

Violet immediately regretted her decision to ask. Again. She had to remind herself he wasn't immature per se, more like stunted. Nathan had a good heart under the cushion of sarcasm and arrogance. A heart she placed the palm of her hand against to feel its steady beat.

“I'm only joking. Was a good place t’ hide it from mum. We can shag now right?”

Violet laid back on the pillows and opened up to him. Without hesitation, Nathan plowed into her. That pelvic bone collided with Violet’s as the breath escaped her lungs. Sweat gleamed along his chest and forehead mixed with the scent of her sex as his pace became almost ludicrous. There was pounding and diving into the hilt. As far inside of Violet as she allowed.

This is actually ok, she thought to herself as she attempted to match his speed and failed.

Violet laid under Nathan while he rutted like a wild animal. Breathless and panting as he attempted multitasking: Kissing her and fucking her. He failed at least one and opted to immerse himself in her hair as his body spasmed a release so violent and sudden all that escaped Nathan's throat was a strangled cry.

He collapsed on the pillows beside Violet and almost immediately passed out. She merely snorted, rolled away to check the time. It was then she felt soft, cold pinpoints on her bare arms and chest and hair. What was going on outside in the Nevada desert she registered as happening inside her bedroom.

Violet rolled over to face her lover. Snowflakes covered his bangs and long eyelashes. She held out her hands to catch giant fluffy flakes. Those same flakes fell inches high on her balcony but nowhere else. Violet snuggled into the chest of the man who slept beside her. Lost in his ecstasy, it appeared that he made it snow.

Nathan had given Violet her first white christmas.

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #nathan x violet #lord of chaos

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andyuris · 3 years

Text

So , your character works in retail .

I don’t know how many people go into detail when talking about what their character does for a living but I got this random idea to make a bit of a tips list when it comes to working retail especially if you’ve never worked retail before . This is coming from my own experience working retail for the last , I don’t know , 3+ years or so . If you find this helpful at all , give this post a like or a reblog .

The idea that someone is going to be fresh out of high school , come onto the scene at retail , and become manager is rare . The youngest I’ve seen a manager ( which the word can mean a lot of things : merchandising manager , key holder , etc ) is 22 . So just , you know , be realistic .

Age ranges vary . When I worked at Five Below , I worked with my GM ( general manager ) who was in his 40′s , the managers who came and went varied by age generally between young 20′s to mid 30′s , and the rest of us ? I would say most of us were in late teens / early 20′s . However , there were also a few teens that worked there and by teens , I mean minors . And no offense to minors , but working with minors is annoying as hell ESPECIALLY when it comes to scheduling . Minors can only work certain times and when it’s busy season ( holiday season ) , they get to peace the fuck out while you’re left breaking your back until one in the morning . You can use this for comments your character has about their job considering playing minors is weird so don’t do that .

Full time probably isn’t gonna be a thing , maybe . It depends on your job description , the place of employment , etc ( note : you might be able to get away with this more when it comes to convenience stores and grocery stores . A lot of them look for full time associates / produce associates ). MOST retail workers are part time meaning they get less than 40 hours a week and again , depending on the factors above , you’re probably looking at 20 or less hours a week give or take . Hours increase during the busy season ( generally around the holidays ) . But again , full time and part time depends . You can also be a part time manager where you’re getting probably 35 hours . You also get double your pay if you’re working a holiday ( Thanksgiving , Christmas Eve , etc ) . Some of your stock & produce associates are most likely going to be full time and I’m saying some .

THE PAY GENERALLY SUCKS . Granted , I’ve been lucky and some characters can be lucky too . Each job I’ve had in retail has paid above the minimum wage and I believe that varies from state to state . Five Below sucked the most until I became a manager . The non-profit I worked for was a little better. At my current position , I’m making the same amount i made as a manager at Five Below although less hours . You’re doing a lot of work for basically dust which is where a lot of retail worker frustration comes in .

We LOVE some customers but hate others . I have a few frequent costumers that I adore when they come in . These are the people I generally have conversations with . Others ? I don’t like them . None of us like them . We talk shit about them when they leave because they’re generally big assholes . I put on my costumer service voice for them and I get them through my line as quickly as possible .

Some managers are great , others aren’t . I do feel like when it comes to rp it’s a lot easier to say your character hates their boss and that probably brings more to conversation but not all of them are bad ! I’ve enjoyed most of my managers , or at least my General Managers .

Okay so , I don’t know if this is against customer policy , but sometimes , you get to take shit home from work . WHAT DO I MEAN BY THIS ? At a job I worked at , as a manager , we would do damages . Damages is basically shit that got broken in the store and we have to adjust that shit out . You know what sucks ? Having an item that has some minor ass flaw and having to throw it in the garbage . So yeah , we would sometimes take that stuff home although it was usually make up .Some of it was candy and shit . I remember a case got stepped on and my manager was like ‘ take it out and take it home if you want to ‘ . So yeah. Make your character’s make up collection work related ! They got that shit for free .

Holiday season is crazy . It’s long hours , a lot of people , and a lot less time being at home chilling . Your character might hate their lives during this part of the year . I know I did .

We talk a lot of shit . I think this can happen really with any job . Retail workers vent . We vent to each other . We vent to other retail workers who don’t even work at the same store as us because we all generally understand what we go through when it comes to our jobs . Is there another character in the rp working in retail ? TALK SOME SHIT .

Last but not least , as sad as it is to say , in retail , you are , without a doubt , replaceable . A lot of people working in retail think because they do so much that somehow the store is going to burn to the ground without them or that they will never get fired because who can stock the way that they do??? Let me tell you : A LOT OF PEOPLE . They’ll be interviewing someone for your position before you even make it out the door . So , yeah , want to spice things up for your character ? Are they the kind of people that think they’re entitled ? Then this may be a route to take at some point .

#rpt

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