#pick your poison challenge
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Stateside | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison
Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust.
He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.
When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.
Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.
Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.
Yeah, I'll be there.
Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?
He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause.
And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio.
"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.
"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.
Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."
Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."
Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."
Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight.
"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.
"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."
"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."
Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.
But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation.
"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"
"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.
They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."
"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"
Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."
"Deal," Jake said.
"Absolutely," Javy agreed.
Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.
But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters.
"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"
Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.
"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.
"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"
"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.
Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?"
"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."
"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face.
"Rooster. You're back."
The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.
"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox.
"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."
Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"
"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"
Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand.
Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."
"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand.
You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."
Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."
"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you.
"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."
You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."
He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."
Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.
You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite."
Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.
"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."
He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"
Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."
Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning."
When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"
"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."
While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."
Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you.
You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."
While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him.
"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"
His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.
"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."
Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked.
When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it.
"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."
He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"
You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"
Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.
"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning.
Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all.
"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."
Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps.
"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"
"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.
When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.
"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"
He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."
"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties.
"But you came back tonight."
You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."
Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"
You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars."
He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest.
You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."
"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"
"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"
Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."
Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"
"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile.
"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"
You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"
He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."
"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."
He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.
"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"
"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin.
"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"
Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.
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Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.
He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing.
Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."
Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment.
"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.
Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.
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The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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The Perfect Pink | Robert "Bob" Floyd
Summary: While bartending for Rolling Acres Retirement's Valentine's Party, you encounter a pink-cheeked man and his cherry-loving cousins.
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: all fluff with alcohol mentions
A Note From Mo: Here is my Pink Lady fic for @thedroneranger's Pick Your Poison event to go with this gorg moodboard! As a part-time mixologist and full-time Bob Floyd lover, this was such a fun concept to play around with and has inspired me to come up with more pink drinks. I've never been a Valentine's girly, but I fully believe this pink-cheeked WSO could convince me otherwise. To everyone who reads this, I love you bunches and bunches, all 365 days in the year!
It’s so pink. Horrendously. Abysmally. Pepto-bismally. PINK.
When you agreed to tend the bar in a pinch, a few bundles of carnations and candy pink paper hearts were your guess for the evening’s decorations. But when you showed up to Rolling Acres Retirement's Valentine’s Party holding a crate of soda water and a handful of shakers, your senses flatlined with the amount of pink covering every surface.
Petal pink tablecloths straightened over round tables; a small bouquet of magenta carnations attached to each folding chair and incensing the recreation hall of the retirement home. Heart-covered paper plates and folded napkins set up at each place setting, glittering confetti sprinkled around the tableware. The ceiling isn’t even a reprieve, a rainbow of fuchsia and rose and flamingo and blush balloons filling up every available inch of space.
Suzette on the front desk had complimented your dusky pink sweater - an appropriate choice for the holiday - but set against this backdrop you feel like another decoration. An oversized bauble that also makes cocktails and pours cheap wine.
And now, standing behind this makeshift card-table-turned-bar covered in bubblegum crepe paper, your brain might explode in a cloud of hot pink smoke. Counting out pours and trying not to slice yourself making garnishes is a struggle keeping up with all these orders. While the average age of the party goer may be eighty, they drink more than the 21st birthday bash you bartended last weekend. You’ve been here all of an hour and Mrs. Moscovitz has already downed three fuschia cosmopolitans.
While disappointed you don’t have more romantic Valentine’s Day plans - though, when have you ever had a date on this too pink day? - it’s fun to see who’s turned up to celebrate. White-haired couples are swaying on the makeshift dance floor, every shade of pink and red in their attire. Bridge groups and knitting circles are excitedly chatting at their respective tables, gossiping over who is in attendance and with whom. Even the staff have wide grins splitting their faces, enjoying the festivities that break up the bleak winter. It’s the least you can do to spend the holiday providing beverages for this crowd.
The best part is the families. While romantic love is thick in the air, so is platonic love. Family members of all ages have come out to spend the holiday with the residents. Mr. Gordon’s daughter and her family have driven hours to catch up over pot roast and sparkling cider while his grandson plays trucks over a pile of chocolates he snuck from Suzette.
Orders have slowed down and your eyes keep glancing over to Ms. Floyd’s table. The entire clan has showed up for dinner, dancing, and to take home a batch of her homemade snickerdoodles. Multiple relatives are taking up two entire heart-sprinkled tables. Your focus is mainly on the second table for too far from you, where the grandkids have been relegated to play cards and swap candy hearts to pass the time.
“Why don’t you go ask the pink lady for more cherries.” God, he’s cute. The only guy in this place near your age and his attention is stolen by a pair of toddler girls obsessed with the cherries in their Shirley temples.
You divert your eyes quickly when you realize he’s talking about you and your pink sweater. The girls giggle shyly, the high pitched squeals of glee as they convince him to go up instead. Fiddling with shakers, wiping down the counter, you try to stay busy as you physically feel him approach the converted bar and your trembling hands.
“Hi!” His smile is thin and nervous and his cheeks are pink, blushing from his little cousins and their antics. Also because you’re much prettier up close and he’s wearing a shirt he’d never normally be caught in if his grandma hadn’t picked it out.
He’s much cuter at this distance as well. Sandy hair combed neatly, one small strand slipping out behind his ear. Friendly cerulean eyes framed by golden wire spectacles, similar to the ones several of the ex-military men at Rolling Acres are sporting. His thin lips falter slightly as he takes in how well the pink of your sweater compliments your skin. God, he wishes he wasn’t wearing this shirt.
You spring into service mode and grab a fresh cocktail shaker. “What can I do you for?”
“I’m technically up here for some cherries.” You dutifully nod, hoping to hide the fact you’ve been watching him converse with the toddler girls in their matching baby pink dresses most of the night. You make a small dish of cherries up and push it toward him, shaking your head when he attempts to pay. “The thirty-eight cents of cherries is a small expense for a night those two will talk about for weeks. They’re on the house.”
He grabs the dish with a smile, but realizes he now has no excuse to stay by the bar. And while he loves his cousins, he’s on leave for a few more weeks and you’re really pretty. A few extra minutes wouldn’t hurt. He extends his hand with a timid smile. “I’m Bob.”
You reach out and shake his hand back as you introduce yourself, hoping the condensation coating your fingers isn’t too noticeable. He immediately commits your name to memory, happy to replace “The Pink Lady” with a name as fitting to you as yours.
He moves out of the way as a woman in a magenta scarf orders a round for her bingo group. Bob watches as you whir into action, pouring liquors and counting off ounces. The delicate way you garnish each drink so the owner feels special. Your gracious smile when a tip is stuffed into the heart-shaped velvet box provided to you for tips.
When the line at the bar dies down, he sidles back up to your makeshift station. Bob notices the way you eye the decorations warily, still adjusting to the deafening pink of it all. He drums lightly on the blushing pink tablecloth, catching your wide-eyed attention. “Everything all right?”
“Uh, this place is too…pink?” you laugh, gesturing to the overabundance of rosy hues surrounding you. For possibly the first time all night, Bob realizes that while you were the only pink thing that had his attention, it is suffocating in the recreation hall.
“Yes, yes it is,” he chuckles right back, eyes soaking in the offending decorations. There’s a comfortable air between the two of you, and he decides to push his luck for more time with The Pink Lady.
Bob clears his throat, pulse thrumming through his body. Tonight is his one and only chance to land a date with the pretty bartender.
“So, to go with the theme, what is the pinkest drink you can make me?” He wiggles his eyebrows, his best attempt at flirting. A hint of a giggle escapes as you purse your lips, contemplating his challenge.
“I can make you a pink lady.”
He narrows his eyes. “Is that a real drink, or have you named it after yourself?”
“It’s real, I promise.” You’re all smiles at his attention as you combine the gin, applejack, and grenadine with a splash of lemon juice. He really could watch you work for hours.
As you reach for the last ingredient, his eyes bug out. “Is that an egg?” He’s a Navy man, his normal bar only has cocktails with two ingredients. Since when did eggs go in cocktails?
“When you dry shake an egg white it creates this nice foam, adds to the drink.” While he wants to come across as open-minded and cultured, he’s hesitant. “If you don’t like it, I’ll make you something else.”
He’s bewitched as you pour the perfectly pink drink into a plastic coup, the creamy white foam rising to top it off. A cherry balances the rim, one that won’t be stolen by his mischievous cousins. As he looks between the freshly poured drink and you, he swears your cheeks are the same happy pink.
You push the drink toward him, excited to share something new with a customer. Always a gamble as a bartender, but worth it when you expand someone’s palate. He gives you a tentative smile, unsure if he’s going to like it, but he really wants to impress you. In return, you give him an encouraging nod, completely unsure of how this will go. He takes a sip, the frothy mixture coating his tongue.
As far as he’s concerned, the drink is named after you. Not too sweet, not too tart, a divinely balanced combination of flavors in a perfect pink concoction. Bob is convinced you would taste just as good, especially with a cherry. The thought makes his brain blank.
“Do you like it?” Your hopeful eyes are endearing. He wants to brush the strand of hair from your cheek and assure you that he likes it, that he’d like anything you made him because you made it. But you’re practically strangers so he stumbles over his words as he promises it’s delicious.
The bowl of cherries for his cousins still in his hand, Bob stands to the side of the bar and sips his tartly sweet drink, casually keeping up conversation with you as you serve other patrons. You’re glad for the company, enjoying the way he asks about your technique and mutters out the few things he knows about wine from conversations with his aunt. Despite the fact you’re working, it’s the best Valentine’s Day you’ve had in years with this bespectacled man watching you tend bar.
He’s just so cute, blushing his own special pink hue when your eyes connect while you shake up a few martinis.
“Uncle Bob!” There is no mistaking who is calling him over. Two identical heads pouting as they motion him over. His time with you is up. He gives you a sweet smile, trying to memorize every inch of your face, before motioning his hand filled with cherries in their direction. You bittersweetly grin right back, smile lingering as you start on Mr. Nickerson’s two merlots as you watch his broad shoulders walk away.
Oh, how you wish he would come back.
Because it’s a retirement home and not a frat house, by ten the party is wrapping up. You’ve exchanged shy glances with Bob a handful of times, but his family has taken up most of his attention with Navy questions and inquiring when he’s going to visit next. He barely registers the event is over before he’s rummaging through his mom’s handbag with his last attempt at salvaging the night.
You’re cleaning up your supplies when the Floyd clan walks past, all waving good night to you and the staff, thanking you all for a great Valentine’s night. The girls thank you for their cherries, a stem hanging from one’s lip.
Staggering at the end of the crowd is Bob, his cheeks flushed and palms tingling. He stands in front of your table, rocking on his heels, working up his courage. You give him a warm smile, thanking him for his company, and he completely melts. As he holds up his occupied hand, he hopes this works.
“Forgot to slip this in earlier.” His smile is tense as he jams a few dollars through the absurdly small hole in your improvised tip box. You thank him before both blurting out awkward goodbyes. As he catches up with his family, a pang rings through your chest. Disappointed he’s gone, never to be seen again.
Bob Floyd, a Valentine’s mirage you will remember fondly.
Once all your things are packed, you square things up with Suzette with your pay for the event and a promise to stop by to visit the residents later in the month. You schlep everything to the car, a mixture of emotions painting your face in the rearview mirror as you make your way back home. The weight of defeat keeping you from bringing anything inside except for that damn tip box you’re hoping will cover groceries for the week.
You pry open the velvet lid and are met with the best surprise.
There, at the bottom of your substitute tip jar, underneath all the singles the elderly stiffed you with, was a scrap of cheap rosy pink napkin. You unfurl it to see neat chicken scratch handwriting, the pen poking through the fabric in spots as he worked to write out his message with a phone number beneath.
I’m here until the 27th. Drinks on me? - Bob
Now that you think about it, maybe you do like pink.
taglist: @berryvanille @bobgasm @bradshawsbaby @cosmoeticss @creatchie8 @drxgxnslxyer @hangmanapologist @hiireadstuff @jessicab1991 @just-in-case-iloveyou @kmc1989 @maryelizabeth13 @petersunderoos96 @rhettsluvr @roosterforme @seitmai @sweetwhispersofchaos @topherwrites @xoxabs88xox @yuckosworld
join the taglist
#pick your poison challenge#bob floyd fic#robert bob floyd fic#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert bob floyd x you#bob floyd fanfic#robert bob floyd fanfic#tw: alcohol#top gun: maverick fanfic#top gun: maverick fic#bob floyd fluff#robert bob floyd fluff
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The Great Escape
Summary: All you wanted on your wedding day was some time alone with your new husband. Luckily for you, Javy was more than game to make an escape and has just the hiding place in mind.
Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 1.4K
Warnings: Suave Javy and fluff for days.
Notes: Back on my Javy agenda. Written for @thedroneranger's pick your poison challenge, with one of the prettiest boards I’ve ever seen. I’m so excited to be able to post it on her birthday of all days!
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You couldn’t contain your giggles as you slipped out of the ballroom, the sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and early 2000’s hip hop quieting as the ornate doors closed. All of your loved ones remained behind it, celebrating and more than halfway drunk from the open bar. But you and Javy craved a moment alone, and you were determined to get it, even if it meant sneaking out in the middle of an orchestrated dance battle Jake had agreed to start on your behalf.
One hand held the skirt of your dress up as the other was held firmly in his as you hurried down the long hallway, the sound of your heels clicking against the pristine granite floors mixing with both of your laughter.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” you urged, picking up your pace. Your mother hadn’t been far away from you all night, and you knew without a doubt she would notice you missing immediately and go looking for you. Like you thought it into existence, the door to the hotel ballroom opened just as you rounded the corner, Javy skidding in his shiny black shoes as he tried to keep pace with you without losing his grip on either your hand or the chilled bottle of Prosecco he had swiped from the bartender on your way out. You picked up into something closer to a sprint as she started calling your name.
You made a split-second decision and veered off into a stairwell, the heavy metal door hitting against the walls and echoing in the space. Javy’s body pushed yours into the cold, tiled wall, shushing you quietly even as he struggled to contain himself. You tried to stifle your echoing giggles, hoping to remain hidden. You both held your breath at the sound of clicking heels right outside the door, but once they passed by and didn’t return, you burst into more laughter.
“Wanna hang out here for a minute?” you asked, leaning against the wall as you caught your breath. Javy looked at you with a warm glint in his dark eyes, his lips curved into a smile just for you. The dim light filtering through the narrow windows cast gentle shadows on his face, and you could see when the look turned mischievous.
“I have a better idea. Come on, Mrs. Machado. Hike up that skirt, we’re going up.”
You squealed when he slapped your butt playfully, but the name sent a thrill through you that you didn’t even try and hide. You followed him up the stairs, your dress once again bunched in your hands. By the time you made it to the top, there were tears in your eyes from how hard the two of you laughed as you tripped over the material more than once.
“Why did I wear a ballgown?” you panted as Javy pushed open the door to the roof. He snorted, and the two of you spoke at the exact same time when you said:
“Your mother.”
“My mother.”
You laughed again as you stepped out onto the rooftop terrace, the cool night air hitting your flushed cheeks and providing a welcome respite from the chaos of the wedding reception. The San Diego city skyline twinkled around you as you took a deep breath of fresh air, taking it all in. The night breeze tousled your hair as you stood there, reveling in the stolen moment of solitude and embracing the peace that came along with it. It was the first time you had been alone with Javy since you slipped the new piece of hardware on his finger and said I do just a few short hours ago.
He wrapped his arms around you from behind, the cool bottle of the prosecco still clutched in his right hand chilling you when it bumped against your arm. "Mrs. Machado," Javy whispered against your ear, his voice filled with tenderness. He peppered gentle kisses along your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You tilted your head to the side, savoring the sensation as he continued to shower you with his affection.
“I love the sound of that,” you admitted freely.
Javy hummed in response, turning you in his arms so that you were facing him. He looked down at you with that same devastatingly handsome smile you fell in love with the moment you met him. He brushed a kiss across your painted lips, soft and sweet and not nearly enough for what you wanted. “Me too.” He leant his forehead against yours for just a moment, savoring the feeling. When he pulled away, he smirked at you and held up the bottle in his hand.
“Feel like popping this with me?”
“God yes,” you nearly moaned.
His eyes were fixed on yours as he carefully twisted the wire cage off of the bottle. The anticipation in the air was palpable as he held it at an angle, and with a swift motion, he twisted the cork and a loud pop echoed through the night air. Neither of you had taken into account all the running you had done to get to your rooftop destination so when the bubbles frothed over the rim, cascading down onto your hands and his, you both laughed in surprised delight, jumping away from the overflow.
“Smooth,” you joked, “you’re a regular casanova.”
Your husband winked dramatically, shaking off some of the excess liquid from his hand. “You know it, baby. To us,” he toasted, taking a swig before handing you the sticky bottle.
“To us.”
The taste of prosecco danced on your tongue as you took a sip, savoring both the sweetness and the moment you were having it in. You passed the bottle back and forth as you leant against the railing of the rooftop. Javy pulled you closer, his arm draped around you, pressing your body to his.
"I can't believe we did it," he said, his voice filled with awe. "We're married now."
You smiled up at him, feeling your heart swell. You couldn’t quite believe it either. "I know. It still feels surreal."
He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, sighing. "I couldn't be happier, Mrs. Machado."
"Me either, Mr. Machado,"
His eyes sparkled with a mix of love and adoration as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing caress. The taste of bubbles lingered on his breath, intoxicating you even more than what was in the bottle. You melted into his embrace, wrapping an arm around his neck and deepening the kiss. Javy’s hands wandered down your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. You gasped against his lips as his fingers traced the delicate curve of your spine, sending electric currents through your body. The taste of the wine mingled with the heat of your kiss, creating a heady blend that you wanted to bottle up and keep forever.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment, the world around you fading away into a blur of lights and distant laughter. It was just the two of you, the way both of you preferred.
When your lips finally parted, Javy's eyes locked with yours, full of an intensity that took your breath away. His voice was husky as he whispered against your mouth, “What are the chances we can go down and say our goodbyes and ditch the rest of the party?”
Your heart raced at the suggestion, unable to resist the allure of being alone with him. But you huffed out a laugh, absolutely knowing better. “You’ve met your new mother-in-law, right? We probably have ten more minutes max up here before she threatens to call the police and send out a search party.”
He groaned, cursing under his breath, though you knew it was playful. “Well, you know what that means then.”
You arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, scratching lightly at the back of his neck as you waited for him to elaborate.
A mischievous smile played on Javy’s lips and he pulled you impossibly closer with a hand on your back while the other covered the one holding the bottle of prosecco, raising it. He took a sip before speaking, the look in his eye wicked in the best of ways. “We have ten minutes to finish this bottle, and I have ten minutes to kiss your lipstick off so that everyone knows exactly what we’ve been up to.”
You giggled happily just as he kissed you, and you thought the taste of the sparkling wine would never taste as good from a bottle as it did from his lips.
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Main Masterlist
Notes: Happy Birthday, Jay! I hope I did Coyote Casanova justice for you💚
Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 as per usual!
#alli writes#pick your poison challenge#javy machado#javy machado appreciation#javy coyote machado x reader#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado#javy machado fic#javy machado imagine#javy machado x you#javy machado x oc#javy machado fluff#coyote x reader#coyote x you#javy coyote machado x oc#javy coyote machado x you#tgm fic#top gun fanfiction
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Daggers Open Bar: Pick Your Poison
Y’all, I had such a blast mixing your drinks! There’s a story behind every one—many of which I shared. However, what’s the full story?
I’m turning the tables, so it's your turn to select a dagger-drink combo and write a fic for the Daggers Open Bar: Pick Your Poison writing challenge!
The rules are simple:
Select a dagger-drink combo** and send me an ask to claim it.
You may use my scenario as a prompt or take your fic an entirely different direction.
Just be sure to incorporate the dagger and drink into your fic.
When you post: Find the corresponding drink, and link to the board in your post.
Use the tag pick your poison challenge
Tag me so I can read your fic and add it to the challenge masterlist!
This is a rolling deadline, but let's aim to post fics by February 14! Claimed combos will be listed below the cut—first come, first served. One writer per dagger-drink combo.
I cannot wait to read your stories! Cheers, babes! 🍻 xx, Jay
** Yuletide Greetings and Cherry Crush are exempt from this challenge. For my non-drinkers, there are non-alcoholic drinks available and any drink can be made non-alcoholic, so don't let that stop you from participating!
Pick Your Poison masterlist
✨ indicates completed story ✨
Bob
• Aperol Spritz | Buon Compleanno | @withahappyrefrain
• Arnold Palmer | Homegrown | @roosterforme
• ✨ Pink Lady | The Perfect Pink | @attapullman ✨ᴺᴱᵂ
• ✨ White Sangria | Oh the Weater Outside is Frightful | @auroralightsthesky ✨
Coyote
• ✨ Aviation | An Aviation Special | @beyondthesefourwalls ✨ᴺᴱᵂ
• ✨ Prosecco | The Great Escape | @beyondthesefourwalls ✨
Fanboy
• ✨ Cayman Jack | Later, Gator | @jynxmirage ✨ᴺᴱᵂ
Hangman
• Angry Orchard | Cider House Rules | @topguncortez
• Body Shots | Licked It | @mamachasesmayhem
• ✨ High Noon | Sundays are for the Boys | @roosterforme ✨
• Jack & Coke | Save A Horse | @seresinsbrat
• Sex on the Beach | Cake by the Ocean | @bellaireland1981
• Tia Maria | Nigthtcap | @whatislovevavy
Hondo
• ✨ Mojito | Minted | @ladylanera ✨
Phoenix
• Long Drink | Now Imagine Her Holding a Long Drink | @roosterforme
• ✨ Phoenix | Firebird | @startrekfangirl2233 ✨ᴺᴱᵂ
• Shirley Temple | Tastes So Good | @sylviebell
Rooster
• Blanton's | Giddy Up | @cherrycola27
• ✨ Kamikaze Shot | Stateside | @roosterforme ✨
• ✨ Long Drink | Long Day, Long Drink | @bellaireland1981 ✨
• Margarita (strawberry) | Pourin' All Weekend | @cherrycola27
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Schedule for the week of 02/04/2024 to 02/10/2024
Happy Sunday, my Lovelies! Here’s what we have coming this week!
02/06/2024 - TUESDAY - Firebird, a Phoenix oneshot for @thedroneranger's Pick Your Poison challenge!
02/10/2024 - SATURDAY - Chapter Fifteen of Sweet Home Alabama
Tagging some of my lovelies for awareness:
@atarmychick007 @the-romanian-is-bae @mshistorylover
@buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @praline357 @seitmai
@cheyrenee @trickphotography2 @abaker74
@marrianena-library @angelbabyange @temptest13 @kmc1989
@im-an-adult-ish @chaoticassidy @inkandarsenic @lynnevanss
@shanimallina87 @khaylin27 @mizzzpink @emma8895eb
@hookslove1592 @leahnicole1219 @djs8891
@midnightmagpiemama @itsdesiree86 @desert-fern
@horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s
@teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme
@thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls
#star's schedule#star writes#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fanfiction#star's sweet home alabama top gun au#pick your poison challenge
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it’s my most specialist little war cwiminal’s birthday so here’s a bunch of screenshots of him dying and being silly
#reed tag#fo4#fo4 screenshots#he gets exploded a lot#bo stop giving your character severe radiation poisoning and parasites impossible challenge#bo stop picking all the asshole dialogue options impossible challenge
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2023 Reading Challenge Check In
Halfway through the year and that means a reading challenge check-in!. A little behind the Beat the Backlist Bingo is 42% filled. As of yet, no bingo either. For the Pick Your Poison Reading Challenge I chose the Fortnightly level of 26. I’ve completed one category in 19 topics which is ahead of things. (I’m also taking advantage of the one Wildcard. So, the total sum is 20.) I’ve made progress too this, the last, year of my Francophone Writers project standing at 85%. So, all things considered, where I’m at is rather good. I’ve been having a difficult year and it has very much affected my reading. The second half of the year has a lot in store too. As always best wishes to all of you out there.
#what I'm reading#reading challenges#book blogging#beat the backlist#pick your poison reading challenge#mid-year update
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Pulling Back The Veil
Whumptober prompt filled: Day 22- Pick Your Poison
Summary: Crowley approaches Abigail to make a deal. After she turns him down, she gets help from another source.
Tags/Warnings: Demon Deals, Witchcraft, Magic, Supernatural Crossover
A/N: Also a part of the Walkernatural and Walkernatural Timestamps series
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42555171
#whumptober2022#no.22#pick your poison#walker: independence#supernatural#fic#demon deals#witchcraft#crossover#walkernatural#my fic#walker whumptober challenge
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In Defense of Shitty Queer Art
Queer art has a long history of being censored and sidelined. In 1895, Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was used as evidence in the author’s sodomy trials. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the American Hays Code prohibited depictions of queerness in film, defining it as “sex perversion.” In 2020, the book Steven Universe: End of an Era by Chris McDonnell confirmed that Rebecca Sugar’s insistence on including a sapphic wedding in the show is what triggered its cancellation by Cartoon Network. According to the American Library Association, of the top ten most challenged books in 2023, seven were targeted for their queer content. Across time, place, and medium, queer art has been ruthlessly targeted by censors and protesters, and at times it seems there might be no end in sight.
So why, then, are queer spaces so viciously critical of queer art?
Name any piece of moderately-well-known queer media, and you can find immense, vitriolic discourse surrounding it. Audiences debate whether queer media is good representation, bad representation, or whether it’s otherwise too problematic to engage with. Artists are picked apart under a microscope to make sure their morals are pure enough and their identities queer enough. Every minor fault—real or perceived—is compiled in discourse dossiers and spread around online. Lines are drawn, and callout posts are made against those who get too close to “problematic art.”
Modern examples abound, such as the TV show Steven Universe, the video game Dream Daddy, or the webcomic Boyfriends, but it’s far from a new phenomenon. In his book Hi Honey, I’m Homo!, queer pop culture analyst Matt Baume writes about an example from the 1970s, where the ABC sitcom titled Soap was protested by homophobes and queer audiences alike—before a single episode of the show ever aired. Audiences didn’t wait to actually watch the show before passing judgment and writing protest letters.
After so many years starved for positive representation, it’s understandable for queer audiences to crave depictions where we’re treated well. It’s exhausting to only ever see the same tired gay tropes and subtext, and queer audiences deserve more. Yet the way to more, better, varied representation is not to insist on perfection. The pursuit of perfection is poison in art, and it’s no different when that art happens to be queer.
When the pool of queer art is so limited, it feels horrible when a piece of queer art doesn’t live up to expectations. Even if the representation is technically good, it’s disappointing to get excited for a queer story only for that story to underwhelm and frustrate you.
But the world needs that disappointing art. It needs mediocre art. It even needs the bad art. The world needs to reach a point where queer artists can fearlessly make a mess, because if queer artists can only strive for perfection, the less art they can make. They may eventually produce a masterpiece, but a single masterpiece is still a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of censorship. The only way to drown out bigotry and offensive stereotypes created by bigots is to allow queer artists the ability to experiment, learn through making mistakes, and represent their queer truth even if it clashes with someone else’s.
If queer artists aren’t allowed to make garbage, we can never make those masterpieces everyone craves. If queer artists are terrified at all times that their art will be targeted both by bigots and their own queer communities, queer art cannot thrive.
Let queer artists make shitty art. Let allies to queer people try their hand at representation, even if they miss the mark. Let queer art be messy, and let the artists screw up without fear of overblown retribution.
It’s the only way we’ll ever get more queer art.
_
Like this essay? Tip me on Ko-Fi, pledge to my Patreon, or commission an essay on the topic of your choice!
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Whumptober 2022
Welcome to Whumptober 2022, in its fifth year of running!
To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone new, WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators, see what juicy whump they’ve created too! We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2022 Prompt List
No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY
Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | "This wasn't supposed to happen"
No. 2 NOWHERE TO RUN
Cornered | Caged | Confrontation
No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH
Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled
No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET
Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out
No. 5 EVERY WHUMPEE’S NEEDS
Blood Loss | Running Out of Air | Hyperthermia
No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE
Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall
No. 7 THE WAY YOU SHAKE AND SHIVER
Shaking Hands | Seizures | Silent Panic Attack
No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING
Stomach Pain | Head Trauma | Back from the Dead
No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT
Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm
No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS
Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding
No. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”
Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint
No. 12 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail
No. 13 CAN’T MAKE AN OMELETTE WITHOUT BREAKING A FEW LEGS
Fracture | Dislocation | “Are you here to break me out?”
No. 14 DIE A HERO OR LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A VILLAIN
Desperate Measures | Failed escape | “I’ll be right behind you.��
No. 15 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE
Lies | New Scars | Breathing through the Pain
No. 16 NO WAY OUT
Mind Control | Paralytic Drugs | “No one’s coming.”
No. 17 HANGING BY A THREAT
Breaking Point | Stress Positions | Reluctant Caretaker
No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE
"Just get it over with." | Treading Water | "Take my Coat"
No. 19 ENOUGH IS ENOUGH
Knees Buckling | Repeatedly Passing Out | Head Lolling
No. 20 IT’S BEEN A LONG DAY
Going into Shock | Fetal Position | Prisoner Trade
No. 21 FAMOUS LAST WORDS
Coughing up Blood | “You’re safe now.” | “Take me instead.”
No. 22 PICK YOUR POISON
Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction
No. 23 AT THE END OF THEIR ROPE
Forced to Kneel | Tied to a Table | “Hold them down.”
No. 24 FIGHT, FLIGHT OR FREEZE
Blood Covered Hands | Catatonic | “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
No. 25 SILENCE IS GOLDEN
Lost Voice | Duct Tape | “You better start talking.”
No. 26 NO ONE LEFT BEHIND
Separated | Rope Burns | “Why did you save me?”
No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT
Muffled Screams | Stumbling | Magical Exhaustion
No. 28 IT'S JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG
Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache
No. 29 WHAT DOESN'T KILL ME…
Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”
No. 30 NOTE TO SELF: DON'T GET KIDNAPPED
Manhandled | Hair Grabbing | “Please don’t touch me.”
Alternative Prompts List
No. 31 A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL
Comfort | Bedside Vigil | “You can rest now.”
Ringing Ears
Whimpering
Dazed and Confused
Touch Starved
Ambushed
Sensory Overload
Protective
Made to Watch
Quicksand
Adrenaline Crash
Stabbed
Carried to Safety
Crutches
Emergency Blanket
Tears
Event Info & Rules
~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask - A link can be found at the end of this post. ~
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “bee”, you can create something about bees, about yellow and black striped baseball bats or bees on bandaids. It’s up to you.
Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2022 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us, if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.
Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.14, #underpressure). If you post works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :) Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters using one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like to whump.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes, but it only counts once
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?
Of course!
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
See this post
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start writing early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
Just tag the word, ex. emeto
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
If you want your work archived on the blog, then yes. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2022 tag
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box :)
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
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ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ | natasha romanoff x hacker!reader
18+ minors DNI
warnings: mentions of alcohol, arguing, harsh language, explicit s*xual content
genre: angst, a lil fluff, a lil sm*t
word count: 2,060
a/n: reader is gender-neutral
You've spent far too long trying to be more than just a warm bed for the infamous Black Widow.
Oh, Natasha’s a poison alright.
An intoxicating, slow moving poison that captures everything it encounters. Her recent favor of the season’s no exception- hooked on something that kills you.
It’s not like Nat physically hurt, not at all. The problem was quite the opposite. Nat provided you near limitless pleasure at one cost-it’d never be love. That hurt worse than any physical pain the poor woman could imagine. The nights in the Black Widow’s bed would continue to stagger so long as that was understood.
You would never be Nat’s- no matter how much you wanted to be.
Despite her making this quite clear when you first expressed your interest, you couldn’t help longing for it. You’d had been her mission half a year ago, and quite the challenging one indeed. A propensity for computers coupled with a shitty moral compass led you to a lifetime of digital crime. The ante only seemed to raise every year, the stakes rising alongside the payment. You were good enough to get a job going after SHIELD, but not good enough to actually succeed. The client was pissed, and money was lost, but you shook it off.
When you awoke to the barrel of a gun and cold, beautiful eyes, you realized you didn’t cover your tracks well enough, either.
Thankfully, Fury was more interested in hiring you than killing you.
You hadn't been more than twenty four hours away from her since that day. At first, not intentionally. The next night, Nat took you out for drinks- mostly to make you feel less like a target.
It’d turned out that you two had great chemistry- talking the night away until it bleeded into the morning. She spoke about the Red Room, and how the Avengers gave her a second chance. It helped you feel better about your own morally gray life.
Many, many drinks and swapped secrets later, and your hands are full of red hair, mouth absorbed in the same woman who might’ve killed you a day ago. While your eyes are fluttering, Natasha’s hands disappear behind your pants, telling you how happy she is that you decided to join them.
Maybe it’s because she doesn’t leave in the morning, or because she invited you over again that night, but you thought it meant something. To make matters worse, Natasha seldom held anything back from you- the good, the bad, or the ugly. You were the same, sharing parts of your life that made you see your relationship as more than just a consistent hookup or even friends.
About a month and a half in, Natasha frustrately picked the lock to your apartment after waiting twenty minutes for you to answer. She walked into your bedroom to find you typing away at lit-up monitors, absorbed in your work, headphones muffling any phone calls or impatient knocks.
You flinched at the sudden removal of your headphones, gazing up to an angry scowl. To her dismay, this wasn’t the first time you’d gotten lost in your work and forgot she was coming by. The assassin was adamant that if you just gave her a key, this wouldn’t happen. You playfully joked that giving her a key would denote commitment. The red-haired woman laughed at the suggestion to the tune of your heart cracking.
In all the nights and weekends following, Natasha would continue to do things that left you feeling insane. Her actions said one thing, yet she always made it clear that this was never, and would never be a relationship. After a while, it started to feel like she just didn’t want to be committed to you, specifically. You worried if there was something wrong about the idea of being in a public, loving relationship with you- as opposed to just someone she fucked.
Tonight, like most nights, she’d let herself in after a particularly tiring day. Frustration and resentment boiled at the sound of her footsteps. She laid on your bed, illuminated only by lines of code, waiting for you to finish whatever new encryption Fury requested. Tonight, like most nights, you stared at the screen as swallowed down your hopeless pining with a fifth of whiskey.
Despite any ignored feelings, you relished in Nat’s company, speeding up your work to get into her arms sooner. You loved that she was comfortable with you, hearing her get up and head for the shower. Yet, the bitter, angry part of you hated that she would never love you in spite of any trust or comfort.
You listen to Nat return and open one of your dresser drawers full of her clothing to change (strictly for convenience, of course). Eyes still trained on your work, you return the kiss she graces on your cheek as she pours herself a glass as well.
When you turn your chair to Nat, she’s looking at you with one of those smiles that makes your stomach turn into butterflies. You take a second to admire her relaxed appearance, hair down and messy, in baggy, out-of-date clothing. It’s easy for her to make you forget you were ever upset.
You must have been staring too long, because Nat crosses the distance between you two. Before you can ask her how her day was, she straddles you in the chair, pulling you in for a deep, long kiss. Your hands find their way to her waist, pulling in her closer and sucking at her bottom lip.
Natasha’s hands cup your face gently, sighing into you. It’s not long before your kisses grow more hungry and passionate, hands traveling and caressing every inch you can. When she breaks the kiss, you’re completely intoxicated once again- dazed and longing for me.
“Hello to you, too,” she says, with cloudy eyes and a small grin.
“You started it.”, you reply distractedly, dancing your fingers along the waistband of her shorts.
Natasha gets distracted herself, by the program still running on your computer screens.
“You know,” she starts, running her hands through your hair. “I never understand what it is you do.”
You can’t hold back a laugh as you push your hand past the elastic, fingers pushing against the soft fabric of her underwear. Natasha lets out a quiet moan while her head droops back to your neck.
“I’m serious,” Natasha lamints. Her breath hitches when you pull her underwear away with your free hand, sliding your index finger into her entrance. “I want t-I wanna understand all of this.”
You are much too concentrated on eliciting more raspy breaths from the enamoring woman on top of you. You pump your finger into her with tender, slow strokes, feeling her wetness pool at your hand. Natasha softly whines your name into your neck, causing you to groan as you add another digit.
“Didn’t think you cared all that much,” It’s an honest admission, one that give without much thought. You speed up your fingers, curving against her walls right where you knew she needed it. Your own breathing becomes erratic, caught up in the way Natasha clings to you.
Russian curses come out short and heavy the moment your thumb brushes her clit. You grip her hip to keep her place, and more pleas of your name follow suit. It was the moments like these, when you knew that you were all she wanted, that made everything else worth it.
“I do care.”, she manages between moans.
The cracks in your heart start to come undone once more, taking you out of your lustful daze. For what was the 100th time in months, you had to tell yourself she didn’t mean a damn thing by that- she cared about you as much as the next person did, nothing more.
You ignore her and pick up your pace even further. The all-too familiar shudder of her body, accompanied by the velvety, strained moans from her mouth, told you that she was close. You quickly become reabsorbed in giving her as much ecstasy as you could. Natasha’s hands in your hair pull tighter as she gets lost in her own pleasure, forcing your gaze slightly up.
Her eyes are squeezed shut, mouth in an open gasp, burrowed against you like a lifeline. A moan of your own escapes at the sight. You think you could die just like this, with this perfect image of the most perfect woman.
Right as you’re certain she’s about to reach her peak, you draw circles on her throbbing clit, watching her body twitch.
“I love you,” Natasha’s words pass through your quiet and broken ears as she climaxes.
It sets you into shock, making you think you imagined it. In the few seconds that follow, neither of you speak, as Natasha regains her breathing and you stare at the ceiling, pissed off again and confused.
You feel Natasha shift, eyes making their way to your confused face.
“I-”, she starts to stutter, to which you roll your eyes and push her gently off your lap.
As you start to head for your bedroom door, her hands wrap around your forearm, yanking you back.
“What the fuck, Nat?” You rip your arm away from her, even more shocked by her aggression towards you.
The assassin simply stands, still stuttering over what to say. That only becomes the final straw for you.
“Get the hell out, now.” You swing the bedroom door open as you speak. All you wanted for months was to hear those words. Now, all you could taste was poison. She’d broken your heart time and time again. You’d spent so long learning to handle loving someone who’d never love you back. To suddenly act like she ever gave a damn after all that was insulting. Even if she meant it, how long did she really mean it for?
“You don’t mean that.” She has the audacity to sound hurt.
“Yeah, I do, leave. I’m not gonna let you keep doing this to me.”
“Doing what to you? I’m telling you that I care-”
“Oh suddenly now you care! After how many months of me begging for you to feel the same, now that I’m finally getting over it, you care?”, you shout as you cross the room towards her.
“I always fucking cared!”, she yells back, and you notice the tears brimming in her eyes, fists balled at her side. In all this time, you’d only seen Nat cry twice. Once, when talking about Yelena. The other when Clint lost his family. To be crying now because of you, felt like hell.
You immediately soften when you notice, tears of your own forming. You’re left in speechless shock yet again at her words.
“Then why say the opposite for so long?”, you ask, voice hoarse.
“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Everything good in my life goes away. I didn’t want to ruin this.”, she goes quiet herself, staring at the floor.
“You didn’t think telling me over and over again that we aren’t anything would make me go away?”
“You’re still here, aren't you?” Natasha gives you a shy smile when she speaks. It’s true- you were too addicted to Nat to let her go. Even just a minute ago when you told her to leave, you knew you’d be following after her.
“Honestly, I don’t know why. You made it clear how you feel.” She could joke about it all she wanted, you were still hurt and replaying months of rejection in your head.
“I’m trying to tell you I didn’t mean it, please.” The remaining space between you is closed while she takes your hands in hers. Her gaze locks onto yours, staring into teary, green eyes.
“I love you, that is the truth. I promise.” It’s never a challenge for Nat to break your resolve. Especially when you've been dreaming to hear the spy say that.
“How do I know you mean it? That you're not ‘gonna change your mind?”
You feel her thumbs graze over hand, a mischievous glint forming in her eyes. When your confusion grows, Natasha drops to her knees before you. As she lowers herself to the floor, she places kisses along your hands before moving to tug at your jeans. Whatever mixed feelings you still had, flew out of the door.
“Let me show you how much I love you.”
#mcu fanfiction#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#black widow x y/n#natasha romanoff x y/n#marvel fanfiction#natasha romanoff smut#seikkoiwrites
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Secretly crushing- Matt and Chris Sturniolo
Summary: You and chris are dating, matt has secretly liked you, you secretly like matt, and chris asks you about it, you try your best to deny it, but chris can see right through you and lets you have one little night with matt ;)
Warnings: Angst, Smut, oral (fem receiving), candaulesism (watching people have sex in front of you: i think this is the correct term) p in v, unprotected sex, degrading, threesome ish?, picture taking, praising, cream pie, Dom!matt!Dom!chris!Sub!reader, use of Y/N, squirting, multiple orgasms, begging, “sir” kink, picture taking, OVERALL FILTHY AS FUCK
A/N: I HAD SM FUN WRITING THIS!! this is my first attempt at writing something like this!! be kind pls
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The triplets and I have been friends since about 8th grade, I met Matt in science class, then met the other two, and became inseparable. were all 20 now, living in LA together. about a year ago Chris and I started dating. It has been absolutely amazing, we go out once a week on a date night, and he always puts me first, and the sex? oh, that's heavenly. I've always been closer to Matt rather than Chris, but I can't deny that I've always had a thing for Matt and Chris, when the boys and I hit high school, I could never pick between the two of them. all of my friends would always tell me 'If you had to pick between Matt and Chris who would you pick?' I could never answer that because deep down, I wanted them both, but I was happily with Chris.
Today the Triplets invited me to do a blind deaf and mute challenge for their channel, except because there was 4 of us one of us would have to be blind and deaf.
“MATT I WANNA BE BLIND” chris exclaimed
“Okay to solve this issue, i’ll be blind and deaf, chris can be blind, matt you can be mute, and nick can be deaf, is that okay?” i say standing in the middle of matt and chris as they argue about who’s who.
“i mean i have no issue being any of them” nick throws his hands up in defense.
“alright that works for me” chris shrugs his shoulders and smiles at me.
the fans knew about mine and chris’ relationship because chris and i was accidentally spotted on nicks live stream cuddling and kissing on the couch while he was on instagram doing a Space Camp promo, it was a rough adjustment, i was getting a lot of hate, but after a couple months people just kind of accepted it.
“So since we all got our parts we’re gonna get ready to bake cupcakes” nick explained to the camera.
i grabbed my Airpods Max’s and a bandana.
“i’m suprised you didn’t grab that cute silk blindfold you’ve made me keep in my underwear drawer” chris says behind me helping me put the bandana over my eyes.
“CHRISTOPHER” i use my hand and slap his arm.
i put my airpods on and start blasting my music. nick and i are jumping around singing the same song as our spotify’s we’re linked so we could listen together.
“NEVER HAD A BITCH LIKE ME IN YA LIFE” nick and i said in unison
“OKAY IS EVERYONE READY” i say screaming as i can’t hear or see shit hoping someone can guide me in the right direction of what the hell to do.
“she obviously can’t hear how loud she is” chris says in attempt to look at the camera but looking in the complete opposite direction of the camera.
i feel a pair of hands touch my shoulders and guide me through the kitchen because apparently i was standing out of frame. i assumed it was Chris, though chris never has this firm of a grip on my shoulders.
“THANK YOU BABY” i scream looking upwards trying to thank chris for helping me.
“what’d i do” chris looks around in confusion
“OH MY GOD NICK I LOVE THIS FUCKING SONGGGGG” i lean over and start shaking my ass thinking it’s chris “THROW SOME MO” not realizing it’s matt, he gets wide eyed, and his cheeks brighten up with a light shade of pink, but in his favor you can’t see it because his bandana is covering his cheeks. i feel someone grab and yank me away
“Y/N WATCH WHERE YOUR SHAKING YOUR ASS” nick screams holding my shoulders
“WHAT” i scream back
“YES Y/N” nick yells back at me, not being able to hear what i said
“OKAY CHRIS GRAB THE EGGS” Nick screams across the kitchen and i accidentally walk out of frame again, and the second i walk out of frame i feel the same grip on my waist this time guiding me back into frame. “IM SORRY CHRIS” i scream up at who i think is chris.
“MATT WHY DOES Y/N KEEP YELLING STUFF AT ME” chris says trying to ask matt for help “and where are they eggs” he walks around in practical circles
matt rolls his eyes and he walks to the refrigerator and grabs the carton of eggs for Chris and hands them to him.
“OKAY CHRIS OPEN THE EGGS AND CRACK THEM” nick tells right in chris’ ear
“HEY JACKASS I CAN HEAR YOU, YOU DONT GOT TO START YELLING WITH YA MOUTH” chris yells towards nick.
matt pushes chris out of the way and starts trying to tell nick to be quiet because of how close their neighbors are, me being blind and deaf i’m just chilling and dancing around to the songs that are playing.
“I WANNA HELP” i try to find my way to the kitchen island by holding my hands out infront of me making my way over to where the ingredients are.
matt is pointing at me and doing mixing motions with his hands trying to get nick to tell chris that i wanna help.
“WHAT ABOUT Y/N MATT” nick frustratingly yells. “OH OH CHRIS YOUR GIRLFRIEND WANTS TO HELP” he continues
“here Y/N” chris attempts to hand me the whisk and accidentally hands me the whisk with the dirty side facing me, i grab the whisk from the top.
“EW YOU HANDED ME THIS SHIT WITH THE EGG ALL OVER IT” i yell.
“OKAY Y/N I LOVE YOU BUT SHUT THE FUCK UP” chris yells back at me.
i grab the whisk and start mixing the eggs together at the best of my blind ability’s.
“okay matt’s telling at me to lower my tone so chris try to get Y/N to put a 1/2 cup of oil in the pan” nicks voice softens.
i drop the whisk in the bowl “I GIVE UP THIS SHIT IS NASTY” in my attempt to walk to the paper towels i walk over and almost hit the fridge but matt grabs my hips and leads me to the paper towel and hands me one. but again, being blind and deaf i had no earthly sense of who it was grabbing my hips.
“CHRIS STOP STOP” nick slapping chris’ arm to get him to stop pouring the oil into the bowl.
“OKAY NOW CUT OR RIP THE BAG OPEN AND POUR THE BAG INTO THE BOWL” nick screams again in Chris’ ear
“YOU THINK YOU THE SHIT?” i start yelling “YOU NOT EVEN THE FART” i continue singing along to the ice spice song blasting in my headphones, obviously in my own world, i start dancing around in the kitchen
“YES Y/N YOURE EATING THIS SHIT UP” nick exclaimed hyping me up “OH SHIT CHRIS STOP MIXING SO HARD WAIT LET Y/N DO IT” nick yells again grabbing the whisk and walking towards me and leading me to the bowl. i place the whisk into the bowl carefully and start mixing how i normally would and i feel matt (assuming its nick this time) grab my hand and slow my movements down.
“OKAY ITS MIXED UP NOW” nick once again yelling “NOW MATT IS GONNA POUR IT BECAUSE I DONT TRUST YOU GUYS TO POUR IT IN THE CUPCAKE SHEET” yelling in chris’ ear he throws his hands in the air.
“matt swear im gonna kill em, keeps yelling in my ear like a fucking animal” chris looks around at this point just talking to himself.
“OKAY WERE GONNA TAKE OUR STUFF OFF AND PUT THESE IN THE OVEN AND WELL BE BACK” nick yells before taking off his headphones, and tapping me letting me know to take off my headphones and bandana.
“nick you gotta stop yelling, you too Y/N” looking at me smiling
“i can’t hear or see, i was in my own world half the time” i say smiling back at him
“okay it says they gotta cook for 25 minutes” matt says reading the box to nick.
as the cupcakes are cooking we’re all in the kitchen cleaning it up from the mess we all made laughing at shit we did without realizing it, talking about how bad these cupcakes could turn out.
Chris pulls the cupcakes out of the oven and places them on the stove and we’re all looking at them admitting they look a little weird but still edible.
“okay we didn’t do HORRIBLE” chris admitted to the camera.
“i mean we definitely could have absolutely fucked these up so badly” i say laughing softly.
“WELL anyways that’s it for today’s wednesdays video! i hope you guys enjoyed it and we’ll see you guys on friday!” nick says before walking over and clicking the red button and ended the recording.
“so who’s editing, cause i don’t feel like it” nick comes back around to the kitchen island.
“yeah no i’m good, last time i edited i saw clips on tiktok over the poor editing i did” matt laughed
“i will” chris groans and walks to the camera grabs the SD card
“come on Y/N, i can go edit this and you can watch Gossip girl for the 50th time” chris smiled gabbing my hand and leading me to his bedroom.
“Y/N YOURE SO REAL FOR REWATCHING THAT” nick yells from downstairs causing me to giggle softly.
“okay ma, just lay down i got the rest” chris says in a soft loving tone with a smile on his face
as i lay down i turn on the tv to gossip girl and just lay down in the comfort of Chris’ room as he sits and gets on the laptop on his desk and begins to rewatch and edit the video with the occasional laughter.
“Y/N what the fuck is this” chris’ voice goes cold almost.
i get up off the bed looking a little confused “what are you talking about baby?”
he rewinds the video a little to see me grinding up on matt singing along to throw some mo “this isnt even the first either, you and matt flirted the WHOLE video, we can’t even fucking post this now, because of your dumbass” his voice raises
“chris, you do realize i couldn’t see or fucking hear right?” i turn to look at him who’s once loving eyes now filled with rage.
“yeah but don’t you think you should have KNOWN my touch?” he raised his voice. “in matter of fact” he starts and fast forwards the video “look at his hands, look at how they hold your waist, if you think that’s it hold on there’s more” he sarcastically says. “HERE, when you’re whisking his hands are GRIPPING on yours and you don’t even stop him” he stand off his gaming chair looking down at me.
“Chris i don’t know what you’re so pissed off for, i do understand we can’t post this now, but you’re mad because i couldn’t see or hear ANYTHING? me and matt are JUST friends chris” i say looking up in his eyes. deep down i knew i was lying, ive always loved matt more then a friend but watching these videos knowing it was matt now? i can’t help but feel a little turned on, i know it was wrong of me but damn.
“Y/N don’t lie, i see the way you look at matt sometimes, i’ve seen it since we were younger, but i thought maybe i had a chance, you can’t lie to me about how you feel about him” his voice stays in a deeper tone almost a hurt tone, but knowing chris he’s not gonna get all mushy with me.
“Chris what the hell are you even talking about?” i run my fingers through my hair.
“okay since you’re playing stupid, leave. i don’t care where the hell you go, just go away from me” his voice now in anger pointing at the door.
i press my lips together and nod before grabbing my belongings from his nightstand and slamming his door and walking downstairs.
“WOAH Y/N where are you going and why did you just slam Chris’ door?” nick questions.
i let out a sigh “he thought when matt was guiding me through the kitchen being BLIND AND DEAF, was me and him flirting, and when i accidentally starting throwing it back on him, BUT-“ i was cut off by nick
“OKAY FOR ONE, it wasn’t flirting, and for two, you didn’t mean it, you were blind and deaf, why is he so mad, i mean we can just cut those parts out, it’s not totally ruined” nick says in an attempt to justify my actions, matt was so deeply invested in his phone i doubt he even heard the conversation.
“well whatever, i’m out of here, i love you guys!” i say walking out of the front door carefully shutting it and making my way to the car.
i back out of the driveway and turn my music on to distract me of my thoughts but my mind clouds with thoughts of the way matt’s hands felt on my body, the way he grabbed my waist, the way i accidentally threw it back on matt. why was i thinking like that? my thighs subconsciously clenched together. god i knew it was wrong. but here i am, getting turned on over a man who is my best friend and my boyfriend’s brother. but he had this glow to him, it was addictive.
𝜗𝜚 The next day 𝜗𝜚
i didn’t really sleep much last night, i was anxious, horny, mad, all of the feelings in one. i lay in bed watching movies when my Phone pings, i turn it over to see a message from chris.
Owen 💍
Come over tonight, and wear something easy to take off.
is he for real? make up sex isn’t gonna fix anything.
Y/N
Chris? really? make up sex?
Owen 💍
Nah nah just trust me ma, you’re gonna love it.
Y/N
Okay okay i’ll see you at 6
what did he have planned?? but alas i accepted, i sighed and went to the bathroom and turned on my shower to wash my hair, and shave… for whatever reason. chris didn’t care about what i looked like but something definitely told me that i should shave.
6 o clock rolled around faster then i knew it. i did my makeup, curled my hair and threw on a tight, short, skirt and a white crop top with a matching black lacy lingerie set underneath it all.
i grab my purse and phone and drive over to chris’ shared house with his brothers. as soon as i get there i use my spare key and open the locked door, to find the living room empty, assuming they’re all in their separate rooms. i slowly make my way to chris’ room and knock a couple times.
“Chris.. it’s me” i softly say into the door.
“come in” he yells softly from the other side of the door.
i walk into the room and find matt and chris sitting on his bed looking at chris’ phone, i’m a little confused but i thought he wanted to have a sit down talk with me and matt about stuff considering how last night went.
“so Y/N” chris stands up making his way towards me “i want to first start off by saying you look amazing” he comes closer to me talking in almost a whisper while brushing his fingers tips on my cheek making me shiver.
i lean my head down “thank you” i softly smile.
“no talking” his voice gets sturn “im gonna be doing all the talking and you’re gonna listen like the good girl i know you can be” his eyes fill with lust.
i nod “yes sir” i bite my lip softly
“you’re such a good girl for me” he smiles.
“now since you want to be a little slut and try to flaunt around my brother… you’re gonna be treated like a slut and let Matt fuck you like one” he smirks.
“w-what..?” my eyes widen.
“you heard me. i’m gonna watch matt fuck you like the little whore you are” he spits holding my jaw between his thumb and pointer finger.
“understand?” he says gazing down at me.
“y-yes sir” i nod nervously.
“such a good listener for me yeah?” he smiles placing a soft kiss on my lips.
“now strip and show matt what kind of whore you are” he says and walking to his gaming chair sitting down manspreading.
i walk over towards matt who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, i smiling devilishly pulling the shirt over my head and throwing it on the floor and pulling my skirt down leaving me exposed in nothing but my lingerie set.
“you can touch her, no need to be shy now matt” chris spits adjusting himself in the chair.
matt grabs my hips pulling me closer to him harshly and admiring my figure before him, running his fingers up and down my waist slightly running his fingers over my clothed nipples which hardened over his touch.
“you’re so fucking sexy” matt says in a husk whisper.
“t-thank you” i smile at matt.
“nu uh stop talking. you’re only gonna speak when i ask a question, got it?” matt’s eyes darken with lust.
“y-yes sir?” i questioned him not knowing if that’s what i say, i know chris likes it but considering i don’t know how matt is, im nervous.
“you treat him how you treat me Y/N” chris speaks from a couple feet away admiring how i react under matt’s touch.
i nod softly returning my eyes back to matt still gazing at my figure under his fingers. he wraps his arms around my back to unclip my bra letting it fall off my shoulders, his eyes widen slightly at my bare breast as his lower lip goes between his teeth.
his lips attached to my breast taking my hard nipplr between his teeth sucking harshly making my head go back and a soft whimper escape my lips as he massages one breast and his lips around the other occasionally kissing my nipple and switching breast.
chris’ eyes never leave me watching me come undone from his brothers touch. “you’re such a whore Y/N” chris speaks under his breath.
matt detached his lips from my breasts and uses his hands to rip my underwear off my legs and picking me up and throwing me on the bed letting a whimper fall from my lips at his harshness. he adjusts himself between my legs and comes up to face me and places a harsh hungry kiss on my lips swiping his tongue over my bottom lip almost begging for entry. as soon as my mouth open slightly he uses his tongue to explore my mouth fighting my own tongue for dominance he obviously won. his hand creeps down to rub his fingers through my wet folds of my pussy and letting a soft groan to escape from his mouth at my own wetness.
“so fucking wet for me yeah?” he says smirking into my lips.
he stands up using his hands to grab my ankles yanking me to the edge of the bed and immediately attacking my pussy with his mouth leaving open mouthed kissed on my clit.
“M-Matt, so fuc-fucking good” i moan out struggling to get a full sentence out of my mouth.
chris chuckles from across the room in a mocking manner. matt continues to flick his tongue over my clit now using his middle finger to enter my aching hole and curling it upward leaving me a moaning mess with just his mouth and fingers. he whines into my pussy “you have the sweetest fucking pussy”
i moan in response as he adds his ring finger in me as his cold rings hit the entry of my hole over and over again. my hands goes down to run his fingers through his hair.
“did he say you could touch him Y/N?” chris stands up from his seat walking to the other side of the bed and grabbing my wrist to pin them over my head.
i violently shake my head as my legs begin shaking and my cervixs contracts around matt’s fingers.
“Y/N i asked you a question” he says sternly looking at me. “did he say you could touch him?” he spits looking down at my fucked out face.
“N-no s-sir” i stutter out in a whimper. “cl-close” i scream out.
“beg” matt mumbles against me.
“i-i can’t” my eyes roll back into my head with moans spilling out of me.
“beg him Y/N, or you’re not cumming the rest of the night, and believe me, you’re in for a LONG night” chris says smirking still holding my wrists pent above my head.
“p-please s-sir, i’m so, so close” i whimper out.
“beg harder” matt’s head lifts up looking down at me while his fingers plunge into my at a ungodly speed curling them upwards hitting my spot sending me over the edge.
“please” i repeat a couple times “i-ill be- good” my back arches off the bed.
“cum” matt harshly says, which is all it took to send me into a euphoric orgasm as my cum drips out of me and onto his fingers.
chris let’s go of my wrists smiling down at me with nothing but lust in his eyes as my eyes trail from his eyes down to matt who’s undressing himself pulling his sweatpants and underwear down in one swift motion letting his hard needy cock to spring up and hit his stomach, he was pretty close to chris’ size but matt had so much more girth to his.
“you like what you see?” matt taunts.
i nod with a smile on my lips.
“get on all fours” matt’s once smile turns into a smirk looking up at chris who’s also smirking over at matt.
i flip over with my ass flaunting in the air and using my elbows for support and speeding my thighs and legs apart slightly for matt.
matt rummaged through chris’ bedside table for a condom but was quickly stopped by chris.
“no since she wants to act like a whore, you can fuck her like one and fuck her raw” matt smirks over at Chris’ comment and walks towards the edge of the bed and using his cock and slapping my pussy harshly with it letting a loud whine from me.
“someone’s sensitive” matt chuckles taunting me as his slides his tip up and down my soaping wet folds.
he slides just the tip in at first before inching his way in allowing me to adjust to his size as he bottoms out letting a groan escape from his lips and a screech from my lips come out.
“fuck she’s so tight” he groans and mumbles out.
chris smirks walking backwards till his back hits the wall crossing his arms watching matt fuck himself into me.
he starts thrusting in and out pulling out except for the tip and thrusting hard bottoming out each time before thrusting faster and harder.
“Matt” i moan out dragging out the ‘t’ of his name.
his left hand grabs my wrist wrist cuffing them behind my back using his right hand to push my head into the mattress containing his pace in and out of me.
“C-close” i muffle out in the sheets
“no, you’re gonna hold it” matt sternly replied.
“p-please” tears of pleasure form in my eyes as i whimper and scream.
“hold it” he forces my head deeper in the mattress
“c-ca-“ i was cut off by my orgasm gushing out of me squirting all over his cock and thighs leaving a puddle beneath me.
“that was incredibly hot Y/N but, you’re in deep shit now” matt pulls out flipping me back over my back staring down at my glistening red sensitive pussy.
chris shoots matt a smirk and walks over to his dresser ruffles through it pulling out my pink vibrator i use on occasion with chris or when chris is on tour, and throwing it to matt.
matt immediately turns it on the highest setting and placing it on my sensitive clit and pushes himself in me giving me no time to adjust.
matt forces my knees to my chest spreading them open to allow room for the vibrator on me, thrusting heavily in me kissing my cervix with his tip.
i’m a moaning mess beneath him as chris comes around placing his hands on either side of my head.
“is it too much princess?” he taunts smirking.
i nod vigorously as a response as screams and moans escape from me while matt continues to pound himself into my grunting with each thrust.
“this is what happens when you don’t listen Y/N” matt growls down at me as i can feel another orgasm approaching in my core as i tighten around matt again. chris stands up a little and pulls his phone out and opens his camera to get a picture of my fucked out expressions with my mascara pouring down my cheeks and lipstick stains down my chin as he smiles at his phone.
“are you close?” matt removed his hand from my knee still holding the vibrator against my clit, he used his hand to hold my throat softly squeezing my neck on the sides making me see more then just stars now.
“NO” i scream out but my trembling legs gave me away as my cervix spasms around his cock thrusting in me.
“are you close” his grip on my throat tightens as he moves the vibrator around my clit making my eyes roll back and my back arching off the bed.
“NO” i scream out again with more tears falling from my eyes from the overstimulation and pleasure.
“i don’t believe you” he spits smirking at me.
“Fu-fuck” my voice shakes and my throat becomes dry “C-CLOSE” i horsily scream out.
“i know you are baby, come on, cum on my cock” matt’s voice becomes softer as my legs shake and i contract around his cock squirting once again on his torso, cock, and the bed.
his thrusts become sloppier throwing the vibrator on the bed somewhere else as he thrusts in me a couple more times before coating my pink walls white with his cum as he pulls out slowly watching his cum come out of my hole smiling at me.
“are you okay” Chris and matt said in unison smiling at me and back at eachother.
“y-yes” i said out of breath.
chris and matt chuckles.
“i’ll change the sheets” matt says helping me off the bed placing me down on the floor making sure i don’t fall over.
“i’ll go run her a shower real quick” chris comes over towards me picking me up bridal style and carrying me to the shower.
“i-im sorry i never told you ab-“ i start.
“don’t worry about it ma i promise, me and matt are fine, me and you are even better i promise you that” he says kissing my lips softly before putting me in the shower and helping me shower.
“i love you” i say smiling at him as he massages my scalp.
“i love you most” he smiles back at me rinsing my hair out.
we finish showering after putting on some of chris’ clothes on me then making our way back to chris’ room as matt finishes changing the sheets smiling at me.
“i can’t believe you got her to squirt before me” chris chuckles breaking the silence.
“YOUVE NEVER GOTTEN HER TO DO THAT?” matt’s eyes widen as a smile peaks from his lips.
“nope” me and chris said together.
we all laugh softly “wait where’s nick? i really don’t want to explain this to him…” my voice trails off.
“well after chris came to me with a proposal about all this we made him go to a friends house for the night, and told him that i was also going to a friends house so he wouldn’t get suspicious” matt says kind of laughing at himself.
“well then can we all watch a movie together?” i smile at both chris and matt
“of course we can” chris chimed in making his way to the bed and placing me in the middle of the bed as matt is on one side and chris on the other turning on the TV putting on Gossip girl for me.
“i never understood the plot of this fucking show” matt says looking over at chris then back at me who already fell asleep. “and she’s out” matt says smiling
“this is typical Y/N” chris says laughing “i just roll with it” he adds turning back to the TV, and slowly both of them fell asleep with me in between both of them peacefully.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N pt 2: SO I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY WITH THIS I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS AND ENJOYED IT AS MUCH AS I DID WRITING IT!! i love you all and tysm for over 400 followers!! 🩷🩷
XOXO
gabs 💋
#Spotify#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo
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Babymoon
Summary: You and your husband take a quick beach vacation before becoming a family of three.
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female! Reader
Warnings: Illusions to smut, heavy making out, pregnancy, fluff, Jake being adorable. UNDER 18 DNI
Word Count: 2231 (look at me keeping it quick!)
A/N: Written for @thedroneranger 's Pick Your Poison writing challenge. Inspiration for the fic was Sex on the Beach As always, I do not own the Top Gun Maverick characters but all OCs and Reader insert concepts are my own and storylines are mine. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, copied, reposted to other sites, used in AI generators and sold on any platforms.
Masterlist
“Angel, are you sure you’re not overdoing it?” Jake asked as the two of you made your way down to the beach from your hotel room. “We can relax in the room for a bit or sit by the pool if that’s better…”
At 7 months pregnant, you were getting close to the point of no travel and Jake had surprised you with a last minute “babymoon” down to Mexico. He wanted the two of you to have one last opportunity to be spontaneous and fly off for a romantic getaway before you become parents.
“Jake, I love you, Stud…” You said, looking up at your husband, a coy smile on your face, “I promise I’m not overdoing it. I just really want some time on the beach with my sexy husband and baby daddy…maybe some sexy time on the beach with my husband.”
“You’re a menace, Angel.” He chuckled, pausing your walk to the beach to steal a quick kiss. “But anything for my sexy pregnant wife” kissing you again, “Beautiful mother of our daughter.”
“Our daughter is going to have her daddy wrapped around her tiny little finger.” You smirked, as you continued toward the beach.
“Just like her Momma.” He replied, chuckling. “Wouldn’t want it any other way, Angel.”
He led you to a cabana area he’d rented for you for the day. There were beach loungers set up in front, where you could lay in the sun and soak up the warm rays, but there were also loungers in the cabana to allow you to lay down out of the sun and rest without having to leave the beach. It came complete with full food and drink service from the resort. Your amazing and perfect husband had thought of everything.
“Before you get all comfortable out there, darlin’ you need sunscreen.” Jake reminded you.
“Are you worried about me burning…or do you just want a reason to rub your hands all over me in public without the threat of getting arrested?” You teased him.
“A little of both.” He admitted with a smirk, ���I’ll always take any excuse to get my hands on my wife, Angel, you know that… it’s why you’re currently pregnant.”
“Does this mean I’ll be spending a lot of time pregnant over the next five to ten years of our marriage?” You laughed.
“I will happily give you as many babies as you want Angel.” He said, pulling you close, one hand naturally finding its home on your swollen belly, the other behind your head, tilting your head back before capturing your lips in a tender kiss.
“Let’s see how things go with our daughter first.” You suggested, “So far, she’s a handful just like her daddy.”
“The morning sickness finally eased up.” He reasoned, “And after several talks recently, she’s no longer using your bladder as a punching bag.”
“True.” You acknowledged, “Now she’s using my kidneys and rib cage for soccer practice and I swear she takes joy in giving me major heartburn.”
“I’ll have another talk with her.” He smiled, “But you’re not fooling me. I see you when you don’t think anyone is watching… or listening. You’re loving every moment, kidney shots and all.”
“I really am.” You sighed happily, rubbing your hand over your belly where your daughter was safely growing and developing. “I can’t even describe the feeling… knowing a part of you and a part of me…growing inside me. Getting to feel her move and being this close to her… knowing that once she’s born, I’ll never be this close to her again… I’ll have to share her, I’ll no longer be able to protect her from the world… It’s an incredible thing.”
“It’s pretty damn amazing from this side of things too, Angel.” He said gently, his hand joining yours on top of your belly, “Watching our little girl grow inside of you, knowing I helped put her there… seeing you literally grow a human, OUR human… protecting her, nourishing her, loving her… it about brings me to my knees. You’re already the most amazing momma in the world, Angel. Our little princess is so lucky she gets to have you as her momma. As for protecting her once she’s on the outside… I have zero doubts you’ll be fierce and badass at that. I’ve seen you in action protecting those you love. She’ll have us, and a squad full of uncles and aunts to keep her safe. Our little girl will be just fine.”
“You’re gonna make me cry.” You sniffled, tears threatening to spill over. “Not like it’s hard to do… it’s kinda low hanging fruit.”
“You said it, Angel.” He laughed, “But you’re adorable when you’re all emotional.”
“I love you, Stud.” You said, snuggling into your husband.
“I love you too, Angel.” He replied, holding you close.
After a moment, once the emotions had calmed down you pulled back a bit, “Can you put sunscreen on me now?”
“Absolutely,” He agreed, grinning, “Let me grab the bottle. Sit down on the lounger and I’ll get you all sorted.”
The two of you spent time laying in the sun, you reading a steamy romance novel, Jake reading an updated manual for new equipment to his jet.
“You know, My Love,” You teased him, “We’re on vacation, you shouldn’t be working.”
“I enjoy learning about my jet, Angel.” He defended himself, “Besides, wouldn’t you rather I know everything there is to know about it so I can be extra safe?”
“You already know that jet down to the last screw.” You laughed, “And I love that you’re thorough, Babe… it makes it a little easier to send you off on missions and deployments because you tackle those the same as your jet and you learn every detail given to you. I love that about you.”
“I will always do everything in my power and control to come home to you and our little girl.” He promised.
“I know.” You smiled, “And I know that you have amazing squadmates who have your back.”
“They’re alright.” He laughed playfully. Truth was, you knew he loved all of the Daggers and would do anything for them. He’d already been best friends with Javy coming into the Uranium mission that had formed the Daggers, but afterwards he and Bradley had formed an unbreakable bond and a strong friendship. Bradley had even asked Jake to be his best man in his wedding the month before. “Feel like getting in the water?”
“I could cool off.” You replied, “Going to need help getting up though.”
He set his manual down under his towel so it wouldn’t blow away and reached for your book so he could set it next to his before reaching out to lift you up. You swayed slightly into him, the change in position causing you to feel slightly lightheaded.
“Easy does it, Angel.” He said, “Are you ok? Do you need to go inside to rest for a bit?”
“No, I’m ok.” You replied, “I just stood too fast. Let’s go into the water, then we can cuddle in the cabana for a bit.”
“Cuddle?” You asked, smirking.
“Behave.” He chuckled, playfully swatting your butt.
You laughed, taking his hand and the two of you walked to the water. There were some waves but the surf wasn’t overly active. Jake still made sure to keep you close and his hands on you at all times while you were both in the water. You waded out until you were mostly past the break, the water to your chest, but barely above Jake’s belly. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in as close as possible with your very pregnant belly between you.
You leaned up on your tiptoes, your arms around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him. You didn’t hesitate to swipe your tongue over the seam of his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. His own tongue came out to meet yours, the kiss deepening. He let his hands wander down to your butt, rubbing over your bikini clad cheeks.
“What are your thoughts on sex on the beach, Angel?” Jake asked, his head dipping down to kiss over your neck and shoulder.
“Oh my God.. I MISS those amazing little cocktails.” You sighed, “Penny makes the BEST Sex on the Beaches.”
“Angel, I was talking about literal sex on the beach.” He groaned, still trailing kisses over your collarbone, tasting the salt from the ocean water.
“Pretty sure THAT is how I ended up pregnant, Stud.” You teased him.
“The night after the bonfire?” He asked, lifting his head to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips, “Seriously?”
“The timing is perfect.” You shrugged, “Lord knows I DRANK enough of those sneaky little cocktails that night…”
“I remember.” He said, his voice going husky, dropping deeper, “You suggested we do an experiment to see if actual sex on the beach was as good as the drink.”
“Well, it looks like it exceeded expectations.” You giggled, pulling his head down to kiss him.
“So, how about round two?” He asked, his hands wandering back down to your butt.
“I’m way too pregnant to end up with sand in unfortunate places, so how about sex in a cabana?” You compromised, smirking.
“I think it’s time to head back to shore, Angel.” He replied, scooping you up bridal style and carrying you in towards the shore.
“Jake!” You squealed, “Put me down! I am way too heavy!”
“Angel, I can handle carrying my girls just fine.” He promised, “I would never let anything happen to either of you.”
“Such a softy.” You said, letting your fingers run over the wet hair at the nape of his neck.
“Don’t let that get out.” He teased, “I have a reputation to uphold.”
“The gig is up, Babe.” You laughed, “Everyone knows you’re not really an asshole. As soon as they saw you with Ruben’s kids it was all over.”
He carried you out of the water and over the sand back to the cabana before setting you back on your feet. It had shades that could be pulled down for privacy and to block out more sun, which Jake took advantage of as soon as you got inside the cabana. There was a large sun lounger that looked more like a bed, in the middle of the cabana with small tables set up on each side. With the shades pulled on the sides and the light weight material used as a curtain in the front of the cabana let down, it gave you a little privacy from prying eyes of other resort guests. It was at least a private beach, only open to those staying at the resort.
“This might have been easier before we were all wet.” You said, winding your arms around his neck as he came back to stand in front of you. “Now our suits are all clingy”
“Hmmm,” He hummed, leaning down to nibble at your jawline before working back towards your ear, whispering “I prefer my wife to be wet and clingy.”
A shiver ran through your whole body, arousal flooding your system, soaking your already wet bikini bottoms.
“Jake” You moaned, trying to push up against him, as much as your very pregnant belly would allow, “I need you to fuck me.”
“Your wish is my command, Angel.” He replied, guiding you back towards the lounger. He untied your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor of the cabana, making sure to block you from view of the outside world. “Fuck, I love your boobs.”
“Thought you were an ass man, Stud.” You smirked, knowing that your husband had been infatuated with your boobs since you’d become pregnant. They had increased two cup sizes by this point in your pregnancy, and you were told they’d get even bigger once you were breastfeeding your daughter. Jake was intrigued by it.
“When it comes to you, Angel there’s not a part of your body that doesn’t get me going.” He admitted, flashing his dimpled smile. He helped you to lay down on the lounger. He made sure you were propped up on the many decorative pillows and comfortable, leaning in for a quick kiss, before running his hands down over you, pausing to rest his hands on and gently kiss your bump, before continuing down, pulling your bikini bottoms off on his way.
The look of pure lust and adoration on your husband’s face was enough to give you confidence in your own body and not give in to the negative thoughts that tried to permeate your brain when you looked in the mirror. Your OB said it was normal as your body was rapidly changing, to have the negative feelings or insecurities but reminded you to be kind to yourself and if the thoughts became too intrusive to let her know so she could set you up with someone to talk to. Jake had been at that appointment and had made it his mission afterwards to make sure he knew how absolutely beautiful he found you and how incredible it was that you were growing an entire human.
“I think you’re overdressed.” You smiled, allowing your eyes to hungrily track over his sun kissed body. “And I believe I was promised Sex on the Beach.”
A/N: There it is! My second ever Jake fic! What do you think??
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@butterfly-skinnylegend
@dempy
@beyondthesefourwalls
@lostinwonderland314
@roosterforme
@atarmychick007
@caitsymichelle13
@darksparklesficrecs
@nerdgirljen
#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#pick your poison#glen powell#bellaireland writes#top gun fan fiction
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Hey! Can I get Bradley and Long Drink | Long Day, Long Drink for your writing challenge? So excited for this one. It's actually my Favorite drink!
You absolutely can have Bradley and Long Drink for the Pick Your Poison writing challenge! Excited to see what you bless us with!
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Not The Same As It Was
Summary : Harry feels like his life with his family has not been the same as it was. Would he leave his wife and child for the woman who has him craving for more?
Warnings : Angst
Word count: 5.9k
A/n: We're back with another oneshot 🥳This is our late entry to @harry-on-broadway 's fic challenge. Enjoy ❤️
Xoxo,
G and M
Masterlist
----------------------------------------
"So, where are we going?" Harry asked as he climbed onto the passenger seat of the car.
"Calm down, Styles, we ain't gonna kill you", one of the people inside the car laughed, "It's high time you had some actual fun, family life has changed you", another said.
"Hey… that's not true ", he complained as they started driving but that comment had planted a seed of doubt inside his brain.
"Well then, tell me, it's been a month since you came back from tour; how many times have you hung out with us, huh?", Neil, his friend asked. Harry stayed silent. After coming back home, he had spent all his time with his family. And now, he was back in the studio to work on the new album. He had been holed up there all day.
"Yup, that's exactly what I'm talking about, so shut up and have some fun with us tonight, everyone's gonna be there. Just let the old Harry out for this once. You can go back to your boring self tomorrow."
—----------------------------------------------
"Why are you late?Where were you, Harry?"
His head snapped up as he looked at Y/N, his wife. He was sitting on the couch, drinking a glass of water.
"Out", he murmured, placing the glass on the table. "You could've called or texted me, or at least picked up when I called you", she was annoyed.
"Well, I forgot. What's the big deal?" He stood up, placing the glass onto the coffee table with a loud thud and tried to walk towards the bedroom.
"You forgot? We were worried, you know? Beryl went to sleep asking for you. Where were you, Harry? You reek of alcohol." She was getting angrier by the minute.
"What are you on about, Y/N? Can't I just have one night away from all the responsibilities? Can I just enjoy myself for once? Ugh. They were right, family life sure does drag you down", he chuckled meanly.
“What?” she mumbled in disbelief. She loved their little family; her, Harry and their little girl, Beryl. She was so happy to have the most adorable baby on the planet and the best husband. She loved her family with her whole heart and believed he did too, until those poisonous words slipped from his mouth just now. They had talked, even before they had kids, about how important it was for the mental and overall well being of children to have their parents with them. Harry had treated his family as his first priority, until now. Did he really think that? That his family was dragging him down? She could feel bile rising in her throat.
“What? You know I’m right”, he shrugged.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean Harry, you’re clearly drunk. And don’t bring Beryl into this, you knew what you were signing up for when we knew we were pregnant. And you seemed so happy then.” tears pooled in her eyes.
He sighed,
“You know how happy I am to have a family, I just meant that I deserve a break from all this burden, you know.”
“Yup, got your message loud and clear, Styles.”, she said, walking towards their bedroom.
“Shit, Y/N I didn't mean it like that. I just…”
“Save it, Harry. I'll make sure that you won't have to carry our burden.” she said and walked into their bedroom.
He seemed to realize the weight of his words fast enough as the alcohol slowly left his system. He entered the bedroom and saw her coming out of the shower in her pajamas, her eyes were red and puffy. She did not even bother to look at him as he sat on the edge of the bed, fingers fumbling nervously.
“Y/N, baby… just listen to me, I-”
She did not even spare a glance at him and left the room. His eyes started welling up with tears as he heard the sound of Beryl’s room slam shut. He sat against the headboard, as he realized what he had done. Why did he say those words to her, he loved his family dearly, right? Right?
—---------------------------------------------
Y/n could not sleep that night. Were they a burden to him? Was he just tolerating their presence? A mere repayment for having loved her once? She held her daughter tight as she let her tears flow down her face and wet the pillow. Somewhere in the middle of doubting herself and trying to remember if she ever had tied him down, she fell asleep.
—----------------------------------------------
Harry couldn't sleep as well. He was not used to sleeping without her. He knew he had said some hurtful things, but didn't know how to make it better. He woke up early and went for a run to clear his head. He'll just buy her something to make up for it. She was his wife, she wouldn't leave him, would she?
—------------------------------------------------
He had come after the time Y/N and Beryl had left for work and school. He was supposed to take Beryl to school but he purposely avoided coming home early. He knew it would be difficult for him to face Y/N after last night's incidents and he figured that she would take their kid to school. And he was right. Both of them had left.
He placed the necklace he bought for her on the table and wrapped it up, placing a little bow on top. A perfect apology gift. She would surely forgive him after seeing that he had bought her an expensive necklace, right? Well, that's what he thought.
He took the gift to their bedroom and set it down on her dressing table for her to find after she comes home from work and went down to the kitchen, only to see that she had made him breakfast before she left. Guilt tugged at his heart. It would have been so hard for her today, having to get Beryl ready for school, cooking for everyone and then getting to her own workplace, all on her own. He should have been there, helping her with the chores. Y/N was a fashion designer. She had a boutique that sold wedding dresses. Since she had to stay late at work than usual, she had told Harry when he came home from tour that they should hire a nanny for Beryl to stay till she comes home. But Harry was quick to discard that suggestion and said that he'd be there and there was no need to hire anyone.
Harry would apologize to her tonight, he'll pick up Beryl from school, take her to get ice cream. Then he'll come home and make Beryl dinner and get her to sleep by the time Y/N comes home. She had to stay late at work, as her sales were going crazy. Then, when Y/N comes home, he'll set up a nice bubble bath and let her relax. He'll set up a nice romantic dinner and apologize to her. He'll give her the gift he bought her and tell her how much he loves her. If she lets him, he'll show her how much she means to him.
Harry had it all planned. He quickly took a shower, had breakfast and drove over to the studio.
—----------------------------------
Harry had a productive day at work. He was able to get a lot of work done. He could feel the rush of ideas running through his mind.
During the lunch break, he had sent Y/N a text saying that he'll pick up Beryl from school in the evening. She responded in half an hour.
Y/N/N❤️: It's okay, Harry, I'll pick her up. I leave work early today.
—-------------------------------------
"Mate, are you coming or not? ", Jeremy asked impatiently.
"No, man, I've gotta get home early today, you guys go on without me", with that, he was off.
Harry had planned on getting home before Y/N but he didn't know when she would be home. Yes, she had informed him that she'd leave early, but he didn't know the exact time.
He saw her car as he drove into the driveway and realized that his plans had failed. The fresh aroma of food hit his nose as he opened the door and walked in. Y/N was cooking. Beryl was sat on the barstool near the kitchen counter, doing her homework and asking Y/N for help whenever she was met with difficult questions.
Taking off his shoes, Harry carefully walked over to them, a little nervous.
"Daddy, I missed you", Beryl pouted, seeing him. Y/N turned around at the mention of him and their eyes met for a millisecond before she turned away, an expression on her face he couldn't decipher. A wave of disquiet went through him, it was like being doused with ice cold water.
"I missed you too baby", he said, leaning down and placing kisses on her forehead, making her giggle.
"Where were you last night, daddy? I wanted to show you the picture I drew." She frowned.
"Daddy was late, kiddo." He said softly, looking over at Y/N who made no effort to turn around.
"You know what? You could show me the picture now." He said, making her smile.
"Okay daddy, can you put me down?" She asked, holding her arms out. Harry moved closer, picked her up and put her down. She ran off to her room in excitement. Harry walked over to where his wife was chopping tomatoes. He sat on the counter and gently called her name.
“Hey. Look at me.”, he said softly.
She hesitantly looked up.
"I am so sorry, love. I shouldn't have said that. I was drunk and not in my right mind. Will you forgive me?"
"I know, Harry. It's okay, I forgive you", she said in a small voice.
Well, that was easy, he thought. He didn't know why she didn't even put up a fight and stand up for herself because he was clearly in the wrong here.
"Really? I know I was a dick, baby, it won't happen again."
"It's fine, Harry. Don't worry about it" , she gave him a small smile. He knew she was still hurt by the way her smile did not reach her eyes. But he decided not to ask about that. She would be happy after getting that gift. He was about to tell her about it when they were interrupted by the pitter patter of two small feet. Beryl was running over to him with a picture in her hand.
—------------------------------------
After dinner, when Y/N took Beryl to her room to put her to bed, Harry took a quick shower. He did not see her in their room when he got out of the shower.
Was she going to sleep in Beryl's room?
Harry walked over to her room, only to see Beryl sleeping, clutching her reindeer plushie that Harry bought her when he came back from tour last month. It had become her favourite one. Harry smiled to himself and closed the door, walking downstairs, looking for his wife.
There she was, wiping down the kitchen counter and cleaning up. He gently slipped behind her, hugging her from behind and placing a kiss onto her cheek. He sensed her body suddenly stiffening but decided not to comment on it.
Swallowing down his hurt, he gently whispered in her ear,
"Come to bed, baby"
"I'll be there in a few minutes, Harry. You can go to bed if you want to, I'll finish this up and be there", she sounded nervous, he noticed.
"No, I don't want to sleep without you, besides, I have something to give you. I'll wait. "
He helped her clean and led her to their bedroom, handing her the neatly wrapped gift.
"What is it, Harry?" ,she asked .
She had never used a pet name after that encounter. He hated it when she used to call him by his name. She was still hurt, he realised.
"Um, it is a… peace offering. I'm so sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it. So I bought you a necklace as an apology. " He said, suddenly getting nervous.
Sighing, she said,
"You didn't have to, Harry."
"I know, but I wanted to."
"Thank you." She said, without even opening it.
"Can I kiss you? ", he asked apprehensively.
She nodded.
He leaned in, pressing his lips onto hers. It was soft and tender. He held onto her waist and pulled her closer. Both of them did not want to pull away. It was when his hands started wandering over her hips and waist that she pulled back. He looked at her with a small frown.
"I… uh… not today, Harry", she stuttered.
"Um… yeah, sure", he said.
When they went to sleep that night, he hugged her closer to him.
—--------------------------------------
It's been a week since that incident. They were getting back to normal but Harry couldn't help but notice a few changes in his wife's behaviour. She would do all the household chores without asking him for any help, she would cook, and clean, leaving Harry with nothing to do. On one hand, it was good because he could devote his time to the task at hand: the new album. But on the other hand, he found it weird that his usually feisty wife had turned into a housewife. She didn't complain about anything, balancing her housework and kid along with her equally demanding job. She took Beryl to school in the morning and picked her up in the evening.
Their schedules had changed as well. Y/N would wake up early, cook them breakfast and get herself and Beryl ready for work. Harry wouldn't even be awake till they're gone. After waking up, Harry would freshen up and go to the studio. In the evening, Y/N and Beryl would be back, she'd cook them dinner, feed Beryl and get her to bed. Harry would be home late. There were days where they wouldn't even see each other. Y/N had changed her schedule in such a way that she was able to leave in time to get Beryl from school. Harry and Y/N did not really get any alone time. They hadn't even really talked to each other in a week.
The next week seemed so hectic though. Y/N had been busier than ever with her sales going up. She couldn't leave early from work. So, Harry had to take Beryl to school and pick her up.
It was a Friday when they completed and recorded the first song for the new album.
"We'll go celebrate,'' he heard his friends say. He felt like it was only fair for him to go with them as he had been bailing on them for a little while.
Will you pick up Beryl from her dance class today? I don't think I can make it, Harry hastily typed up and sent the message to his wife and without even waiting for a reply, walked towards the car that was waiting for him outside the studio.
—---------------------------------------
They had gone to this new bar near the studio.
It felt liberating for him to be away from work or family for a little while. The drinks had loosened him up. He found the whole having - fun thing refreshing.
It's been a while since he has had some fun, not caring about anything, just living in the present. The alcohol seemed to make him forget about everything. He let himself free, dancing with random strangers and drinking as much as he wanted.
"Hey, Harry, I want you to meet someone," Neil called out over the loud music as Harry was downing another shot of tequila.
With him stood a brunette, tall and gorgeous. She had beautiful hazel eyes which reminded him of Belgian chocolate. She had curves in all the right places. She was wearing a silver bodycon dress which hugged her figure and left little to the imagination.
"Hi, I am Kara", she held her hand out.
"Kara?" He asked, his accent becoming thicker due to him being drunk.
"No, Kara, K-A-R-A" she said.
"That's what I said. I'm English, I have an accent, lord…", he laughed, making her giggle.
He shook her outstretched hand,
"I'm Harry."
"I know", she giggled again.
"So, Harry, this is Kara, my friend from uni, she's a choreographer. She is here for some work related thing, she'll be here for a few months."
"It's nice to meet you ", he said.
"Likewise," she replied with a smile.
They spent the rest of the night talking. Harry found that she had a really nice personality. They talked about many things and he noticed that she had strong opinions about everything, a bold woman, she was.
When it was time for her to leave, she said her goodbyes to everyone in their friend group. Finally, she walked over to Harry,
"It's been great finally meeting you. I've heard so much about you and now I know what they say is true, you're really a gentleman. I'm going to go now, see you around." She leaned in for a hug. He returned the hug, blushing at her praise. She smelled good, like wild berries.
"Bye, see you around", he smiled at her.
He felt that he had taken the right decision to go out, it proved to be a good relaxation technique. He needed to do this often.
It was past midnight when he came home. Beryl was asleep, so was Y/N. He went straight into the kitchen to drink some water and saw a note on the fridge. Dinner is in the fridge, it said, with a hand-drawn red heart on it - Beryl drew it, he realised. He smiled to himself and sauntered over to his room. Y/N was fast asleep. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed under the covers.
For once, Harry Styles felt like he was leading a routine life. A boring one.
—----------------------------------------------
Days passed. Harry had started going out with his friends every now and then. He wasn't even home on weekends. They went to pubs and parties every week. Kara and Harry had become closer than ever. She always tagged along with Neil and gradually, she became an unavoidable member of their friend group. She used to visit his studio whenever she was free.
"Do you want to grab a bite? There's this new bakery I wanted to try", Kara asked one day, when she came to the studio. No one else was there. Harry had to finish up a lyric, and was working on it when Kara called and informed him that she was coming over.
"Yeah, sure, I'd like that"
*****
"Wow, these are delicious", Harry said, as he took another bite from a macaron.
"Well, If you want any advice on anything, you know who to call", Kara laughed, lightly patting his arm.
Both of them had become really touchy with each other. Harry wondered if she was into him. He had felt a spark between them, an invisible pull guiding him towards her. She gave him new ideas and put in her suggestions whenever he was working on something when she went over to the studio. When was the last time Y/N did that? She was always busy with work. When was the last time they had sex? Hell, when was the last time they really talked to each other?
Kara brought out something in him, something fresh, vibrant and lively. He felt like he had become his younger self again. The mood was always playful and silly when she was around.
"Of course", he laughed.
"Can I ask you something, Kara?" , he suddenly asked.
"Why the formalities, H? You know you can ask me anything -"
His phone rang, cutting her off. Huffing, he looked at the screen to check who it was. Y/N. Way to ruin a moment.
"Hello? I'm busy, I'll call you back, okay?", He turned the phone off and turned towards Kara,
"Who was it?"
"Nobody, you were saying?"
"Actually you were about to ask me something. What was it?"
"Yeah, right. So um… I just wanted to erm… know if you were interested in choreographing a dance sequence for my new music video."
"Oh my God… really? I would love that, H", she squealed excitedly.
"So that's settled then, can we go over to the studio and discuss the details with the rest of the team?"
"Sure, let's go"
* * *
What Harry did not know was that his wife was actually outside the cafeteria he was in. She had gone to run a few errands when she saw him there. She called him to let him know that she was there. She was heartbroken after seeing him walk out with a woman, happy and laughing. Might be a friend, don't jump into conclusions, Y/N, she reminded herself.
The next day, deuxmoi had posted that they had sighted Harry outside the studio with a woman. Harry was worried that Y/N would be mad at him, but she didn't say anything. So, Harry was pretty sure that she didn't see it and was so relieved, to say the least.
But she did. She saw every single one of those articles that revealed to her Harry's location when he himself didn't. She heard about Kara doing the choreography from the tabloids, not him. She had seen the way he looked at her and she blamed herself for it.
—-------------------------------------
"And cut…" the director shouted and the room erupted into loud noises.
"It was great, Harry. Kara, you did an amazing job, this is going to break the internet, I can feel it in my kneecaps", he laughed.
The music video for Harry's new single, Medicine, was choreographed by none other than Kara herself. More importantly, she was the one who performed it with him.
The video showed Harry sitting at a bar, just like how they met for the first time, Kara walking towards him and talking to him. Then suddenly, everyone in the bar disappears, leaving a spotlight on Kara and Harry. They stand up and walk towards the middle of the room, performing a seductive, sensual dance sequence. The video ends when they lean in for a kiss and the screen fades to black.
They had excellent chemistry on screen, everyone said.
It wasn't just on screen, Harry wasn't faking it. He enjoyed touching her, the way she would turn putty in his arms. He wanted to know if she felt it too. Harry swore he heard a small whimper when he leaned towards her in the last scene. It caught him off guard. When the director yelled 'cut' , they pulled away from each other. They might not have kissed, but the closeness made him feel something.
People were leaving after the shooting. After thanking everyone, Harry turned towards the door, only to see his wife standing there, talking to a crew member. He didn't expect she'd come to the shooting. Yes, he had told her over dinner that they would be shooting the video the next day but he never thought she would come. To be honest, he felt like they were drifting apart, they didn't have what they had once, they were falling out of love.
His eyes widened when he saw her there. How long has she been there? Did she saw the way he was touching Kara? Did she understand how he felt? He could feel his palms sweating.
Putting on his fakest smile, he walked over to her and slipped a hand around her waist,
"Hey Y/N/N, when did you get here?"
"I got here while you were filming, your mom took Beryl for the night. You did fantastic, H. I'm so proud of you", she smiled.
"Thanks baby. Shall we head out? "
"Um… yeah, sure"
"You go wait in the car, I'll be there, gotta get my phone and wallet from the other room", he said.
—-----------------------------------
It was the day before the premier. Harry had arranged a celebratory dinner for the crew. Y/N was also there.
After the dinner, they were about to leave. Y/N had gone to the washroom and was coming out into the hallway when she heard Kara call out to her husband.
"H, wait up…"
Harry turned around to see Kara running towards him.
"Were you leaving?"
"I… yeah, I was. My wife had gone to the washroom, I was waiting for her", he said. She should know that he was married; she should know what she was getting into, if she was interested in him. But of course, she would know, he was The Harry Styles.
"Um, yeah… I just wanted to let you know something. "
"Yeah? What is it?" , he asked frowning slightly.
"It's just that I'm going back to L.A the day after tomorrow."
"Oh" , he wasn't expecting that. His face fell.
"I'm going to come right out and say it Harry, I really like you and I feel like you like me too. Uh…would you come to my apartment, if I invite you? We could spend one night together before I go back."
Harry couldn't believe it, she liked him!
Without wasting another moment, he stuttered out,
"I … yeah, I'll come. We'll go after the premier".
Y/N couldn't believe what she heard. Her husband was in love with someone else. He was going to cheat on her. Her heart dropped to her stomach. She just wanted the earth to split in two and swallow her whole into the abyss. She walked downstairs, shoulders slumped in defeat. She walked away and waited by the car, expecting his arrival. She heard his footsteps not long after. Wiping off her tears, she tried to act normal.
—-----------------------------------------------
The day of the premier. Harry had woken up before everyone and was getting ready. The stylist had done his hair and makeup. He just had to change into his tux.
"Y/N, are you ready yet, baby?" He called out.
When there was no reply, he walked towards the bedroom and saw her in her PJs, eyes puffy and nose red.
"Baby, are you alright? What happened? Aren't you coming with me to the premier?" He asked.
"Um, no, I'm not. I don't feel good. I think I'm going to be sick. Can you go on without me today?" ,She lied, her voice hoarse.
Harry didn't think twice before agreeing. He was already nervous about how he was going to go to Kara's house with Y/N around. Now that she wasn't coming, it was easier for him to go to her place, but when he was about to leave for the venue, she felt bad about leaving Y/N in such a state. Was it fair to her, what he was doing? It's just a night, and Kara will be off to god- knows- where after that. It was his last chance. Harry walked towards the car with confident strides.
—--------------------------
After Harry slammed the front door shut, Y/N broke down. She couldn't take it anymore. Harry won't be home tonight. He'd be going to her house and he'd realise that all he wanted was Kara and leave them. Y/N decided that she would leave before he'd have to break the news to her - she didn't want to hear that from him, she didn't want what they had to end, but what choice did she have? He doesn't feel the same way anymore. What was the point of staying there? After tonight, he would never be hers. He was going to give Kara something that belonged only to them. After tonight, Y/N is nothing to him. With a heavy heart and tearful eyes, she started packing all her stuff.
By afternoon, she was able to pack everything. She told Beryl that they were going on a little trip. They had to leave before he came home. She didn't know where to go. She took out her phone and called the only person who came to her mind - her best friend Alice. She called an uber in the evening and loaded all their belongings into it. With sorrowful eyes, she looked over at their house one more time ; the house they bought together, the house she thought they'd grow old together in, the house they had built so many memories in. With trembling hands, she opened the door to the car, let Beryl and herself in.
—--------------------------------------
The event went well. Kara was not wasting any time, touching Harry any way she could. He didn't object or in any way try to get away from it. But he gradually started finding it a little uncomfortable.
The premier was over by 7o' clock in the evening. Everyone was going about their seperate ways and as the time passed, Harry became more and more fidgety and skittish. He saw Kara approaching and gave her a nervous smile.
"Um, I think we should go seperately you know, to not give the press anything to talk about." She said.
"Yeah, right. So erm… you will go now and I'll come to your place later?"
"Exactly. Plus…it will give me time to prepare ", she smirked, walking away.
—---------------------------------------
Harry's heart was racing. He stepped out of the car and walked towards the house. The yard was illuminated with lamps on either sides of the pavement. With each step, he was getting more and more anxious.
"This is it", he muttered to himself. The chilly air of the night made him shiver. He involuntarily put his hand inside his pants pocket. There was something there. He took it out, it was a folded piece of paper, sides crumpled. Curious, he gently opened it, inside it was a hand drawn picture. He realized that Beryl must have sneaked in that picture the day before. Three stick figures stood in front of a rose bush. The words "all the best, Daddy" was written in purple colour. He smiled at the memory - when he and Y/N took Beryl to the rose garden while they were visiting France. Beryl was so happy to see the butterflies she saw there. She had even made a new friend there. They explored the city and Beryl was so tired by the time they went back to the hotel room, which gave Harry some much needed intimate time with his wife.
He thought back to the time when Beryl was born. He was out of town for a meeting when Anne called him, saying that his wife had been admitted to the hospital. She was out with Anne and Gemma at the time. He got to the hospital as fast as he could. There she was, smiling like the angel she was, holding a small bundle of blankets in her hand. He rushed over to her and looked inside the bundle to see their little baby girl.
"Our little girl", he said, tearing up.
"Our little girl", she repeated. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for giving me the best gift in the world, I promise to love you both till the day I die."
Harry teared up at the memory. He had everything. Y/N gave him everything. What had gone wrong between them? Was she not enough for him? No, she was always more than enough, it was his own stupidity that led him to where he was now. Then realisation dawned upon him - he was searching for Y/N in Kara. The way she made him feel, the way she soothed him; but the truth was that he could never find it in Kara.
It was never Kara, it was Y/N , it was always her and it was high time he let her know that; he had been taking her for granted. Harry turned around and started walking towards his car with confident strides.
Wiping off his tears, he focused on the road. Kara had been blowing up his phone. He felt disgusted at himself for even considering cheating on his wife. And the worst part was that he had left her all alone, sick, to care for herself when he was so eager to have another woman under him. He felt pathetic.
—-------------------------------------------
He parked his car and ran towards the front door. The house was covered in darkness. Why didn't Y/N turn the lights on? Was she that sick? At that moment, Harry hated himself for leaving her in the bed.
He turned on the lights and called for Y/N. No reply. He walked towards the bedroom, only to find nothing but a pile of sheets. He checked every nook and corner of the house for them, but to no avail. Harry started panicking. What happened to his wife and child? Where were they? He checked his phone again. No calls or messages from her. He called her back, but all the calls went straight to voicemail. Walking back to his bedroom, he found something he didn't see when he first came in... her wedding ring? On top of a wrapped box? He realised that it was the very same gift he gave her to make up for their fight - it hadn't even been opened. On top of it was a letter.
He was confused. He gently opened the letter,
Dear Harry,
By the time you see this, we would be out of your hair. I know I have not been the best wife, and trust me I've been trying.
After you told me that we were a burden to you, I had been trying so hard not to be a burden; I used to stay late in the boutique, do everything for you so that you won't leave me; leave us. I had realised that you had fallen out of love with me, but I didn't want to be separated from you, I thought it wasn't fair to Beryl. I thought I could handle it. But I couldn't. I hated it when I saw you with Kara. I hate that you don't love me anymore and I hate myself for it. I had seen you that day at the cafe and had called you to let you know that I was there. But I didn't know that you were with someone else. I didn't say anything even after you came home, because I didn't want you to leave us. I selfishly held on to the hope that if I stopped bothering you for everything, maybe you'd stay with us. But that hope was shattered when I accidentally overheard you and Kara at the dinner. I couldn't stay here after that. I am taking Beryl with me. I know I don't have a place in your life anymore. It hurts like hell and I know that I would never be able to move on from you because I loved you; I still love you. I didn't want you to tell me that you don't want us here, so I left with Beryl this afternoon. Don't worry, we won't be a burden to you anymore. I don't want your money or fame or anything, I just have a request to you - even if you regret me, please don't regret Beryl, she would be heartbroken.
I would tell Beryl that you have gone back for tour; she'd be sad at first, but she'd get over it eventually.
We won't meet again, Harry. I'll stay out of your life for good. I really hope this was worth it.
Goodbye,
Y/N
Harry stood there with the letter in his hand, shocked. And when reality sunk in, he collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down his face.
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An Aviation Special
Summary: You had always wanted to experience Mardi Gras in New Orleans, but when it starts to go sideways thanks to your travel companions, you fear the whole trip, maybe even the whole city, has been ruined for you. But then a handsome stranger swoops in when some drunk idiot gets too handsy, and your night takes an unexpected turn for the better.
Pairing: Javy Machado x Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Fluff galore, language, drunk idiots and handsy men, mentions of flashing.
Notes: Written for @thedroneranger's pick your poison challenge, with a Mardi Gras board of my dreams.
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You were doing your best not to panic, choosing instead to focus on the annoyance coursing through your body instead. Your sister and her friends, her stupid, reckless friends, had done what they always did and got a little too wild, and while you had slipped away to the bathroom, they thought it would be a great idea to switch bars. Instead of waiting for you, they had shot a text to the Bachelorette Bead Bash group chat that you had created, telling you where to meet them. Only now you were there, and they were nowhere to be found. And to top it all off, your phone was dead.
“Stupid, stupid bridesmaids,” you muttered under your breath, pushing through the rowdy crowd of people none-too-gently to get to the bar. You tried not to cringe when you felt how sticky it was, immediately withdrawing your hands. “Excuse me,” you said, speaking a little louder when at first you didn’t get the bartender’s attention. He turned to you with a bored, exasperated look on his face, clearly annoyed with all the drunk tourists taking up space. “Do you happen to have a phone charger? I just need it for long enough to make one phone call, I promise.”
“No, sorry.”
You groaned as he walked away without another word, resisting the urge to stomp your foot in frustration. This was just your luck.
“I don’t have a charger, but flash your tits for me, gorgeous, and I’ll give you some of these beads.”
You turned your head to the drunk idiot standing far too close to you, a scowl on your deep purple painted lips as he shook the aforementioned colorful beads in your face. He reeked of sweat and cheap liquor and his eyes were glazed over as he leered at you.
“How about you take those beads and strangle yourself with them instead?” you snarked back, and to your disgust, the guy and his buddies only laughed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him and taking a step to start forcing yourself through the throngs of bodies that were almost certainly violating some sort of fire code. You didn’t get far before a hand was grabbing your arm, jolting you back.
“Come on, baby, you know you want to.”
The panic was trying its best to creep up again, but the annoyance was also morphing into anger as you narrowed your eyes. You were contemplating the risk of slapping him across the face when a voice spoke up from beside you.
“I think she said no, man. But those girls over there look pretty eager.”
The guy almost stumbled in his intoxication when he turned to see where the newcomer was indicating, shouting in excitement at the view of three women standing on a table pulling their shirts up as plastic flung in their direction. Him and his friends moved in that direction without another glance at you. The bouncer of the bar was also heading their way, and you breathed a sigh of relief that not only were the guys leaving you alone, but hopefully those women would make it out of here safely, too.
“Pawning my problem off on other women goes against every feminist bone in my body,” you said, turning for the first time to put a face to the voice who had come to your rescue. You’re met with a startling pair of dark eyes and a jawline that should be illegal. His smile was warm and amused, and despite all the irritation you were feeling, you couldn’t help but take a moment and think damn.
“It seemed like they would welcome the attention a lot more than you were,” he justified, and his voice was as smooth this time as it was the first time he spoke. You gave a noncommittal hum in response, and he raised a thick eyebrow as his smile grew. “You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t say thank you.”
“Were you planning to?” he challenged, and you felt a fluttering in your stomach at his playful tone. You contemplated for a moment, eyes narrowed and colorful lips pursed. You could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as he stared back at you, waiting.
“Thank you,” you finally said, only a little bit begrudgingly, and the stranger nodded in satisfaction.
“You’re welcome,” he repeated. “Also, there’s a place a few bars down that has a charging station. I overheard you asking the bartender.”
"Oh my god," you groaned in relief, "are you serious?"
He laughed, the sound washing over you. He motioned for you to follow him through the crowd toward the exit. You hesitated for a moment, remembering that you were in a city you had never been in before during their busiest tourist week of the year, and you didn't know this man. But then a cheer came from the corner, and when you glanced over, one of the guys from earlier had climbed on the table and taken off his shirt, plastic beads flying everywhere. You winced and turned back, nodding once. As you made your way out of the bar and onto the bustling street, you couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he navigated through the chaos.
"I'm Javy, by the way," he offered once you made it onto the sidewalk.
"Nice to meet you," you replied, offering up your name in return. He stuck close to you as he guided you down the overly crowded streets. You tried your best to ignore the lingering unease that clung to the back of your mind, but you found that his confident demeanor made it easy. "Are you a local?" you asked.
He flashed you a charming smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I used to be," he explained. "I grew up here, but I live in California currently. But New Orleans will always be home in a lot of ways. I take it you're not?"
"No," you snorted, narrowly avoiding running into someone running in the opposite direction. Your arm brushed against Javy's as you pushed slightly closer to him, and you tried to ignore the heat that the slight touch caused. "I'm here for my sister's bachelorette party. The city had always been on our bucket list to travel to together, but then her friends decided they wanted to overtake the whole trip and make it Mardi Gras of all times."
"I take it you don't like these friends?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice.
You gave him the biggest smile you had since you met him a few minutes ago, and he was laughing before you even spoke the words. "Understatement of the century."
You go on to tell him about how they had pretty much blown the itinerary you had carefully crafted as maid of honor, including how they left to go to the next bar without you, and then not been there when you showed up. You weren't sure why you were telling a man you didn't know all of this, but it felt good to say it out loud nonetheless.
"They sound like they suck," he said plainly once you were done explaining. You let out a very unladylike snort as you agreed.
"What about you?" you asked, "what brings you back?"
"Ironically enough, I'm here for my best friend's bachelor party. There may have been an incident with a few of the groomsmen getting drinks thrown on them, and I ran into one of my cousins at the bar we were just at, so I told them I'd meet up with them once they came back out from going back to the hotel to change." He flashed you another smile, his eyes shining with a genuine warmth. "I suppose everything happens for a reason, though."
You chuckled, and he winked as you arrived at what you guessed was your destination. Javy held the door open for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Inside, the bar was as lively as the others you had been to, but the atmosphere was strangely inviting. You followed as he led you to the back corner where a row of charging stations lined the wall. You tried not to groan when you saw all of them were in use.
“Clearly I’m not the only one in New Orleans who went out without a fully charged phone tonight,” you muttered under your breath. A gentle hand on your arm had you turning your gaze to the man who had led you here, his dark, kind eyes meeting yours.
“Let me buy you a drink while you wait for one to open up.”
You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. There was something about Javy that intrigued you, a magnetic pull that you hadn't felt in a very long time that made you want to spend more time in his company. You desperately needed to charge your phone and get in touch with your sister and her friends, so you'd be waiting here no matter what anyway...there was no harm in a drink, you rationalized.
"Sure," you finally said, unable to resist his charming smile. "A drink sounds great."
You followed him to the bar, squeezing through the crowd until you found a spot where you could lean against the counter.
As you waited for someone behind the bar to notice you, Javy leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "What would you like?" he asked, his voice tinged with what you thought was anticipation.
You turned to face him, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot through your veins as your eyes met. His gaze was intense, yet inviting, pulling you into a world of possibilities. "Surprise me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the clamor of the bar.
With a mischievous grin, Javy flagged down the bartender. You couldn't hear what it was that he ordered, but before long, two stemmed cocktail glasses filled with a vibrant purple liquid garnished with a lemon peel and a deep red cherry were set down in front of you. "Mardi Gras special?" you asked with an eyebrow raise. He laughed as he grabbed both drinks and then nodded his head toward one of the barstools at the very end of the charging station that had just opened up. You hurried over to it before someone else could, sliding onto the barstool almost clumsily. Javy made himself comfortable leaning against the counter beside your stool, facing you. He handed you one of the drinks after you had plugged your dead phone in. Making the conscious decision to enjoy your time with him as much as you could, you placed the screen face down.
"It's called an Aviation, actually."
He looked almost amused as he brought the drink to his lips. You studied him closely as you did the same, letting the flavors of the gin and lemon dance on your tastebuds.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"It's delicious."
"I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He watched you intently, and you didn't miss the way his eyes flickered to your lips when you licked away a stray drop of the liquid when you took another sip. The air crackled with tension, and you had to fight the urge to lean closer to him. He cleared his throat, looking away momentarily. You tampered down the shiver that threatened to run through you.
"So why'd you leave New Orleans?" you asked, breaking the silence.
"Work," he explained."I'm in the Navy, so I've lived all over the place."
"The Navy, huh?"
He hummed in confirmation.That glint in his eyes that made you feel like you were missing something was back, and your eyes narrowed in curiosity. "And what do you do in the Navy?"
A smirk played on his lips. He tried to cover it by taking another sip of his drink, but you saw right through it. He set the glass down, folding his hands together as he stared at you. "I'm an aviator."
You paused for a beat, looking down at the purple drink before looking back at him, the joke you had been missing clicking into place in your head.
"Okay," you said slowly, and Javy was already chuckling from his spot beside you. "I see what you did here."
His laughter was loud, but not obnoxiously so, instead surrounding you like a comforting warmth. You couldn't help but join in with him, your giggles blending seamlessly with his.
The atmosphere around you seemed to fade into the background as the two of you talked, the conversation flowing easily between you. The more you learned about Javy, the more intrigued you became. His passion for flying was evident in every word he spoke, and it was contagious. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, mesmerized by his experiences and adventures. And when you spoke, he listened with genuine interest, occasionally interjecting with laughter or witty remarks. The more you talked, the more drawn you felt to him. There was something about his easy charm and attentive nature that made you feel seen and understood.
Eventually, your phone buzzed with a notification, indicating that it had finally regained some charge. Reluctantly, you flipped it over and glanced at the screen. Reading through the few messages that you missed in the chat, you snorted in disbelief. "My sister and three of her bridesmaids started throwing up at the last bar they went to."
"Yikes," Javy winced. "Are they okay?"
Your heart fluttered at the concern he showed for people he didn't even know. Damn damn damn.
"They're fine," you assured him with a small smile. "The other two have already dragged them back to the hotel to sleep it off. Guess the night is over."
You felt sad as you said the words. The night had started a shit show, but talking to Javy had turned it around. You weren't really ready for it to come to an end just yet.
As you reached to unplug your phone, Javy's hand gently clasped yours, halting your movement. "You don't need to rush off just yet," he said softly, his warm gaze holding yours. "Why don't you come hang out with me and my friends instead?"
You looked at him in surprise, shocked by the offer.
"Don't you think your best friend will be mad that I'm crashing his bachelor party?"
"Not even a little bit," he assured you. "They're all good guys, I promise."
You chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated.
You knew that you should decline. Going off with a group of strangers in a city you barely knew didn't exactly scream "intelligent decision." Still, you found that you wanted to take him up on it.
Reading the apprehension on your face, Javy continued on, more eager now as he tried to convince you. "Look, as a Louisiana boy, I can't bring myself to allow you to leave New Orleans without actually enjoying yourself. You deserve to have a good time." His hand settled on yours again and squeezed gently. When he spoke, he was shyer than he had been all night. "And if I'm being honest with myself...the last thirty minutes with you have been the highlight of my trip home, and that's saying something. I'm not really ready for it to end yet."
His words sent a shiver down your spine. You gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of deceit or ulterior motive. But all you found was sincerity and an excitement that you felt flicker in you, too. Against your better judgment, you nodded. You were tired of playing by the rules, tired of always being the responsible one. Maybe tonight could be different.
"Alright," you conceded, unable to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Lead the way."
Javy's grin widened, and he intertwined his fingers with yours before guiding you out of the crowded bar. The night air hit you with a welcome change as you followed him through the lively streets.
His friends waited at a bar just a few blocks away. As you approached, their laughter and boisterous conversation spilled onto the sidewalk. When they saw Javy walking hand in hand with you, their eyes widened with surprise. Almost instantly, the cat calls started.
Javy rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh lightly as you leant against him. "Yeah, yeah. Knock it off."
He introduced you to each of his friends amongst their teasing. They were a rowdy group, and it wasn't hard to see how much they cared for each other. The camaraderie instantly calmed you.
It was surprisingly easy, letting yourself have fun with this group of strangers. They accepted your presence like it was nothing, involving you in every conversation and debate they had, and within a few hours, you felt like you had known them for a lot longer than you really had. The night continued on, a whirlwind of pretty purple drinks and colorful masks and exuberant laughter. Vibrant jazz music reverberated through the air, the streets full of purple, gold and green chaos. You could feel the pulsating energy of the city surging through you, and this is exactly why you had always wanted to come here.
At some point, Javy grabbed your hand, beckoning you to dance with him. You giggled happily as he twirled you. The world around you melted away, leaving only the pulsating music and the warmth of his touch. You were tipsy from all the alcohol and the thrill of an unexpected night with a man who made you feel something no one else ever has. You wished it wouldn’t have to end.
“Me either,” he said, making you realize you had said that out loud. But instead of feeling embarrassed at your slip, you giggled and leant into him further.
“I mean it,” you insisted. Javy’s smile had become familiar to you tonight, and the butterflies erupted in your stomach just as they had the last few hours when he flashed it in your direction. “You know, you’d make the perfect wedding date, if only you didn’t live so far away.”
He hummed in what you thought was agreement, but didn’t say anything. The look he gave you was contemplative, like there was something he was trying to figure out. “What?” you asked.
“When’s the wedding?”
You threw your head back in laughter, realizing what he was getting at. “Still a few months away. You’ll have completely forgotten about me by then, I’m sure.”
Javy's eyes sparkled as he pulled you even closer, his hand still holding yours tightly. "Oh, I highly doubt that," he replied, and the way his voice dropped sent shivers down your spine. "Seriously. When's the wedding?"
"The second weekend in May."
"If I'm not deployed, I'll be there."
You shook your head in disbelief as more giggles escaped, completely enraptured by this man. "Sure, Javy."
His smile softened and he raised a hand to cup your face, and you couldn't help but instinctively lean into his touch as his thumb brushed your skin. "I mean it. I want to be there. With you."
You searched his eyes for a long moment, searching for anything other than the sincerity and tenderness staring back at you. You felt a rush of emotions when you found none. In that moment, looking at you the way that he was, he felt like so much more than just a stranger you met on a wild night out in New Orleans.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you raised on your toes and pressed your lips against his.
The kiss was soft at first, gentle and sweet, but it quickly deepened into something more passionate. For a moment, you hesitated, wondering if this was the right thing to do, but then you realized that you didn't care. You found yourself lost in him, and everything else faded away. All of the tension that had been building between the two of you that night was pushed into this one moment. You nearly stumbled at the intensity, but Javy just pulled you closer and kissed you harder. He tasted like gin and lemons and cherry from the purple drink you both had been drinking all night, and you realized it tasted even better from him.
Finally, the two of you broke apart, both panting heavily. You gazed at each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he brushed some of your hair out of your face.
You swallowed thickly before speaking, your voice trembling just slightly. "I want you there, too," you said, and you knew it was crazy, but you also knew you meant it.
A slow grin spread across his face, and before you could say anything else, Javy's lips were back on yours.
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Main Masterlist
Notes: I'm kind of feeling a part two? Maybe? I'm actually so in love with this man, it's unreal.
Thanks to @thedroneranger for the incredible banner, and to @roosterforme @mak-32 for their help, and to @sylviebell for catching an embarrassing amount of typos after I thought I was already done editing
#alli writes#javy coyote machado x reader#javy machado#javy machado imagine#javy machado x reader#javy coyote machado#javy machado fic#javy machado x you#javy coyote machado x you#javy coyote machado x oc#coyote x you#coyote x reader#javy machado appreciation
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