#I know using my own gif is a little corny but still
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hi hey just wanna let u know that i (this anon in particular) would always want to listen to your thoughts about The Thing youre excited about regardless of the reason or my knowledge or the time-space continuum!
YOU! Ohhh anon you poor soul. I'm terribly sorry. I have been holding onto this ask for a while, at least until the next time I felt as Energized about Them again. Shaking. Twitching. I don't quite know how to explain it. I can only take potshots at attempting to rationalize my thoughts behind them. With that said, here's more rambling about Engiemedic, the only thing I seem to care about
I've rambled about Engiemedic a fair amount of times before, either jokingly with goofy remarks about them or writing a giantass fic about them. They scratch a certain part of my brain that is difficult to really describe and pin-down.
Like I've never really "shipped" anybody before them. Did I like ships? Yeah sure of course. I've always liked considering relationships and thinking about how they intersect and are written. It's probably definitely the aroace bit of me talking, but I only really get involved in ships when there's really some substance to them.
It makes Engiemedic this weird fucked up anomaly to me then because what the hell do you mean that this decently popular non-canon pairing that's had all of like 30 seconds of shared screentime and maybe seven panels where they're in the same room at max has become so engrossing and fascinating to me. It's not like the usual ships where this happens to people; the ones with lengthy tragic tales tied to them or spend so much time with one another. It's just two silly guys
It just...perplexes me. It's odd. I can't describe what about it really draws me in, despite the fact I've written so much. I can at least try and figure out what it is though
I think the thing that made me first interested was simply the dynamic and jokes to be made. They are exceptionally silly, wherein I can fully believe them sticking together and doing weird experiments for hours upon hours. It's hard not to imagine them getting excited over whatever project they've been throwing themselves at. It's fun
Because ultimately both Engie and Medic are both unethical murderous science people, Medic obviously while Engie is a tiny bit more subtle. Their dynamic is interesting in that regard 'cause, when paired together, now you've got two weirdo freaky smart people tossing back ideas and before you know it now they're trying to create some sort of nuclear-powered contraption that explodes bones
It calls out to me in a way that other ships don't, especially Heavymedic. No shade to Heavymedic shippers out there, I think it's still a fun ship, but I don't find it as compelling with their dynamic. Heavy is a reasonable and level-headed guy. Yeah he kills people and laughs about their misery and whatever, but he's more stable than most other mercs. If Medic was to say "I want to self-isolate for days on end while I work to create the bubonic plague 2.0" Heavy would have concerns and try to stop him from doing it because What the Hell
Engie, however, would endorse it. I think Engie and Medic are very similar in that regard. They're dedicated to their crafts and understand the nuance and skill that it takes to partake in it. Engie obviously still has qualms and is there in case Medic clearly ain't right, but he's more likely to get caught up in whatever experiment that Medic is trying to do
Which brings me to my next point: the way they influence each other. When together, I think they are at their best and worst (morally at least). It's like that trope with two smart people coming together and being dumbasses, but instead it's with them making weird creations and doing odd experiments that ultimately do not benefit anyone. They simply do it for fun
On a more personal level, I think Medic draws out the parts of Engie where he tries to hide and represses. Headcanons, obviously, but I think Medic taps into Engie's more sinister nature as a maniac with a god complex and a hankering to kill and really draws it out. It's infectious and hard not to try and match his energy. Medic makes Engie want to get more creative with his projects and drives him to be more experimental and, of course, murderous
Likewise and, again, mainly headcanons, I think Engie helps Medic tap into a slightly more "human" side. I think Medic generally struggles with caring about other people, discarding them in favour of working on his own projects and being by himself. Engie is one of the first people he's encountered that not only likes him and enjoys his company, but is just as wacky and weird as he is. Engie is more charismatic and outgoing and, while still not too terribly great with the whole emotions thing, helps Medic out in case he's Not Doing Good
Their personalities intertwine so much they make me ever so slightly ill. They don't seem alike really at first glance. Medic is over the top, eccentric, and generally a giggly mad scientist. Clear to see the archetype he's based on. Yet, when you look past Engie's charming little quips about Texas, he's very much alike Medic. He has a god complex, is highly intelligent, morally bankrupt, etc and etc. He's just as eccentric and wacky as the doc is, but is only slightly better at keeping it under wraps
I just think they're really entertaining when put together honestly. Sure yeah I love me my angsty and fluffy stuff with them, but I think they're simply great when just working on some project and talking to each other. Their personalities bounce off of one another exceptionally well and it's hard for them not to get so caught up in their work that Oh No it's been Four Days and they haven't left the workshop/laboratory
Ultimately, yeah. I think they care about each other a lot that way. Their work is...intimate in a way. They're lab partners. They spend all of this time together, defying God's will with whatever unholy machination they've crafted, they got to have some sort of bond
What makes me happy is that I think a lot of people really like the concept of Engiemedic in any form. Platonic, romantic, whatever. I personally go for QPR stuff (something about their love being undefinable by normal standards blah blah), but I think it's a neat observation that makes me like it more. It's hard to deny that they're really fun together
Speaking of their connections, let's talk about their roles in the actual game. Y'all heard of the Heavymedic duo, with Heavy running around with a Medic pocketing him the entire time, but have you ever considered the Engiemedic duo?? Engie and Medic are the BACKBONES of this game honestly. All it takes is one Engineer or Medic on a team to shift the balance entirely. Everyone wants a good Engie and Medic, but it's a hard role to fill and nobody really wants it. However, they're needed. They're necessary. They're the main support roles of the game than, say, Sniper or Spy ever are. They're the underappreciated, yet incredibly vital parts of the team.
Honestly the Engiemedic duo is far more prevalent and makes far more sense than the Heavymedic duo, because tbh you can say that Medic is closely connected to any class. Soldiermedic duo where Solly just spams rockets and wipes out the entire team. Demomedic duo where Demo just spams pipes and annihilates every building. What makes the Heavymedic duo any special? God I'm sorry for being a little Heavymedic hater, I promise I think the ship is alright, but idk. I like Engiemedic a lot
Anywho, I think Engiemedic is extremely fun to write about as well as just generally experience. There's so much you can apply to them. It's hard to think of anything they can't do, really. They're great with humor, what with shoving them into a room with some cadaver and letting them have at it. They're great with angst because, with headcanons, they can be really heavily fucked up people trying to make things work. They're great with fluff because they're so silly and it's easy to think of them doing cute things with one another. The list goes on!
They're...special to me. They're certainly something. I could go into all sorts of other things too (more esoteric and metaphoric I'm talking), but eh who cares. I don't like delving too much into headcanons and my own weird readings with these more generalized rambles. I just think they're silly :]
#sp-rambles#ask#anon#...okay fine I'll tag it too#science party#I know using my own gif is a little corny but still#Still holds true methinks#Also again sorry for the little ramble about other ships I just really like this one instead#I could probably ramble more about my thoughts on *why* I prefer this one but I'm afraid of being burned alive by the fandom
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No One Knows the Trouble, Honey, That We've Been Through 1/3
Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader
Chapter Rating: Mature
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You're an X-Man... well, you used to be. You left years ago, and in the aftermath of an attack on X-Mansion, Charles has asked you back to help repair the damage to the estate. An easy job for an earthmover like yourself. Still, after years away from your old home, you feel like a stranger again. So much has changed and you're not sure where you fit in anymore. The newest X-Men member isn't helping your mood either. You're not sure where they found Logan, and you're still trying to figure out what to think of him. The mans barely said anything to you. He's not the typical stray Charles would take in, but then again, neither were you when he brought you here.
AN: Like everyone else, my Wolverine obsession has also re-awoken. So I made a quick little 3 part fic to cope with it. Let's see if I can rest now This leans into the movie-verse of the x-men (He's tall because Hugh Jackman is tall lol) but I think I wrote it in such a way that you can imagine it in whatever version of the x-men you like best. Warnings: Emotional baggage, fluff, angst, self-doubt, anger issues?, alcohol, getting drunk, flirting, Logan is drunk babysitter, this is a little corny but I don't care, eventual smut
Series Masterlist
Part 2. Part 3
AO3 if you prefer to read there
_______
Stepping on the soil of the Xavier estate felt odd in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like standing on hallowed ground you’re unworthy of being on. Funny, years ago you only knew it as home. Now you’re just a stranger to the rocks beneath your feet. Still, Charles asked you back. He asked for your help.
The grounds around X-Mansion were unrecognizable.
They were decimated in this latest attack. Storm assured you all the children got out safely, thank god. The estate took all the damage. The house had been rebuilt but the surrounding lands were… rough. Ripped-up roots and protruding rocks where gardens and trees once stood. The walls of the mansion were now bare of its usual sprawling ivy, freshly reconstructed for probably the dozenth time in its life— another failed attack from another ignorant enemy.
You look at the destroyed earth around you, the real reason you were here. This is why he called you.
Soil, dirt, and rocks were where your powers lie. You could move the earth itself, sense the minerals beneath your feet, see the world around you through the touch of stone. Dozer your friends called you when you first came here— short for Bulldozer . You always hated it but it’s unfortunately the name that stuck. Now it’s just… part of you.
You weren’t the best student. You were angry when you came here at the ripe age of 13 after a rather unconventional childhood. Things were done to you you could never forgive. In a lot of ways, you were still angry. Used by the people you should have trusted most. Seen as less than human. A tool. A mutant.
And that’s when Charles found you.
The Professor took you in when he had no obligation to— and you fought every step of the way. You realize now it was your fear acting out rather than anger. Still, you were an X-Man… for a while. You thought you found your place. It was a good few years but you wanted more. You wanted to prove the world wrong. Be more than just a mutant. People always say a life well lived is always the best revenge. That’s what you wanted, a good life you forged for yourself despite the world's hatred towards you— and you left the X-Men behind to do it.
Once an x-man, always an x-man, Charles told you the day you left. Maybe some part of that was true, but you didn’t feel like an X-man anymore. It was your own fault, really.
Months and years rolled on and picking up the phone just got harder and harder. Dropping by to say hello started feeling intrusive. And eventually, it just became easier to do nothing at all.
You stopped trying, but so did they.
No, that’s not true. Jean tried. Storm tried. A letter or two every year. Missed calls that never got returned. You don’t know why you did it… or didn’t do it. Maybe you thought it would hurt less if you just tried to close the book on that chapter of your life. Be a new person. Something without the X-Men. They didn’t need you anyway.
Really, it was probably that same fear from your teen years rearing its ugly head. Still that afraid, angry little girl.
But Charles called, and you answered, and now you’re here. You’re here to help them get back up.
You became a landscaper when you went off to make a name for yourself. Dirt was all you understood, as sad as that sounds. Still, it was work that made you happy. Funny how you left because you didn’t want your mutation to define you.
Charles treated it professionally like any other client would. The man didn’t expect charity and agreed to your usual fee plus an extra 50% to redo the escape tunnels under the mansion.
I can’t pick my home up and move it, but I do my best to keep people guessing about its secrets, was Charles's reasoning.
It was a big job. It would take you 2 weeks at least. Hopefully finishing up just in time for the returning students. You’d already been here 3 days and the emotional exhaustion was getting to you more than anything.
There was no ‘bad blood’ here. You were welcomed back with a chorus of cheers and endless hugs. It was… nice. Really nice. You did miss it here, you missed your old friends. Still, you couldn’t shake this feeling of disassociation stirring in your stomach. Yes, this was your home— your friends— but you’d alienated yourself. They’ve been nothing but kind to you and you still feel like a stranger because you left. You left and stopped trying and you’re refusing to try even now.
Why was this all so scary?
You're reshaping the east garden beds when you feel eyes on you for the dozenth time today. You turn to see him standing there on the 4th-floor balcony, overlooking the decimated gardens.
Logan .
You only met him a few days ago. The newest member of the X-Men. The Wolverine. You’d heard rumors about him before. Tales of the rage, someone more animal than man. You’re amazed Charles took in someone like him, but then again he took you in too.
You’d said less than 3 words to each other since you returned. When Scott introduced you he only gave a curt nod and lurked back into whatever corner he was occupying.
You noticed he liked to stay on the sidelines. Silently occupy space without participating. He was always there when you turned around— like a shadow. He liked watching you work, you think. You could sense him lingering outside of the tunnel entrance you started in the basement the other day. This is the 4th time you’ve caught him lingering today.
You give him a casual flip of the bird. He retreats back inside as soon as your eyes connect with his.
Fucking creep.
“Dozer!” Storm’s voice pulls you from your unplanned staring contest.
She and Jean step down into the rocky pit that was slowly starting to resemble a 3 tiered garden. You’d been working on the tunnels below the house since you got here, this was your first day outside. Even an Earthmover needed sunlight every once in a while. You couldn’t punch out your slew of confusing feelings in a dark hole in the ground forever.
Of course they’d ambush you as soon as you stepped outside.
“We have a surprise for you,” Jean announces proudly.
“What— Why?” is all you manage to say.
Idiot.
“What do you mean why?” Storm doesn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and march you out of your pit. “Come on, it’s up at the garage.”
You let them drag you there, reminding yourself that these are your friends. The ones that kept trying to let you in and you’ve been an elusive bitch to since you got here.
Try. Just try a little. They want you here. They do.
You’re guided, presumably to the garage, by Storm while Jean diligently holds her hands in front of your eyes.
“Please tell me it’s a new car,” You joke trying to lighten the mood. “My truck’s getting old.”
“Pfft, we don’t have that much money,” Jean nudges you slightly before you all come to a halt. She removes her hands.
It’s not a car. It’s flowers.
They’re absolutely beautiful. Hundreds of them in nursery trays laid out in front of the garage doors. Young blossoms but still vibrant with rainbows of color.
Despite your connection with the Earth you never had power over plants, but felt a kinship with them in a way. Both beings that thrived in the dirt was your best guess as to why. You could sense them, feel them in your own way. Your dorm was a practical jungle when you lived here. Hell, your apartment today still was.
A closer glance at the small garden reveals something more.
“It’s all your favorites,” Storm confirms, reaching down between the rows, “The ones we could remember at least. You had so many.”
She pulls out a bouquet, a small collection of the surrounding flowers. They must have made it themselves. Ororo hands it to you, her smile warm but her eyes sad in a way.
“Guys, I…” you choke out, pushing back the stinging tears.
“Your thoughts are very loud,” Jean strokes your shoulder, “The gardens are yours. A reflection of you… for the rest of us. This is your home, you get to leave your mark on it.”
“We’re happy you’re back,” Storm joins Jean in front of you, “We’re happy you're home.”
Wordlessly, you collapse into the two of them. You’d make an ass out of yourself if you tried to talk right now anyway.
Of course Jean knew how you were feeling. Of course Storm probably had the idea for this corny grand gesture. Of course, they missed you. They’re your oldest friends. Your sisters.
You’re home. This is okay. It’s all going to be okay.
__________
The sun has nearly set when you hear the garage door open from a distance, a fight echoing from inside.
“Logan, be reasonable!” You recognize Scott’s aggravated voice.
“You’re a goddamn coward,” the wolverine growls back. Jean informed you this is a regular occurrence between the two of them. You’re not surprised. Logan seemed difficult, to say the least.
You’re halfway up to the garage before you realize what you’re doing. What are you doing? Are you really going to try to break up a flight or just get a better spot for eavesdropping? There’s the roar of a motorcycle engine before you have time to decide.
“ Logan! ” Scott shouts one last time before Logan peels out of the garage— right through the rows of your flowers that rested there.
“HEY!” you shout after him. It’s no use, of course. He doesn’t bother to stop, already past the front gate by the time you reach the driveway.
Scotts stands there alone at the edge of the garage, his hand on his visor… contemplating.
“You’d have one witness if you're thinking about murder,” you make your presence known as you crouch down amongst the now mangled corpses of your garden.
Asshole.
“Shit,” Scott's posture drops, almost embarrassed. His demeanor had changed so much from that young man you knew. The leader of the X-Men, he took himself so seriously now. It was cute in a way only Scott Summers could pull off.
“What an asshole,” you rescue a box of untouched daisies. At least some of it was salvageable.
“You have no idea,” Scott joins you, finding what flowers could be saved, “I’m sorry. He’s… difficult.”
“What were you fighting about?” you dare to ask, more to distract yourself than anything.
Scott hesitates before he answers.
“We were attacked by an offshoot of the Trask Institute. Extremists we didn’t even know existed. They came out of nowhere, and they’re still out there,” You see him scowl, silently scolding himself for not knowing more as a leader. He’d do the same thing in training.
The person who always put the most pressure on Scott was never The Professor. It was just Scott.
“Anyway,” he continues, “We don’t have an exact location, but Logan wants to hunt them down. Take ‘em out at the source, ya know?”
“And you don’t wanna do that?”
“We’ve taken enough hits right now.” He adds a bushel of ivy to your pile, “Best to wait until we have our feet back under us… or if they provoke us again.”
“Wouldn’t be good to be caught with your pants down again, though.” It’s not your place to question him anymore, but you do it anyway.
“We’re monitoring them. They’re not a treat right now,” he lets out a deep sigh, shoulders dropping, “But that’s not good enough for Logan. He doesn’t plan. Just wants to go in guns blazing.”
“Ah, wild-west style.”
“Like I said… he’s difficult .”
“That seems like a nice way of saying an absolute dick .” you attempt to lighten the mood and simultaneously quell the anger stirring in your stomach. He’d ruined your gift, your welcome home present— and he probably didn’t even notice.
“He is a dick. A big one,” Scott scoffs, gaze lingering over the vegetative carnage, “I’m sorry he did this because of me…”
“Acts of random dickishness are not your fault, Summers.”
Scott actually smiles at that one.
“Did you like it at least? The flowers? The girls were so excited about it. We all wanted you to… never mind. You– you get it.”
You look at the mismatched rescues you’ve already gathered in your hands. Thank god you still had the bouquet in your room at least.
“Yeah, Scott. I loved them.”
He gives a reassuring nod. Scott wasn’t much for words. That’s okay, you didn’t expect him to be. Yes, he’s the leader but there’s still so much of that quiet boy you see in him.
“Logan will probably be gone for the night. I’ll talk to him when he gets back. I’ll fix this, Doze.” Scott assures you, that leadership role dropping so easily into place. Charles made the right choice with him.
“That’s okay, Scott. I’ll take care of it myself.”
__________
Scott was right, Logan doesn’t come back until the following afternoon. You’re on the mansion's north side with Charles, showing him your layout plans, when you hear the roar of that stupid bike again.
“Sorry, Charles,” you quickly step away from your old mentor, “I have to handle something.”
“I hope you won’t be ruining my grounds even further while you handle this,” Charles tuts disapprovingly, completely aware of Logan’s transgressions from the previous night. Being psychic, he was no doubt also completely aware of just how angry you were. Jean did say your thoughts are loud after all. Still, he lets you go without another word.
This guy had been nothing but a creep to you since you got here, stacking more anxiety on top of your already overflowing insecurities. Strutting around like he owned the place. Looking at you like a piece of meat. You’d seen too many men like him in your life. He needs to be knocked down a peg.
“Hey!” You have his attention as soon as he kills the engine. He rolls his eyes as he lazily tilts his head in your direction.
“What, sweetheart?” his face is painted over with an arrogance that was just begging to be slapped off.
You’ll happily oblige.
Kicking your heel into the dirt you send a wave through the ground. A small pillar of rock shoots up under the bike. It falls under the sudden jolt, and so does Logan along with it. The shock on his face was already worth it.
“What the hell?!” He sneers as he crawls out from under the bike.
“Why don’t you watch where you're driving next time, asshole,” You dare to take a step forward. He scrambles to his feet, a metallic ring following the movements.
Ah, there they are— the infamous metal claws. Now these you’ve heard stories about.
“That is quite enough,” Charles rolls up behind you, “I will not have this boorish display of dominance on my property.”
To his credit, Logan is the first one to drop his defenses. He sheaths his claws with an irritated shrug.
“Don’t know what the hell I did for any of this crap,” He practically mumbles. You resist the urge to throw a pebble at his head.
“You wrecked my garden!” You can practically feel the ground vibrating in your anger.
Logan looks down at his feet, remnants of the flora he’d unknowingly destroyed still scattered across the dirt.
“Hell of a place for a garden, toots,” he scoffs, kicking at the now withered flowers, “What you want an apology, then?”
You kick another small wave towards him. He catches himself on the shaking ground this time, only giving a scowl your way.
“Enough!” Charles comes between you. “If you insist on behaving like children, then you will be treated like children.”
“He started it!” against your better judgment you mockingly point a finger at Logan. Charles only offers a disappointed shake of the head.
Once a student, always a student.
Charles addresses you first, “You have my permission to use school funds to purchase more garden supplies, and I apologize on behalf of my newest pupil since he seems to be incapable of doing it himself. They were a gift after all,” he turns to Logan, “And you will take her to get them.”
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
Both you and Logan protest at the same time.
“If you insist on protesting then I’d like to remind you I can always make you do it in different ways,” It’s an empty threat, of course. One of his favorite tactics to use. You remember him making the same kind to you when you were a student. He sighs before making his way back inside the mansion, “I will not have more petty rivalries in this house at a time like this. See it done… Today.”
You’re left alone together, both staring down at your feet like scolded children. Well into your adulthood you’re still finding ways to disappoint Charles Xavier. You’re ashamed you let your anger get the better of you again. You thought you were past this. Better than this.
Logan may have been an ass, but he was an X-man too. A friend of your friends. You didn’t even give him a chance to fix this before you came barreling in fists first. Still, you don’t really regret it either…
Fine.
With a deep sigh, you’re the first to concede.
“I have a truck.”
Logan hesitates for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.
“I’ll drive.”
“Absolutely not.”
__________
The drive to the Westchester Greenhouse was tense and completely silent. Now he’s following three paces behind you like a giant angry shadow. The sweet grandmas perusing the hydrangeas take one look at him looming behind you and change rows. It’s hilarious if you're being honest. You’d cooled down over the drive, you’re not entirely sure he has. Every step he takes is tense, you can feel it through the damp concrete floor.
You wonder if he’s aware of how intimidating he is. He has to be. That or he truly didn’t care. From what little you knew about this man it’s probably a bit of both.
“I don’t get why we’re here,” his gruff voice surprises you, “Can’t you just… grow more?”
“I can’t grow things,” you respond, placing a tray of tiger lilies in your cart, “Just move dirt.”
He hums and looks away in response. This was getting painful. If Charles insisted on sending you both out on this stupid little team-building exercise then you might as well try a little… for Charles.
“I can’t grow plants but I can… feel them.” You continue.
To your surprise, he actually responds. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Maybe ‘ I can kinda talk to pants’ isn’t the best icebreaker topic but it’s a start. You look around rows of greenery, your attention landing on a crudely drawn sign that reads ‘ Man-Eating Plants. ’ Perfect. Most basic nurseries never knew how to take care of carnivorous plants properly.
“Here I’ll show you,” you walk over to the small section of venus fly traps. Your suspicions were correct. Brown-tipped leaves and shriveled black heads could be spotted on nearly every plant. They’d repotted them in all-purpose soil without a second thought.
“Don’t tell me you can talk to them.” Logan comes to stand next to you.
“No, nothing like that. But look,” you point at the crisping leaves of one plant. “They’re over-fertilized. They get their nutrients from bugs, not the soil. They’re roots don’t like what’s in the dirt and I can… feel that. So then I talk to the dirt.”
Logan raises an amused brow. You’re not entirely sure if it’s mocking or genuinely curious.
“So whaddya do ‘bout that?” he probes.
Curious it is. You take a quick glance around, making sure no one is close enough to see. Thankfully the massive scary man at your side and some towering majesty palms are enough cover for you.
“We take out what they don’t like in the soil. And what’s soil and fertilizer but some specific minerals.”
You’d first gotten the idea when you’d heard Magneto could rip iron directly out of people's blood. If his powers could be so precise, why not yours? It took years to master. You practiced by dumping table salt on the yard and trying to only summon the granules to your hands.
Same concept here.
You hold your hand over the small carnivorous beasts, feeling the small pellets of fertilizer mixed into their soil. You can feel the specific minerals and separate them out. Steadily, tiny pellets hovered out of each pot in neat rows and gathered above your hand. Once gathered you clench your open palm into a fist, the pellets gathering into one solid rock the size of a golf ball.
“There,” the mineral-dense rock drops into your hand, “Come back in a month and I guarantee these guys will be doing better.”
“Oh, I’m never coming back here,” despite the bitterness of his words, Logan says them with a smile. He’s teasing you.
“Well then,” you turn to him and place the rock in his jacket’s breast pocket, “There, a little souvenir to remember your forced trip to the greenhouse for being a jerk.”
You’re walking back to the cart before he has a chance to respond. The air feels lighter between the two of you now. You don’t like that you had to be the bigger person when he’s clearly been the one in the wrong but… it’s something, you guess.
Your little demonstration reminds you that you need better-treated soil if you’re going to make these gardens work. The ground around the mansion was fine but they needed something ritcher to give the plants a good head start. You could mix the soil yourself from around the area but it was infinitely easier to get already prepared bags of it here. Just a few for the topsoil should be fine. Charles said this was all on him, after all.
You stop in front of the stacked bags of various soil mixes. You reach for the general outdoor plant mix. Logan’s hand beats yours to the fuschia pink labeled bag, pulling it off the stack and tossing it over his shoulder.
“How many?” he asks, emotionless.
“Uh… let’s start with five?”
He grabs two more and effortlessly stacks them on his shoulder. He holds the other two in his free hand. He stands there holding over a hundred pounds of dirt like it’s nothing.
“Okay, what next?”
The sun is starting to set when you make your way back to the manor. The air between the two of you is decidedly less tense but it’s still painfully silent. There was… progress made. You didn’t hate him anymore and hopefully he would treat your property with more care from now on. He tried, in the only way stoic men like him can. Not with words, but with small actions. Carrying bags of dirt for hours, shooing you away from loading the truck and doing it all himself, opening the car door for you. For some reason actually saying ‘sorry’ was always so much harder than just showing you he was sorry.
You got it. Your father and brothers were the same. You wonder if he was a military man too.
That doesn’t change the fact that you hadn’t apologized either. Yes, he’d wrong you first, but you provoked him without warning. Actions instead of just talking like an adult. Yeah, actions were always easy for people like you.
And in your own fucked up little way, you’d made him the subject of your anxieties. He was new here, you’d made yourself an outcast. They all clearly adored him despite his rugged nature. Charles so clearly wanted to help this man who was too skittish to be helped. It reminded you of someone else…
You could extend the metaphorical olive branch. Offer something that resembled friendship. That’s why Charles sent you out here, but you’re going to do it your own way.
Somewhere that holds a lot of memories is coming up on the right, and you could use a drink. The sudden turn off the road jolts Logan from his empty gazing out the window.
“Jesus Christ, woman!” He reaches for the center console, shooting you a glare. You hold back a smile, “This isn’t the way back to the school.”
“We’re not going back to the school,” You pull into an all too familiar parking lot, a red neon sign already lit up reading ‘Stevie’s Bar ‘n’ Grill’ illuminates the windshield. You’d snuck over here at least a dozen times when you were in school.
“Let me buy you a drink.”
“What?” He smirks with a raise of the eyebrow. He does that a lot, you've noticed.
“Look, I—” You take a breath and shift the car into park. You can do this, it’s just words, “I wasn’t fair. You did a shitty thing, yeah, but you didn’t know. And I came at you with no explanation.”
“I’m used to it.” He shrugs jokingly, trying to lighten the mood you’ve suddenly soured. It works. You smile.
“It’s… weird. Being back,” you’re grip on the wheel tightens ever so slightly in an attempt to ground yourself, “I don’t expect you to understand this, but it’s weird coming back to a place you called home and feeling like a stranger. Despite everything your friends are saying, you just feel wrong there. I tried to take my insecurities out on you Logan. I’m sorry.”
The bloated silence that settles between the two of you doesn’t help, but you can’t blame him. What was he supposed to say after you just bared part of your soul? You’re not expecting an apology but it hurts a little when he hops out of the truck. You’re about to yell after him when he rounds the front and comes to your door. He opens it and leans in closer than you’d like.
“How about I buy you a drink then?” There’s that stupid smirk of his again, “You said it yourself, I did a shitty thing. You drug me out here to clean up my mess, wrecked your little welcome home present Jean wouldn’t shut up about. I owe you a drink, toots.”
He leans in a little closer. You can smell the cigar smoke on him, probably embedded into his clothes at this point. It’s not an apology. Not really.
It’s an olive branch.
__________
It’s exactly the same. Old country on the jukebox, dirty floors, old tattooed lady bartenders that wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they tried something. Funny how little hole-in-the-wall places like this never change. You’re grateful for it.
You and Logan huddled into the farthest booth in the corner away from the commotion. His beer’s already half gone by the time you’re on your second sip. Somehow you’re not surprised.
“How the hell did Charles get stuck with you?” You laugh as he wipes away the suds from his stubble.
“Funny, I could ask you the same.”
You playfully kick him under the table and he thankfully laughs it off. He had a nice smile… you suppose.
“He drug me in kicking and screaming,” You take another sip, glancing at the kitchen door in hopes the fries you ordered were coming. Logan leans forward, waiting for you to continue. “I… ran away from my birth family. Was on the streets for probably six months before he found me. I was thirteen.”
“That’s the most boring way to tell a probably good story I’ve ever heard,” He says before taking another gulp.
“Oh, please tell me your life story then, Mr. Wolverine.” You cross your arms.
“Oh, we’d be here a while, Darlin’.”
Well… if he was asking about you.
“I was born in Guam… I think. We moved almost every year. Mom died before I even had memories. Was brought up by a Colonel in the army and two brothers.”
“Military brat. Should have guessed.” You kick him under the table again, “Explains the temper too I guess.”
“Well, a military upbringing with a bunch of boys’ll do that.”
When was the last time you told someone about your life? And why was it so easy to tell him? He holds your gaze for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat.
“Why’d you run away then?” He asks.
“Oh, you’re gonna need a lot more alcohol in me for that, fella.” you skillfully evade the question. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to tell him everything .
“That can be arranged,” waves at the waitress, signaling for another round. You look at his practically empty mug and you're still practically full one— and still no fries. God help you.
“Your turn,” you prompt him, “Tell me something about you.”
His posture tenses.
“Not much to tell, sweetheart.”
“Where were you born?”
“Don’t remember.”
“Okay, where’d you grow up?”
“Same answer.”
“Did you—”
“Look,” he cuts you off, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening, “Like I said, it’s a long story… but I’m missing a lot of details. It’s not worth listening to, I promise.”
You suddenly feel bad for snooping so much. He had a boundary, and that was fine. Just because you were so keen on sharing doesn’t mean he has to be.
The waitress delivers your next round along with a greasy basket of fries. Logan is the first to reach for one.
“You said Chuck drug you in kicking and screaming?” His eyes soften again, “I guess he did with me too.”
He’s trying to be friendly. Trying to be a little gentler.
“Oh?” you gently prod him to continue.
“I’m not…” he runs his hand through his pointed hair, “I wasn’t a good man… the parts I can remember. And Chuck gave me a chance. I don’t like it all the time… bein’ somewhere I don’t belong. I run. It’s what I do. But they keep havin’ me back. So… I get it.”
You suspect he hasn’t told anyone this, but he’s saying it to you. He chose you to trust for some reason. Your heart clenches.
You thumb at the handle of your still mostly full beer next to another waiting one, unsure of how to continue. You both started with the heavy shit, so there was only one way to go now. You came here to clear the air… but you also came here to drink. You take the mug and raise it to Logan.
“To the class fuck ups then.”
__________
In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to buy you six drinks on a practically empty stomach. To be fair, you didn’t admit that you’d skipped lunch until drink four and by then the fries were gone and the kitchen was closed. Half a basket of fries wasn't a good substitute dinner, it turns out. Not so much a lightweight as just an idiot, but everyone’s a lightweight compared to Logan. Perk of a healing factor is he can sober up pretty damn quick when he needs to. Practically had to wrestle the keys out of your hands while you were stumbling your way back to the truck.
Cute how you thought you could put up a fight. He carried you the rest of the way to the truck, you giggling the whole way. Funny how he didn’t really mind either.
So used to drinking alone, he’d forgotten what it was like to do it with someone else. All the comradery that came with it and a few sloppy games of pool too. Kurt wasn’t much for booze, unfortunately. Hank, Jean, and Storm were always too damn busy to relax, and Scott… like hell he’d have a drink with Scott.
But this was all your idea. You brought him to a shitty bar, shared a little bit yourself with him and now he was driving you home while you poorly slurred along with whatever was playing on the radio.
And he didn’t mind one bit.
He didn’t know what to make of you when you first came. They all talked about you with such admiration whenever your name came up… which was all the damn time. You were quiet, skittish almost. Kept your nose down and got to work immediately.
He recognized what you were doing right away.
Logan understood what it was like to be part of something and feel like a stranger. Hell, that’s all he’d ever been. Just someone passing through until the X-Men. He’s still learning how to do it. Be part of something. He meant it when he said he wasn’t a good man, but he’s a better man than he was. He wouldn’t have that without Charles.
And here you come, someone who had it all and left it behind just to try to be normal out in the world. The one thing people like you could never be. Yeah, he really got it.
You admitted you were an angry kid in your drunken ramblings. He has a hard time picturing you that way— a little rebel. You shied away from talking more about personal things. Your family and whatever the hell else that past life entailed. He didn’t pry, didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than he already had. Instead, the conversation drifted into one of those that’s about everything and nothing at all. Just sharing drinks with a friend kind of conversation.
He liked it… having someone to talk to.
You’re finishing up belting Bohemian Raposesty when he finally pulls into the driveway of the mansion.
“Shows over, rockstar,” he announces as he kills the engine.
���Boooo!” You weakly protest as soon as the radio dies, “Killjoy!”
“That’s me,” he grumbles, getting out and walking over to your door. You slump out of the seat as soon as he opens it, “Come on, princess.”
You’re slumped over, curled up into the flannel he offered as a blanket. He pulls you into his arms, deciding it’d be easier to just carry you straight to bed rather than herd you up the steps. God he hopes everyone’s gone to bed by now, otherwise he’s probably going to get an earful for getting their precious darling drunk.
“You’re like the firemen… in those calendars…” you slur as he pushes through the front door, “Or a lumberjack. With those chops, you have to be a lumberjack.”
He holds back a laugh at your girlish ramblings. To his relief, no one is in the foyer. He quickly hikes up the stairs, squirming drunk girl in hand. You were already dozing off by the time he reached the top of the stairs.
Thank god.
“Whoa, deja vu,” you rub your hands down your face, “I feel like 'm 16 again. We did this all the time back ‘n the day.”
“Yeah? Who carried you to bed then?” your door is in sight.
“The Professor.” you jokingly wheeze out without hesitation. “Guy loves his brandy.”
“Mmm, I’m sure,” Logan scoots past your door, careful of your head. He lays you down on the bed gently, you don’t protest. He carefully unlaces your shoes while you squirm into the covers.
“Y’know, yer nicer than I thought you’d be.” You can’t even keep your eyes open now.
“That right?” Logan smiles to himself as he pulls one sneaker off.
“Mmhmm,” you nod, nuzzling your head into the pillow, “Funny, I thought the Wolverine would be so scary.”
He cringes a little at your words. He won’t hold them against you, not in this state.
“I’m very scary.”
You blow a raspberry before continuing, “No yer not! You're just a guy. A hunky, lumberjack guy who hates flowers.”
“I don’t hate flowers.”
“Right… just my flowers.”
“Yeah, just your flowers,” he pulls off the other shoe. Your feet immediately shoot up into the covers. He smooths a comforting hand over your hip. It makes him happier than it should when you don’t flinch away.
“You need anything else, darlin’?”
“Stop doin’ that,” You groan into the pillow.
“Stop what?”
“Makin’ me blush with your dumb pet names.” You admit, “Stop it.”
He smiles to himself, a familiar warm feeling rising in his stomach. He’ll leave you be for tonight. Best to wait until you're sober to ask what you mean by that anyway, if only to watch you blush a little more.
“I’ll leave you be then,” he almost feels regret when he stands off of the bed. Almost. You were drunk. Tired. There was nothing more to be said tonight.
He drags your empty trash can over to the side of the bed, just in case, and fills a glass of water for you too.
“I had fun tonight,” He says before walking towards the door. Your voice makes him pause.
“Logan?” you call out like a scolded child.
“Yeah?”
“You don’t actually hate my flowers, do you?”
“No, darlin’. I don’t hate your flowers.”
He makes sure to turn off the light and close the door behind him.
__________
#logan howlett#logan howlet x reader#wolverine x reader#logan james howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine fanfiction#x men#fanfic#wolverine smut
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Hey 👋🏽!!,
I just want to stop by and say I absolutely love your fics, you capture Daryl so well😍. I was wondering if you could write something where Norman stops by his restaurant in Senoia for a quick meeting and sees the hot new waitress working there and it's lust at first sight🥵😈 .. He has to have her.. They meet up after her shift takes her back to his home and c o m p l e t e l y ruins her 🥴🫠: Blowjob & swallow, NORMAN WHIMPERING 😩🤌🏽 as reader sucks him off, deep fingering, face sitting & squirt, eating out tongue fuck!ng, ROUGH doggie style with a sloppy creampie breeding kink ending 😮💨 WHEW LAWD😶🌫️🫣, I hope this isn't too off the rails for you 🙃 Below is an aesthetic of what I want female reader and Norman to look like
"The New Girl"
Please and thank you 🙏🏾 🤭
GIRL. OMFG. THE WAY YOU DID NOT HOLD BACK AT ALL?? LITERALLY CURLING MY TOES PULLING MY HAIR KNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE
I’m actually really scared because this is gonna be my first time ever writing for Norman, or an actor in general, and I’m just nervous for this to come out like super corny or I write him super out of character and it’s like your average fangirl fanfic but tbh we’re just gonna close our eyes, spin around in circles and god willing nothing bad happens
The reader is black, obvs, but it’s written in a way where everyone can still enjoy and squeeze their thighs together, you’ll just be one of us in this story 🎀
Also how did I not know Norman had a restaurant… three actually…
This definitely has a word count of atleast 4k my phone actually started to slow down everytime I opened this
@blackvelveteen1339 I hope I did you justice cause holy fucking hell this was the hottest request EVER ❤️❤️
THE NEW GIRL
“Are ya' impressed yet?”
Everyone knows that moving to another place will always be the hardest feature in life, let alone moving to a whole new city in a whole different state.
Senoia was absolutely stunning, with breathtaking views and beach perfect weather. It was totally everything that you had hoped it would be, and so was your little studio apartment, which wasn’t bad at all considering the cozy size, not to mention there were quite a few stores around, also well as the infamous main street.
You sighed, a twinge of sadness. At almost twenty-seven, this would be your first time ever living alone, having lived with your parents for a huge chunk of your life. You were still young and wanted to go out into the big world on your own, and for the longest Georgia had been calling out your name.
Some of your friends and family had discouraged you from going, claiming that it was ridiculous to move so far away from home so carelessly. For a minute, you had even thought so yourself, repeating it over and over again in your head that it wasn’t worth it, or that it was just a dumb dream, and you didn’t even have a path in mind. It was a reckless thing to do, to go into a whole new state with no clue on what you wanted to do with yourself, let alone who you wanted to be.
Yet, here you sat in your new apartment, with nothing but a suitcase, duffel bag and mattress to your name, yes, happier than you’ve ever been but lonely as well. You check your phone, swiping through your notifications before unlocking it, and opening your Instagram.
You had always been a quiet and reserved person with a bit of a wild side, which you kept hidden very well under wraps. Your feed consisted of hair tips, food, traveling, and a little heat. You followed a couple of influencers, mostly your favorite music artists, and actors. There were lots of concerts happening in Atlanta, which you found wasn't far away from Senoia at all. You'd always wanted to see some of your faves in person, but none of them had ever come out to where you used to live. Not to mention, it was expensive. Speaking of expensive, you realized that you would need to start looking for a job sooner or later if you wanted to keep your studio.
Luckily you had enough to pay rent for at least the next few months, however, groceries were quite pricey these days. You huffed and glanced over to your suitcase to where it remained unpacked in the corner, clothes spilling out of it from where you had been carelessly digging through it. You had only been in Georgia for a few weeks, and hadn't really left to go anywhere. By the looks from what you could see out the window, it was an undeniably nice day, and job opportunities were always fluttering around. You decided that it was finally time to get your shit together and show Senoia what kind of girl you really were.
Swinging off your makeshift bed, you rose to your feet, grimacing slightly and groaning softly as you stretched and walked over towards the bathroom, frowning at the tangled mess that was your hair once you stood in front of the mirror. There were also a few stains on your shirt. Yeah, a shower was definitely needed. You twisted the handle to the middle and allowed the water to heat up, padding over to your messy suitcase.
There were a couple of hangers in the closet but that was about it. Luckily there were also shelves built in which would have to do for now. You were probably going to need a small list of things, hangers being priority number one.
Going through the suitcase, you had your everyday clothes, some old work clothes, and few clubbing clothes. Your duffel bag contained your personable items, as well as a couple of important documents and paperwork for the apartment. You had already moved all your hygienic stuff into the bathroom, and decided to stress about putting away your clothes later, focusing on what you would actually wear out.
You wanted it to be a mix between comfortable yet classy, classy yet also sexy. A simple and lowcut long-sleeve matched with a pair of bootcut jeans that you could easily jazz up with some jewelry and a cute hairstyle. Draping the outfit over your bed, you began to rid yourself of your clothes, fishing a towel as well as a bra and pair of panties out of your duffel bag, and stacking them together on the bathroom counter. You played music off your phone out loud and made a mental note to also buy a speaker, letting out a satisfied groan as you stepped under the hot spray from the shower head.
The water ran down the length of your body from where it soaked in your curly hair, eyes fluttering shut as droplets began rolling down your face. It felt incredible to have days worth of bedrotting be finally washed down the drain. You wiped the water out your eyes and wringed it out your hair, reaching for the shampoo bottle and twisting the cap off, dumping a handful of the liquid into your palm. You smeared it from the top of your head, carrying it down to your ends, beginning to thoroughly scrub your way back up to your scalp, where you worked the soap into the strands.
Once your hair was completely coated and covered in suds, you rinsed the excess from your hands and grabbed your body wash to start cleaning yourself up as you let the shampoo soak into your hair. You drizzled a generous amount onto the sponge amd ran it under the hot water, rubbing it together in your hands to create the foamy bubbles. You began to work your way up one arm, scrubbing the skin as you went over your shoulder and underneath your arm, moving over across your collarbone to the other arm, eventually working down the length of your chest, as well as legs.
You squeezed the remaining soap out from the sponge, hanging it back in its spot as you started to rinse off your body, leaned your head back and wringing the sudsy water out your hair, hands working to wash all the shampoo out the coily strands. Not that you were in a rush, but it did take a little time, an ache beginning to form in your arms by the time you were done. Pumping a generous amount of conditioner into your hand, you worked it into your scalp with the tips of your fingers and rubbed it into the rest of the strands, clipping it back once there was no more left in your hands.
This time you shaved your legs, cause lord knows it’s been a minute since you’ve done that. In the process of shaving them, you noticed that your bikini area could also use some razor work.
It had been a little while since you had needed any reason to shave down there, but now that you were in a new environment with new faces, you never knew what you might stumble across. The men back in your hometown were okay, but you held your hopes up high that Senoia would toss something totally unexpected your way.
Once you were bare and smooth, you washed away the hair caught in your razor and unclipped your curly hair, rinsing off the clip before your hair, humming at how soft the strands felt under the stream of water. You squeezed and wrung out the conditioner, hearing the days of neglect run down the drain. When it was all out, you gave your body one last thorough scrub, properly washing off your skin from head to toe before shutting off the water and grabbing your towel.
You sighed as you patted your face dry, moving down your neck and chest. As you dried your hair, you stood in front of the mirror, lazily singing along to the current song playing and striking a few poses in your nude form. Although you did have a few insecurities, ones that sprouted from your late teen years and hadn't really left in your adult years, you preferred to just focus on the parts of yourself that you really liked.
It was still fairly early as you rechecked your phone, dropping the towel down on the ground and slipping on your panties, clasping your bra on shortly after. You grabbed your toothbrush and squeezed almost a little too much paste onto the bristles, giving it some water before scrubbing your teeth, mindlessly walking around your apartment as you did. The main street below your window was still bustling with cars and filled with people spilling out of shops, and music thumping from the lively restaurants. There was a nearby park that was full of squealing children, as well as other people from the community and neighboring apartment complexes. All of it was much different than what you had grown accustomed to back home, but it was such a nice change of scenery all at the same time, and you couldn't wait to throw yourself out onto Senoia's street.
Back in your little bathroom, you flicked the sink faucet on and spit the gathered foam out, filling your mouth with water and swishing it around for a little, spitting it out as well. You also brushed your tongue before taking in another mouthful of water, washing out the remaining toothpaste from your brush before dropping it back in its cup, shutting the sink off, and wiping your mouth dry. Taking a deep, but quick grounding breath, you moved to put your clothes on, hiking your fairly tight jeans up before slipping on your top. Even though it was plain black, it had a cute set of flared sleeves.
You dug through your bag for your box of jewelry as well as your makeup, setting both down heavily on the counter as you stared at your hair in the mirror, huffing in annoyance as you started to wonder if you needed to style it. Maybe a half-up half-down look? No, a full ponytail would be better. But a high bun would also be cute... or maybe a half-bun. Maybe bald. Bald would be best.
You mentally kick yourself as you flip the lid to your makeup box open to distract yourself from your hairstyle dilemma. You reassured yourself that you'd figure out something by the time you were fully ready, sighing as you prepped your face. The only times you ever really used makeup was when you were going out with intent, and wanted to make sure that your face stood out to any potential victims. It didn't take long to do as you pointedly and skillfully brushed sharp and soft lines over your honey skin, keeping your hand as steady as your body would allow you.
A few swipes of liner and mascara later, glossy lips, and the front of your hair parted to the side, you were clipping on a silver necklace paired with a bracelet, and a dangly pair of earrings. It was a bit simple, so you decided to layer another necklace on top of the other, smiling at yourself in the mirror before flipping the lights off, padding out into the bedroom, and fishing around for your purse, placing it on the bed next to you as you slid on a pair of wedged sandals. Hopefully, the foot pain later would be worth it.
You slipped your phone into your back pocket, and threw your purse onto your shoulder, tossing in a small bottle of perfume just in case. You shut the doors inside and flicked off the main room light, creaking your front door open and securely shutting it behind you, locking it with your keys before tossing them into your purse, striding down the hallway of your complex with intention hot in your steps.
When you pushed the door of your building open, the warm and inviting air of Senoia almost immediately filling your lungs, you felt a strong sense of anticipation surge through you as you walked out onto the sidewalk, the sounds of conversations now real and more animated than ever, the thumping of music now bumped through your feet and right in your chest.
As you casually strolled down the sidewalk, taking in all the different buildings and things to do, a furniture store caught your eye. While you didn't have any money, it never hurt to look around, and maybe get some information from some of the locals.
The furniture store was filled with pieces on the much older side and vintage lamps that only old ladies would be interested in, but you continued to walk around anyway. As you were browsing a wall of intricate paintings and sculptures, a kind-looking woman approached you.
"Welcome to Hollberg's! Our newer, more modern stuff is upstairs if that's more your style" She smiled, and you gave a polite one in return. "I'm just browsing for now. Just moved here about a week ago and I don't have a job yet" You lightly laughed.
The woman gave you an excited expression, clasping her hands together. "How nice! Where are you from originally?"
"Louisiana, Chalmette. I lived there for most of my life so I just needed a fresh start somewhere totally new." You sigh, still kindly smiling at her.
"I get that, and Senoia is perfect for that, Georgia overall. Atlanta is also quite close, and there's lots of job opportunities out there."
You frown, "Unfortunately I don't have a car, and you can't Uber without money" Shaking your head at your obviously very sticky situation.
The woman seemed to think for a moment, walking quickly away to fetch something from behind a desk and coming back over, holding out a few pieces of paper. "We aren't hiring now, but here are some flyers for restaurants in this strip. Not sure how lucky you'll get, but I do wish you luck. There's a cafe right across the way" You took the flyers from her, smiling at her one last. "Thanks girl. Hopefully, next time we talk it's about furniture" She let out a small laugh, watching as you spun on your heels and walked out of the store.
On your way out, you almost immediately spotted the cafe and wasted no time walking over to it, quickly crossing the street while throwing a few quick glances to the left and right as you did. Before you entered, you slipped the restaurant flyers into your purse and swung the door open, the smell of coffee strong and a bit overwhelming. The cafe was quite large inside, and there was a small line at the registers at near front, nothing you weren't willing to stand in.
Once you reached the front, you were greeted by a young woman, smiling brightly at you. "Hi! Welcome to Senoia's Coffee and Cafe, what can I get started for you?"
"Sorry, I'm not looking to buy anything, I'm actually looking for work. I just moved here about a week ago" She made a small look of surprise, furrowing her brows as she mouthed 'one moment' and disappeared behind a wall, returning mere seconds later with a sheepish look replacing her previous one. "We, unfortunately, aren't hiring right now. I think my boss is in a bad mood, but I heard the restaurant down the street is hiring! Uh, just can't think of the name"
You fish out the flyers, "Any of these?" Holding them out to her. She tilts her head, humming quietly before tapping her finger against one. "This place! They need waitresses, especially around this time. You'd be a great fit there too" She smiled, and you smiled back, giving her a "Thanks" before walking back out of the shop, and down the sidewalk, eyeing a few of the other buildings before stopping in front of dark gray one, reading the sign before pulling the door open.
The inside of the restaurant was absolutely stunning, with clean floors, and light walls mixed with brick that complemented the expensive chandlers hanging from the ceiling, highlighted against the polished wooden furniture. There was casual jazz playing in back, loud enough to hear but loud enough to still be able to talk normally.
The restaurant was fairly small, a highly stocked bar on one side and the dining room on the other, bathrooms at the back. You weren't quite sure where to stand, awkwardly off to the side as you scanned the room for someone, feeling relieved when a woman spotted you and called that she would be right there. You watched as she cleaned a finished table, quickly walking the dirty dishes into the kitchen before coming back out, huffing when she reappeared.
"It's a lot of work, huh?" You asked kindly, and she sighed.
"Hell yes. I jus' wish I had one more set of hands" She laughed airily, tapping at something on her register. "Table fer one?"
You shook your head, "No, I'm actually here to work. Just moved here a week ago" Smiling softly at her.
She gave you a look of surprise, "Really? Where ya comin' from?"
"Chalmette in Louisiana. I just needed a different change of scenery, somewhere new where I can figure my shit out" She nodded her head at your words. "I hear that. Good fer ya' girl! Like I said, I need one more set of hands. Got any experience?"
"I worked in a sports bar for a good while back home, there wasn't really much to work with" You sighed. "I've never served tables but I was a host for a little bit"
She seemed pretty satisfied, nodding as you spoke with a smile tugging her lips. "Well, I'd say yer gonna make a pretty good damn waitress. How soon can ya' start?"
"I'd start today if you let me" You laugh lightly, and she makes a face. "I mean if you can bring me the papers I need within the hour I can get you a shift tonight"
You blinked at her, raising a brow. "Seriously?"
"I'll give ya' the uniform straight after, m'serious" She smiled, holding out her hand.
You took hers in yours with little hesitation, shaking it firmly. “I’ll be right back” Was all you said before walking out the restaurant, quickly and eagerly striding back over to your apartment building. It was maybe a five minute walk, which was not bad at all. As you entered, walking through the lobby and up the stairs, you dug in your purse for the keys to your studio, swinging them around your finger as you walked down the hallway on your floor.
Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and shut it, placing your purse on the counter and taking out the flyers, rushing over to your suit case and flipping it open, rummaging through. You grumbled as you began pulling stuff out, zipping open pockets and shaking the bag, about to freak out when the blue folder fell out. “Aha!”
You cracked it open, smiling when you confirmed the important papers such as your W2 as well as birth certificate. You rose to your feet and it in your purse, finish out your wallet to make sure you had your I.D as well as social security, tossing it back into the bag and sliding it back over your shoulder, setting out your house once again to go get your new job.
You felt a small amount of anxiety boiling in your stomach as the sun started to set, the main street of Senoia, only get louder and louder, even through your shut window. Your eyes flickered down to your pressed uniform, sharply exhaling as you checked the time on your phone and unlocked it, rereading the schedule over and over again. It was about five-thirty, and you needed to be there at six.
Hooking your phone up to get some more charge as you stripped out your regular clothed and into your work ones, humming pleasantly as you looked the mirror. The shirt was tight but loose fit, and the pants covered your ankles. It was an all black uniform, ‘Nic & Norman’s’ in the left corner embroidered in white.
To keep your hair out the way, but still stylish, you tied it back into two high and curly space buns. You decided to go for a simple cat eye liner look, sticking on a pair of lashes instead of mascara this time. A few quick swipes of a rose pink gloss, and a couple spritz’s of your most expensive perfume, you were done and ready to go.
As you slipped a pair of black tennis shoes on, you still had a lingering feeling of nerves in your tummy. This wasn’t your first job obviously, but this was you first waitress job. The woman you had spoken too, who’s name you learned was Tyler, reassured you that you were a perfect fit.
Standing in the mirror one last time, you gave yourself a good look over to make sure you looked professional and presentable, hopefully also tippable.
You tossed your purse over your shoulder, and draped a sweater over yourself, flipping off all the lights and shutting the front door behind you, locking it and stuffing your keys inside.
Just as you expected, the air was brisk and much cooler than it had been when the sun was still high in the sky, night falling over the streets and Senoia’s street lighting itself up, restaurants now more alive than ever. As you walked with a small crowd, you observed how almost everyone was now dressed in more proper attire, nicely ironed suits paired to modestly short dresses.
The outside seating of Nic & Norman’s was already packed full when you arrived, swinging the door open to find the inside seats equally as stuffed. You felt your nerves soaring this time, and tried not to awkwardly duck your head down as you walked into the kitchen, feeling like a foreigner.
“Y/n! Thank fuck!” Tyler gasped from behind you, making you jump slightly. “I’ve got salads and burgers wedged so far up m’fuckin’ ass” She grumbled, grabbing you by thw wrist and pulling you quickly through the clamoring kitchen into a back office.
She dropped down onto a seat, sighing heavily. “Is it like this every night?” You asked, a little more scared then you should be.
“Sometimes. If m’not mistaken, one of the owners should be coming tomorrow. Boy do I sure hope it’s Norman” Tyler sighed, dreamily at the end. She stared off into space with a small smile, and you looked around the room, looking at the overflowing cubbies. “Shit sucks. Ya’ can stick yer stuff with mine” She spoke, snapped out her trance and pointing at a pile a good distance away from the rest. “It’s okay. People know not ta’ fuck with m’shit” Tyler added when she saw the wary look on your face.
“So, who exactly is ‘Nic and Norman’?” You question, and Tyler’s mouth drops.
“You don’t know who Greg Nicotero and Norman Reedus are?” You shook your head, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Maybe you did know them, you just never were very big on putting faces to names.
Tyler whipped out her phone, but frowned. “Shit girl, forgot we had a job ta’ be doin’. Don’ even stress. Ya’ look real good. Shirt fits ya’ good too. Yer gon be loaded up with tips, ‘nd m’sure ya’ can handle tha’ creeps” She rose to her feet, checking her own makeup in the camera lense of her phone before pocketing it. “And don’ try ta’ be fuckin’ superman and carry thirty plates at a time. Pro-tip, learn some Tetris” Tyler swiped a new layer of gloss on her lips, and tossed it into her pocket, pulling you back through the busy kitchen.
“Luckily they print tha’ table number tha’ food is fer on tha’ ticket, so tha’ chef’s started ta’ put tickets with plates, so when ya come here, just find yer table” She explained quickly yet simply, each word she spoke going in one ear and echoing in the other, turning themselves on loop.
Tyler poked her head out the kitchen, looking around before she beckoned someone over. A young man came jogging over, and she pulled him inside by his shirt. Damn if she didn’t play around.
“This is Javi, one of our hosts tonigh’.” Tyler gestured to his with her hands, and he waved politely. “Javi is gon’ show ya’ yer table section. From this point on, m’gon be nothin’ but a blur ta’ ya” She placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling at you before turning and picking up the plates from earlier, easily balancing them on her arms and kicking open the kitchen door, out onto the floor.
A awkward moment of silence passed between you and the young man, not really quiet, but there were no words spoken as he swiped through something on an iPad, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re um, you’re y/n right?” He mumbled, and you nodded.
Javi motioned for you to follow him with his head, and he led you out into the loud dining area, bringing you over towards the bar. “See those four tables there?” He pointed, and you had to follow his finger, nodding when you spotted the four booths he was pointing to. “All yours. They can hold up to like ten people, so good luck.” You grimaced at that, feeling your stomach do flips.
“Here. Can’t be a waitress without your notepad. Or a pen” Javi joked, and you smiled kindly at him, thanking him. As you did, a new wave of people entered, prompting Javi to go over and get them situated. You watched as he seated the new guests, and pulled a group waiting from the lobby, grabbing their menus and leading them over to your section.
He came back over, mouthing ‘all yours’ before disappearing into the kitchen.
You took a few, shaky and deep breaths, before putting on your friendliest face and approaching the table.
Luckily, it was just a simple family, mom and dad with their two kids who seemed to be well over the age of ten. You greeted them with a kind smile, “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started on any drinks?” You clicked your pen, pressing it into the pad of paper.
The mother smiled back at you, “You guys sure are busy! I bet it’s always exciting when they come to town, huh?” She glanced back at her menu, acting as if she hadn’t left you totally clueless.
“Yeah. It’s only my first day here so I’m a little nervous” You confess, brushing off her earlier statement. “Gosh! Well, guess we’re testing you now!” She laughed, and you laughed as well, only a tad unnerved. “I think I’ll just do a simple cocktail” You nodded, writing down at the top of the pad. Her son ordered a strawberry lemonade, her daughter a soda, and her dad a beer.
“I’ll have those right out for you guys” You clicked your pen once again, and quickly walked away, retreating back into the kitchen.
You pushed the doors open, but frowned at the loud clamoring and multiple orders being shuffled out. No way in hell would your drinks be done in a reasonable time. You exited out the kitchen, glancing around when you had a lightbulb moment.
“Psst, hey muscle man” You called to the bartender, leaning against the counter. “Think you could make these real fast?” You held out the drink ticket, wiggling it as you flirtatiously smiled and batted your lashes.
He stammered for a second, “muscle man?” glancing down at himself and feeling a heat rise to his cheeks. What could you say? You knew a strong man when you saw one.
You kept your hand outstretched, motioning for him to take it.
“Do I even know you?” He raised a brow, and you shook your head. “Nope. But you should do it anyways” You smile, and he frowns, taking the paper from your hand. You spot Javi leaving your section, throwing you a glance and a thumbs up, and you tap the bartop. “I’m counting on you, Hercules”
You approach your second table, and feel a hint of annoyance surge through you as you discover it’s a group of men. Very loud ones at that. You put on your best fakest smile, clicking your pen against your leg as you spoke. “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get a round of drinks going for you gentlemen?”
One of the men whistled, “Well ain’t you just somethin’ pretty to look at” letting out a very country laugh.
A few of the other men let out laughs, and you simply smiled, more of ‘I wish I was off the clock so I could rock you’ smile, but still a smile. “Yeah. I’m also here to get you guys something to drink” You joked, knowing men tipped more when you gave into their antics.
"Let the woman do her job, Bill" Another man said to him, nudging him with his arm and he swatted them away. You tapped your pen against the paper, trying not to hurt one of them. Thankfully they made things easy and agreed to order a round of beer. You murmured that you'd be back, quickly walking out of the section to the bar.
When you walked over, you could see the family's drinks sitting on top of the counter and swapped out the drink tickets when you stopped before them. It was a little awkward trying to carry four drinks at once, struggling as you kept picking up and putting the cups downs.
“See? Wha' did I say?” Tyler spoke as she suddenly appeared next to you, placing a hand on her hip. “Tryin’ be some kind of fuckin’ avenger when yer jus’ makin’ yerself look goofy” She scoffed and held out her dish tray, watching as you placed the drinks down on it.
You took it from her with a sheepish look. "Thanks, Just a bit on edge" You told her, and she placed both her hands on your shoulders, smiling softly at you. "Don' be. Yer a natural. Jus' keep doin' wha' yer doin'" She gave you a salute and was gone as quickly as she had come.
Sighing sharply, you walk the tray of drinks over to the family with a smile and hand them, listening to the mother awe over the colors of her cocktail. "How pretty! I think we're all ready to order, right?" She glanced at her family for their confirmation, and you pulled your notepad out, tucking your tray under your arm. The mother ordered a margarita flatbread, her husband ordering a whiskey salmon, and her kids both ordering a classic hamburger. "I'll have those out for you guys shortly" You smiled once you had their order scribbled down, collecting their menus and leaving them be.
You walked past the men's table, briefly letting them know you were coming back with their beers, and dropped the menus off to the front where Javi was standing, getting the next group of people seated. "Y/n, I'm gonna stick these folks in your section. Hand me those" He said as he turned to you, taking the menus from your hand and leading them to your third table. You weren't doing too bad if you did say so yourself.
Thanks to the help of the tray, loading up the round of beers for the men wasn't much of a hassle at all. When they saw you approaching with the mugs filled to the bim, they whooped and hollered, prompting you to shush them as they began to collect eyes nearby. Instead of handing out the drinks like you did with the last table, you simply let them take their respective mug off the tray, knocking their glasses together. "I'm guessing you fellas are ready to order huh?" You give them your best show, even jutting your hip out a little. Don't get mad at a girl for using her resources.
"You bet'cha sweet ass we are, and this big boy wants a steak" The one they call Bill piped up once again, drumming on his belly as he spoke. A few laughs erupted from the table, and you felt your eye twitching. "How would you like that cooked?" You mumbled, smile just barely clinging to your face. "Medium-rare. I like mines to be pink on the inside" He laughed gravelly, and you tried to act like he wasn't comparing a steak to someone's vagina.
The same man nudged Bill, this time a little harder and more serious than last time. "Sorry 'bout him. I'll do the medallions" You nodded at him as you wrote down his order, murmuring how it was alright. The other men just started to throw their orders out there, placing their menus down in the middle once you had their request scribbled down. You gathered all the menus and dropped them off to the front, exhaling as you made your way to the kitchen in order to get your tables food started.
As you pushed the door open, you groaned when you saw how chaotically busy it was getting, loud chattering and banging filling the space. Orders were lined up and quickly being pushed out, some of the other waiters brushing past with their own trays of food in hand. Glancing around for someone, you awkwardly handed off the papers to the nearest chef. Getting ready to exit out the kitchen, feeling as though you were in the way the sound of applause rang out from the front, and all movement around seem to freeze for split second. You all looked around at each other, mirroring faces of confusion before Tyler came barreling through the doors.
"Norman fucking Reedus just fucking walked in and I swear on everythin' I love I'm gon’ go absloutely mad" She rambled, bouncing with energy.
“I thought he wasn’t supposed to come til tomorrow?” The head chef spoke, rising a brow from where he was manning a large grill.
Tyler rolled her eyes, charging towards rhe back office. “Who cares? He’s here now ‘nd I need ta’ make sure I look good!” She got about halfway, before turning back around grabbing you by the wrist, resuming her mission to the office.
Inside, she shuffled over to hee stuff, digging through a backpack and pulling out a makeup bag, plopping down in a seat and pulling up the lens of her phone. “So what’s the big deal?”
“Wha’s tha’ big deal?” Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, staring at you in shock and a bit of horror. “Oh, nothin’, jus’ tha’ he’s tha’ sexiest guy in Hollywood”
You scoffed at her, “Sexy ain’t nothing if he’s shit in the sheets” shaking your head.
Tyler groaned, curling her lashes carefully. “Ya’ don’ even know wha’ yer talkin’ ‘bout. He’s a munch, certifiable”
“Psh. I’ll believe that when I see it.” You say, turning to walk out the office and get a look at this guy for yourself.
“Wait!” Tyler held out her hand, rising to her feet. “Yer not leavin’ without a little touchup. One of us is gettin’ lucky tonight and it’s gon’ be me. If ya’ fuck him, I want all them details” She spoke as she maneuvered you to sit in the chair, tilting your your head up and insecpting your face.
“If I do fuck him it’ll just be so I can get ahold of his wallet” You murmur, closing your eyes as she dusted the lids of them with glitter, brushing some down the bridge of your nose. “Well ya’ better share some with me” She pinched your nose, and you swatted playfully at her, smirking. “I’ll think about it”
She swipes a glossy layer of gloss over your lips, before her own, tossing the contents of her makeup back into the bag and the bag back into her backpack. The kitchen has returned to loud clamoring and pots and pans being banged together, servers dashing in and out with their orders.
Nearby by, the food for your first table was waiting patiently for you, and you gasped softly. “Oh wow this stuff actually looks really good!”
Tyler held out the dish tray for you, again, holding it with both hands and verbally helping you to cram all four dishes on there, the flatbread being a long and awkward dish. “The salmon is super good. I probably done’ forced the kitchen ta’ make it fer m’bout a hundred times now” She laughed as she spoke, gingerly handing off the the tray to you. “Don’ drop nothin’”
“Now why would you even say that?” You roll your eyes at her, and lightly kick her shin, turning on your heel quickly to walk out the kitchen when she frowned your actions.
You pushed the door open with your hip and walked back out into the busy dining area, a smile on your face as you approached the family with their food, placing the tray down on the table so you could hand out their plates easily. The mother helped by taking her flatbread off, humming as she made sure it was exactly what she had wanted. “Could I get anything else for you folks tonight?” You politely asked, sliding the tray off the table and back under your arm. “Nope! Thank you, you’ve been so kind and helpful” The woman smiled back at you, and you slightly bowed your head before leaving them to their meal.
“I should be back with you guys food as well. Another round while we wait?” You stopped by the mens table, observing their almost empty mugs and giving a thumbs up at their rowdy agreement. “And my apologies for the wait. At least you had plenty of menu looking time right?” You joked lightly as you finally approached your third table for the night, a small group of friends who seemed like easy people to deal with.
“Ahaha, not much. We were pretty hung up on drinks. I think we’re all gonna try the Bloody Nicotero” One of the women spoke, glancing around the table for her friends confirmations. They all nodded in agreement, and another girl requested for a cup of water. “Would you like table water? For all of you!” They nodded, and you scribbled down the few drinks. “I’ll be right back with those” You smile at them, and as soon as you walk out the section it totally drops.
“Hey, muscle man!” You called out to him, leaning over the bartop. He eyed you from the side, finishing the drink he was currently pouring before moving over to you, a brow raised. “I have a name y’know” He pointed to the tag, but you ignored him, raising your own finger and pointing to the group’s order. “What the hell is a bloody Nekot… Nickote- Tar?-“
“Nicotero. And it really packs a punch” A man spoke suddenly from behind you, making you instinctively jump with your hands raised. “My God! Didn’t your momma teach you not to walk up behind people?” You huffed and put a hand over your thumping heart, turning back to the bartender to promptly ignore the asshole behind you.
“So like I was saying- What? Why’re you looking like that?” You glance at his stun face, and turn back to the man behind you, a curious smile tugging his lips. “Are you Nicotero?” You quirk a brow, and the bartender sputters.
The man lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head which made his wavy curls bounce. His hair was fair dark and stopped at his shoulders, his bangs attractively pushed back by a pair of sunglasses. He was pretty tall, and very well built, eyes lingering on his musclar arms longer than they should’ve. Your eyes flickered down to the skull inked on his hand, and then back up to his face.
“Nope. Nicotero is the other guy. I’m just Norman” His voice was smooth and rich, but not quite deep. It had a light and airy feel to it, very gentle on the ears.
Norman. Norman… “Reedus?” He nodded. Oh, well, shit. “Don’ know if you were aware of this pretty girl but I own this place” He spoke casually and easily.
“I wasn’t actually. I’ve only lived here for a week” You told him, watching as the bartender busied himself with your group’s drinks, as well as the men’s beers. “And this is my first day working here, and right now you, Norman, are being a distraction”
He raised a bow, smile only growing across his lips as he spoke. “That’s just what I do best darling”
You placed the tray down on the bartop and assist the man in fitting both the bloodies and waters onto the platter, slowly and very carefully picking it up.
Norman stepped out your way, and as you shuffled past him you stopped to whisper in his ear. “I feel like there’s a lot else you do best” You murmured, flirtatiously winking and walking into your section, greeting the friend group with a smile.
“Got your drinks here folks, heard these things knock your socks off so good luck” You joke as you hand out straws, clicking your pen and flipping through your notepad. “Is everyone ready to order?” You press the tip of the pen into the paper, writing down the first order shouted out and going down the line. There was a simple mix of burgers and salads, a few people had special requests on how they wanted their food to be which you wrote underneath, small but big at the same time.
You collected their menus, letting them know you'd have their food out shortly and whisking away, dropping the menus off at the front and walking quickly to the kitchen, glancing at Javi who seemed to be conversing with Norman. You pushed the door open and huffed a sigh of relief when the men's food was sitting there waiting. Placing the tray down, you loaded the plates on the best you could, having to carry two of them out with your other hand, balancing one on your forearm.
Another waitress saw you as she entered the kitchen, and she politely held the door open for you, nodding as you thanked her on your way out.
"Not gonna drop that are you?" Javi questioned when you walked back past, causing Norman to turn and glance at you.
You continue walking away, a smirk pulling your lips. "Not if you stop talking" The feeling of eyes lingering on your back makes a chill run up your spine, and part of you swears that you can feel butterflies in your stomach.
The men see you approaching their table, and at first, they start cheering but quiet down when they realize you were balancing heavy plates, resuming their celebration once the food is safely placed on the table. You call out the names of dishes to find their rightful owner, watching the men grab their plates and eagerly start eating, satisfied groans sounding from the table. With that, you left them to eat and returned back to the family, who was chatting amongst themselves and seemed finished with their food, most of it half eaten.
"Would you guys like some to-go boxes?" You smile, and the mother nods, "Yes please, and you can bring the tab as well," mirroring the kind smile you gave her.
You informed her you'd be right back with that, quickly walking out of the section and to the kitchen, glancing around. "Where's Tyler?" You asked a nearby chef, and he furrowed his brows, tilting his head in confusion. You repeated your question, a little louder this time, and he made an 'O' face, pointing to the office. You thanked him, and made your way back there, knocking before creaking the door open.
"What are you doing?" You stare at her, sitting in the chair with a tall cup and her phone in her hand. "Wha'? I needed my coffee" She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Talk to my beloved husband yet?" You rolled your eyes at that, stepping inside the office, but catching yourself. "Wait! Uh, my first table is ready to pay"
"Oh!" Tyler kicked herself off the chair, stretching and taking another sip of her caffeine. "C'mere, lemme show ya'" She said as she ushered you out. She led you through the kitchen, bringing you to a section behind the door you hadn't even noticed was there.
There was a computer with a list of waiters and waitresses on them, table numbers as well as totals on it. You spotted your name, and read the first tables total, which actually wasn't a bad price at all. "Jus' click tha', and then the huge print button" Tyler pointed, tapping the screen as she explained. The machine behind the computer whizzed to life, printing out a receipt. "They want boxes?" She questioned and you nodded, watching as she reached her hand down and pulled four to-go boxes out. You took them from her silently, blinking as if she had just performed a magic trick.
Tyler tore the receipt out of the machine, clicking her pen and scribbling something down. As she did, the machine began to print once again, and Tyler pulled out a slim booklet from underneath. "It prints twice 'cause tha' second receipt is tha' one tha' customer signs" She said as she took the paper out the machine, sticking it into the booklet, and handing it to you.
You took it from her with a smile. "Thanks. I did talk to Norman, and he's alright. Nothing too special" She gawked at your words, and started to playfully smack you with her hands. "Ugh! Ya' don' know wha' yer yappin' 'bout! Tha' man will change yer life" She harped, voice fading as you walked out the kitchen, lips stuck in a smile as you brought over your first tab of the night.
The rest of your shift went by with a breeze, the number of people coming in was now lessening and coming in pairs of two and four. It wasn't as busy anymore, and the air around seemed to be less tense.
You only had about one more hour left before you were done, and had about two tables still waiting for their food. You were ecstatic that your first night had gone by without any mishaps or complaints, having received generous tips from all your tables throughout.
On your way back to the kitchen to check on your last few orders, you spotted Norman sitting alone at the bar with a small drink in hand as he seemed to do something on his phone. You aren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself quietly approaching from behind.
"Shouldn't you be riding away in a limo back to your mansion?" He jumped slightly at the sudden sound of your voice, turning towards you with a small smile. "Maybe, but I didn't wanna leave without getting to know you better" You raised a brow at that. "Seriously? I'm just a waitress. Shouldn't you be like screwing around with models?"
Norman laughed at that, shaking his head a little. "Who's to say you aren't a model?"
"Well, aren't you just a real charmer" You giggled, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. "What? You wanna take me home or something?" You said jokingly, standing more off to his side now.
You observed the look on his face, soft, interested, yet so dark. His piercing blue eyes shamelessly raked over your figure, tongue darting out over his lips. "Yeah. I really do" He whispered, eyes landing on yours. "Can I?"
"Not very celeb-like taking home staff don't you think?" You hummed, taking his drink and downing the rest, a mix between whiskey and coke. "It would be quite unprofessional for you to take me to your house when I get off in thirty minutes, very unprofessional indeed" You sensually mumbled, tossing him a final cheeky glance before disappearing into the kitchen, almost sprinting to the back office to go find Tyler, giddy smile tugging your lips.
Staring at his now empty glass, head resting in his hand, Norman couldn't help the way his stomach flipped, excitement and anticipation building up as your words rang out in his head.
Thirty minutes had felt like a whole other hour, and you heaved a sigh of relief when you finally clocked out, purse slung over your shoulder and your sweater draped over yourself in a puny attempt to shield yourself from the cold.
Tyler had almost flipped the table over when you told her, jumping off the walls and excitedly shaking you, squealing as she rambled about all the things she thought were gonna happen, yelling that you needed to tell her every detail afterward. She even downright begged for you to get some pictures.
She had already left in her car to go home, slamming the digits of her number into your phone and pulling you into a tight hug, telling you to be safe and text her as soon as you got to your next destination, threatening to send out a search squad.
You stood outside, mindlessly rolling a rock under your foot and swiping through Insta, starting to wonder if a literal A-list celeb had just totally played in your face. Minutes went by and you started to feel a little offended, rightfully so, deciding to start making your way back home instead of waiting around like an idiot. As you were walking, you texted Tyler that you were leaving, that he had just left instead. Cars passed by and obviously none seemed to belong to someone who would own a restaurant. You scoffed, annoyed but not surprised.
As you rounded the corner to the street of your apartment building, you just so happened to crash into somebody smoking a cigarette, of coursing falling onto your ass like a dumbfuck.
"Damn, tryna run away from me gorgeous?" Norman's light voice sounded, and you blinked your eyes into focus. "Been looking for you" You grumbled as he easily lifted you off the ground, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Sorry. I get bored sitting still for too long" He shrugged, smiling cheekily at you. "Ready to go?"
"Go where? My house is right there" You shook your head, gesturing towards the building.
Norman waved his hand, dismissing you. "Nah. Gonna take you for a little ride. C'mon," He took a final pull, stubbing his cig out on the wall and motioning for you to follow him.
He led you back down the sidewalk and a little distance from the restaurant, making easy and light conversation. It felt like you had known him forever with the way he casually joked around with you, your heart fluttering a little each time he laughed.
He walked you over to a sleek and shiny motorcycle, standing on the other side of it with his hand held out, offering you some help with climbing onto the back of his bike. "A romantic bike ride? And here I thought you had ghosted me" You laughed when he himself straddled the bike, the engine roaring to life.
"Ghosted? Someone like you? Never doll" Norman chuckled over the rumble of his bike, kicking the stand out and rolling out the parking lot, glancing both ways for any passing cars.
You wrapped your arms around his middle when he started to pick up speed, turning off Senoia's main road and revving the engine, motorcycle quickly shooting forward. "Not so fast!" You gasp, tightening your hold. He laughed, patting one of your hands with his. You put your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the road, catching a strong whiff of his very expensive-smelling cologne, an exotic herbal smell that attracted you to him more, a heat shooting down to your core.
Norman caught a glimpse of your lust-filling eyes in his side mirror, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he knew he was in for a treat tonight, almost instinctively revving his engine again to speed up, but obeyed your request to not go too fast. He drove with the flow of traffic, listening to you awe over the lights and buildings. "Ever been to Atlanta?"
"Atlanta? Wh-why are we going there?" You stammered, taken aback since well, that was bit of a distance.
"Oh no doll, we aren't going. Yer just back there 'oh'ing and 'awe'ing I figured not" Norman chuckled, laughing when you smacked his shoulder. "Hold on, we're almost there" This time he revved his engine again, weaving between cars.
It made you feel like a teenager again, getting whisked away at night to some random guys house for an hour or two of fun, just to be dropped off somewhere unknown but close to home. It brought you back to your early twenties also, the years having been filled with nothing but hungover days and drunken nights, latching onto some poor guy who was willing to buy you every shot you down, likely in hopes of getting laid.
Sitting on the back of Norman’s bike however, something your gut told you this would be a little more than just a plain hook-up. Tyler’s words rang out in your head, and you couldn’t help but start to wonder if this really would change your life.
The traffic on the road dispersed as he drove further out, eventually turning down a quiet and dirt road.
“Whoa, I ain’t about to get murdered am I?” You joked, but you were really asking.
Norman chuckled, squeezing your hand and even looping his fingers through. “Nah. I’d take you out somewhere pretty”
“You wanna take me out or take me to bed?” You wiggled your fingers in his hold as a mock wiggle of the brows.
“Maybe I wanna do both”
Jesus, this man was something else.
The dirt road continued out for a couple of miles out, gravel and rocks crunching under the spinning tires of his bike. The road seemed to be hidden by a tall grassy field and towering trees, the only sound interrupting the peace being the rumble of Norman’s engine.
He made another turn, the tall field of grass seeming endlessly as he drove until you could barely make out what looked like houses at the top of a field. Shit, maybe he really was gonna murder you?
Norman revved the engine and the motorcycle picked up speeds, whipping the cool country air into your face and probably messing up your tied hair. The large houses came closer into view, huge properties with cars in driveways and lights on. The houses were scattered, your next-door neighbor being about five normal houses away.
Norman rolled down the street at a slower speed as to not disturb his neighbors, approaching a dark and gated house. The gates opened after the man pressed a few buttons on his phone, the outside lights of the home fading on and making it look more welcoming.
The gates closed behind the two of you when he rumbled onto the large driveway, lazily parking his bike right where he was.
This time you didn’t need any help, swinging yourself off the motorcycle and immediately tossing your arms up to stretch as you stared at the literal mansion you were about to walk into.
“C’mon. Did you get a chance to eat?” Norman placed a hand on your hip and led you to the front door, some fancy thumbprint technology letting him in.
“Not yet,” You smile softly as you enter the home, standing in the boxed-off foyer. “I got whisked away before I could escape back home”
“Well, I surely didn’t bring you here to starve you. Take your shoes off, I’ll mix something up” Norman said as he took his own shoes off, socked feet quiet against his wooden floors.
You toed off your own shoes next to his and followed, staring in awe at the midsized entrance. Two staircases descended on either side, leading to an equally large-looking upstairs with a small balcony.
Straight ahead, there was an opening that led out to the spacious main area, tall industrial windows covered the walls in the living room, paired with ceiling-to-floor navy blue curtains tied back so as to probably let in the earlier sunlight. The kitchen was big as well, with dark and wooden cabinets matched to grey ash-colored granite counters with specs of black obsidian throughout.
You had never seen such a gorgeous home, marveling at how clean it was. It had a luxurious feel while still being homely at the same time, a few paintings and sculptures hung up on the walls, sitting on table tops.
“This place is beautiful,” You said after taking a minute to fully appreciate the decor, resting your hip against the counter. “Do you live here?” You placed your purse down.
Norman laughed from somewhere, rounding a corner with an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey. “For the moment. I’m usually out in New York, but I have to be here for some work” You watched as he poured two glasses, handing you one a small smile.
You clinked the glasses together and both threw them back, the liquid burning your throat as well as your chest. “What do you do for work?” You said as you cleared your throat.
“Well right now we’re shooting,” Norman said casually, turning and opening the large fridge.
“A movie?” You question, pulling at the collar of your shirt.
The man chuckled slightly, “Do you have any ideaa who I am?” turning to you with a playful smile tugging his lips.
You scoffed, cheeks heating up a little bit because, well, “No, not really. My co-worker seemed to be a fan though”
“Oh really now? What’d she tell you?” Norman quipped, chopping and tossing the ingredients for what you could see was a really stuffed chicken salad.
“That you were the sexiest guy in Hollywood” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders from behind, watching his back muscles as he fixed the food.
“Well?” He said after a minute, and you realized you had zoned out. “What?”
Norman glanced at you, a dark look in his blue eyes. “Do you agree with her?”
You stared at him for a moment, before slowly approaching, stopping only a few centimeters short from him.
“Make me agree with her” You whispered, batting your lashes as you ran your finger up his arm.
Norman halted his movements, staring at you before his eyes flickered down to your lips, not hesitating to lean down and kiss them.
“Ya’ ain’t got no clue what you’re askin’ for, doll” He rasped, disregarding the half-made salad as he gripped your waist, lifting you off your feet and onto the island top, slotting himself between your legs as he moved to capture your lips in another kiss, this one way more eager and heated.
You moaned softly into his mouth as his hands caressed and fondled your waist, sliding down to your hips and pulling you closer against him, pressed his bulge into your clothed cunt.
He kissed you calculated yet sloppily, tongue swirling around in your mouth as his fingers slipped under your uniform. You hooked an arm around the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to where he groaned painfully. “Come on, impress me already”
“Whadd’ya want from me?” Norman started to kiss and lick your neck, but you yanked his head back by his hair, for starters yanking the pokey sunglasses off. “I wanna see what you’ve got, maybe like,” You trailed a hand down his chest, pushing him hard so he stumbled into the counter behind him. “What you’ve got in your pants?”
You kicked yourself off the island, pulling the hair ties out your hair and fluffing it out, dropping down to crawl over to Norman, evil smile taking over your lips as you scratched your nails down his denim jeans, mouthing and placing open mouth kisses over his straining cock.
Norman groaned above you, “Think ya can handle it?” a hand coming down and tangling into your hair.
“Can you handle it?” You retort, taking the zipper of his jeans between your teeth and unzipping them, popping the button open.
You tugged his boxers down, very unexpectedly getting smacked in the face by his cock, a good thick eight inches. His tip was red and leaky, the veins running along his shaft pulsating. You had been with your fair share of big guys, but Norman was quite impressive, your fingers stretching when you wrapped them around him.
You gave him a few experimental strokes, playfully looking up at him through your lashes as you run your tongue from his balls, all the way up to the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it and taking it into your mouth, sucking the salty pre-cum off.
Norman’s hips jerked slightly, a mumble of curses falling from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair. “M’not gonna be very nice to ya’ if you keep it up” He grunted, his face a little flushed.
“Didn’t want you to be nice in the place” You mused as you licked down the sides of his throbbing dick, smearing spit from your tongue as you went along. “Such a big cock but do you even know how to use it?”
Norman scoffed slightly, “Ya’ really don’t know who I am” rolling his hips when you took only his tip past your lips.
“Gonna show me?” You wiggled your butt a little, a surge of excitement coursing through you when rough hands gathered all your hair in one. “Yup, gon’ make you remember it too. Open that little bratty ass mouth wide” He tugged your head back, and you moaned, stretching open your lips as well curling your tongue inside your mouth.
Norman slowly slid himself inside, grunting at the warm wetness engulfing him as he leisurely rocked his hips, thrusting half his cock past your lips. There was an uncomfortable stretch the more he pushed in, a slight burning sensation as he worked himself in.
“I know this pretty throat can take a lot more, c’mon girl” Norman rasped, tilting your head further back and holding himself at his base, pushing in until his tip hit the back of your throat.
You relaxed your gag muscles, staring up at him innocently as you started to slide the head of his cock down, Norman letting out a thick hum as his grip in your hair tightened and his eyes fluttered, his hips jerking forward. He snapped the rest of his length suddenly down into your throat, a harsh grunt coming from him when your moan vibrated through him.
He pulled his hips back and sent them forward again, going smoothly back down in one thrust, repeating this action a few times. Norman watched how all his cock disappeared past your plush lips, nose nuzzled in his well-trimmed pubes before he pulls his hips back, leaving only the tip in before fully sliding right back down.
You squeezed your thighs together each time he plunged his cock into your mouth, eyes rolling shut as he started to increase his pace, only pulling himself out halfway now.
“Takin’ me so well gorgeous,” Norman said in a low, husky drawl. “S’like ya’ were made for this”
He was practically humping your face at this point, his own a bright shade of red as pants, and small gasps came from him, flat-out fucking your mouth. Each little noise that came from him made your cunt throb.
Speaking of throbbing, you could feel the way Norman’s cock was pulsating in your throat, deep and shaky grunts starting to come from him. His hips sped up, the sound of his balls slapping against your chin slightly echoing in the spaciousness, the soft gagging of his cock abusing your throat only heard between the two of you, followed soon by Norman’s heavy whimpers, grip on your hair impossibly tight.
His hips stuttered, cock twitching and spasming as he spilled deep inside your throat, trying your best to swallow but you sputtered around him, cum dribbling from the sides of your mouth.
Norman pulled himself out from your mouth, groaning softly at the cool air hitting his sloppy dick as it rested still painfully hard against your equally messy lips, gasping as you stared up at him.
“Impressed yet?” He raised a brow, out of breath himself.
You ran your tongue over your top lip, tasting his bitter release with a smile. “I thought you weren’t gonna be nice? I think you’re being quite boring if you ask me” You teasingly spoke.
Norman smirked, “Who said I was done? By the time m’done with ya’, your body will remember the shape of my cock” He said, snapping himself all the way back down into your throat, not wasting any time before he was fucking into it. He was still a little sensitive from his first orgasm, each bump of his tip pulling a husky whine from him.
It didn’t take long at all before he was already starting to get weak in the knees, each thrust feeling better than the last. He increased his pace, breathing picking up as small whimpers and gasps fell from his lips, a few final strokes before he was cumming down your throat, holding you flush against his navel as you swallowed the best you could.
He pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock on your tongue as he rutted against it, drawing out his orgasm until he was spent, cock softening when he pulled completely out.
You swallowed his load while staring right into his eyes, fluttering your lashes with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“Salad can wait. I wanna see wha’s hidin’ under this uniform” Norman said as he suddenly leaned down, scooping you up and tossing you over a sturdy shoulder, strong arm keeping you secure by your middle.
You let out a high yelp at the change in position, bouncing slightly as he trudged out of the kitchen, tugging at your pants as he climbed the stairs. He tossed them somewhere for you to hunt down in the morning, letting out a satisfied chuckle at your round backside, smacking a bubbly cheek. You giggled around a moan, especially when he firmly squeezed that cheek and spread it, helping himself to the view of your soaked panties, a dark red with black lace.
He pushed open a door to a huge and luxurious bedroom, the bed he dropped you on feeling like a cloud pulled straight out of the sky. Norman tore his shirt off, you doing the same as he dipped down, dragging his lips and teeth across your dark skin, sucking and biting as he explored your exposed collarbone.
You groaned and shamelessly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to feel his already-hardening cock against your wet heat. Norman seemed to have something different in mind.
“Wanna sit on my face, sweet girl?” He murmured into your ear, brushing curly hair out your face. “Did so well fer me, gotta return the favor”
“You don’t gotta ask me twice,” You said in a honeyed voice, using your legs to flip your positions.
Norman landed with a small sound, looking up at you as you rolled your hips down on where you had his cock trapped between your two bodies. His hands traveled up to your waist, caressing and fondling the deep skin.
You looked like a goddess straddling him, curly hair flowing everywhere and framing your upper half, Norman’s eyes flickering down to your black bra where your tits were practically spilling out. You crawled towards his face, dragging your core heat up his abs and pressing it on his chest, towering angelically above him.
“I hope you don’t disappoint me” You tease, lifting yourself up onto your knees as you stuff your panties to the side, heart racing a little.
Norman licked his lips, hands squeezing your hips as he watched you toy with your clit. “Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself” He whispered, tugging you towards him.
You lowered yourself down, Norman more so pulling you down onto his waiting tongue, licking a warm stripe up your aching cunt, a pleased moan coming from you as you gripped the headboard, rolling your hips.
He started at your clit, flattening his tongue and giving the puffy bundle of nerves multiple hard licks, waves of electricity shooting through all your limbs, down to your tightly curled toes. He took the small bud into his mouth, sucking hard and rubbing the tip of his tongue against the raw nerves, making you gasp and rut down onto him.
Norman seemed to be enjoying himself, soft groans of his own coming from him as he started to slide his tongue between your folds, teasing your entrance before swirling around your clit, repeating the action a few more times. He used his grip on your hips to steadily rock you back and forth in time with his deep licks.
Eventually, he slid his tongue all the way inside your hole, curling it as well as thrusting it in and out. “Mmm, fuck yes, keep using that fucking tongue in me” You were almost bouncing on his face at this point, passionately moaning as he curled the wet muscle into you, harshly licking as his nose bumped against your clitoris.
His hands encouraged your movements, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he plunged his tongue as deep into you as he could. His cock twitched and needily ached, hips slightly jerking upward into the air. You ground your clit down on the tip of his nose, body rolling as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.
Norman could feel you clenching around his tongue, deciding to speed up your nearing orgasm by suddenly slipping out you, replacing his nose on your clit for his tongue, and filling your back up with two thick fingers, blissfully curling right into your sweet spot. You moaned loudly as one of your hands tangled in his hair, gripping roughly. Your body trembled as he fingered you in time with his tongue, bone-crushing weight washing over you as your hole spasmed around his wiggling digits, grinding down on his tongue until you just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning as you could feel your used cunt leaking juices all over his hand and face.
You were both gasping for air when you lifted yourself onto wobbly knees, Norman’s fingers slipping out as you kept yourself steady by gripping the headboard with both hands.
“Are ya’ impressed now?” He asked, audibly out of breath as he licked your slick from his glistening lips.
You scoff, smiling down at him. “A little, but I’d like to get to the main course now,” You said, swinging a leg and crawling off from above him. “No more side dishes”
Norman watched as you discarded the drenched pair of panties somewhere in the room, landing on the wooden floor with a small slap. You yanked your socks up, taking a needed second to ball them together before tossing them as well, starting to grab at Norman’s unbuttoned pants.
He helped kick them off, murmuring to you as he tugged his own socks off. “Forgot ta’ take yer bra doll”
“That’s your job, mister famous” You chuckle as he comes up behind you, hands exploring your bare melanin skin as they run up your sides, climbing and cupping your breast, circling to your back to unclasp the bra hooks. He threw the final piece of garment onto the floor, pulling you flush against his front.
He started sucking on your neck, one of his hands fondling your tit while the other snaked down to toy with your puffy clit. He rubbed his cock between your cheek, biting and licking his way to your shoulder. He pinched and rolled your nipple with his fingers, trailing his lips up the side of your neck and nibbling on your pulse.
You moaned softly when his hand dropped your tit, coming up to brush your hair out the way, gathering it in a tight but gentle grip as he tugged your head back onto his shoulder, dragging his tongue across your newly exposed throat, up the underside of your jaw till he reached your lips, capturing them in his.
Norman’s cock twitched against you when your hand joined the one still fingering your clit, scratching his skin with your nails gingerly as he slowly kissed you, deep and lustful. You blindly reached your hand behind yourself and felt around for his dick, a small grunt coming from him when your fingers grazed his tip. “Ya’ ready fer me?” He murmured against your lips.
“Been ready since I got here” You sass, dropping down onto your elbows with round hips in the air. “You better fuck me like you mean it”
A hand landed on your ass, Norman’s other still holding up your hair, grip a little tighter now as he burned the image of your arch into his head, the hand he spanked you with spreading your cheek, thumbing your pussy as he pressed his tip to your entrance, greedily sucking him in.
He was big, but you were so wet and dripping to the point he just completely slid in, unrestrained groan coming out his chest as his entire cock was swallowed up and wrapped in your squishy walls, almost immediately starting to find a rhythm with his hips.
Norman’s fingers curled into the fat flesh of your ass, “Takin’ all of m’so goddamn well baby girl, could fuck this pussy for fuckin’ days” spreading you apart so he could watch the way his cock was sliding into you and blissfully stretching you open.
“Pound me already, I thought you were gonna be a meanie tonight” You drawl as you roll your head from side to side, pushing back needily against him.
He gripped your hair at the roots suddenly, yanking it roughly to pull you up onto your arms, almost pulling himself all the way out before slamming right into a sensitive bundle of nerves, mewl of pleasure racking your body as he started to relentlessly and mercilessly thrust into your body, so deep that you thought he was actually in your stomach for a moment.
You gasped and sputtered as he pulled you back by your hair in time with his harsh hips, huffing as he started to fuck you with all his strength. Each slam of his hips sent his cock flying into your cervix, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. “Got real quiet all of a sudden girl. This wha’ ya’ want?”
Norman’s fingers were fisted in your hair, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated in the large room, bed quietly squeaking as he railed you, watching how each forward thrust of his hips made your ass bounce, a wet sound coming from where his balls slapped against your clit.
“Yes, Oh fuck yes,” You mewl, eyes rolling back as your toes curled. “Harder, I know you can fuck me so much harder” Norman groans at your words, yanking you back onto your knees flush against his front and wrapping a hand around your throat, dropping his grip in curly hair to tightly grip your hip, jamming the entirety of his cock into your body, poking spots you didn’t even know were there.
He quickly resumed his unforgiving pace, pounding into you so deep and so rough, you choked out small sobs with each hit of his tip, gasping as you started to lose air. It was everything Tyler told you it would be and more, dots starting to cloud your vision and prickle under your skin, clenching as you could feel each thrust send you further and further to the edge.
You can tell Norman can feel it too, resting his sweaty forehead against your shoulder as he starts to lose rhythm slightly, pace not faltering as his cock twitches inside you, so tight and hot, your cunt squeezing his full dick like never before. It made Norman’s head fuzzy and a little dizzy, fueling the buzz he had from the earlier alcohol, though he only had about maybe three drinks total tonight. He was purely drunk off your body, letting out a soft whimper as he throbbed, on the verge of his orgasm.
“Feels so good, don’ wanna pull out of ya’…” Norman mumbled as he rocked himself into you, grunting when his tip nudged against your cervix. “Might just hafta’ stuff ya’ beautiful”
You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, his grip around your throat loosening as you cheekily smiled. “Yes please, let’s make a mess” Norman mirrored your expression before reaching down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours.
He pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip in before sliding all the way back inside, hungrily groaning into your mouth as he repeated the action, downright stroking his cock using your cunt. "Jus' gonna let me to fill this pretty pussy? Pump you full of all my cum?" Norman groaned, increasing his pace as his hot mouth landed on your neck, his teeth and beard scraping the skin as he continued his deep strokes, still pounding blissfully into you.
"God yes, give it all to me" You moan, rough fingers coming back up to your hair. Norman forcefully pinned your upper half down into the fluffy sheets, his other hand firmly gripping your ass as he fucked into you like an animal, shoving his whole dick into your cunt from tip to base. You let out a high keen with every unforgiving thrust, each one sending you a little closer to the edge.
Norman huskily panted, whimpering a little as he sped up, this time pulling you back onto his cock to meet his hips as he started to really fuck you, now railing into you with all his strength. Uncontrolled whines came from you, eyes rolling as his hand tightly gripped your scalp, each loud slap of his pelvis against your backside sent you lurching forward, only to be yanked back by the fistful of curly hair.
Your walls were practically milking his cock, so warm and wet around him, greedily sucking him in with every thrust, squeezing the entirety of his length as he increased his pace even more, letting out unrestrained gasps and grunts as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm. “Fuck m’gonna fuckin’ cum” Norman chokes out, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he groaned with each hot drag of your cunt, cock twitching and throbbing inside you as he fucked himself closer and closer over the edge. “Jus’ keep fuckin’ takin’ me doll, takin’ me so damn well”
His words made you tighten up around him, and it was all he need to fly off the handle, tossing his head back as his hips sputtered, cock slipping out of your stretched hole with an audible pop, Norman softly groaning as he came all over your twitching pussy, suddenly pushing himself inside and letting out a loud, shaky whimper, fingers curling in your hair as he started to fuck into you again, followed by the filthy squleching of Norman’s cock sliding into your ruined cunt, his cum becoming a creamy mess were it was being pushed in and out, dribbling down your folds to your clit where his balls slapped lewdly against.
“So fucking good for me, ya’ve got such a perfect pussy ‘could fuck you all day” Norman purred, dipping his head down to latch onto the skin of your already marked shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh and shuddering when he seemed to slip impossibly deeper into you. His hand fell from your hair, both palms falling firmly on either side of your head. "Feels like a goddamn dream" He snapped forward, breathing hot in your ear and gently nibbling on it. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, helpless gasps falling from you with each drag of his cock, feeling the throbbing veins which each thrust.
Your nails curled into his skin, eyes fluttering shut as your second orgasm built rapidly in your gut, whines of pleasure spilling past your lips. You couldn't even speak, each hard snap of his hips knocking the words straight out your chest. Norman roughly groaned in your ear, hotly kissing and licking at your bare shoulder. You were both so close, it only fueled his animalistic pace as he sped up.
Norman fisted the comforter in his hands, the skin tingling and raw from where you dug into it, little half-crescents decorating the back of his hand, and puffy lines sprouting blood on his arm, sweet sobs coming from you with every jab of his cock. Norman buried his sweaty face into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting the skin, his beard scratchy as he trailed his lips up to your pounding pulse. A breathy, shaky whimper came from him as he stuttered in his movements, pressing himself deep as he spilled into you for the second time, capturing your kiss in a greedy and heated kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as he drew out your shared orgasm.
When he pulled out with a slick pop, softly humming as the cold air hit his cock, you were both thoroughly fucked and completely worn out, panting heavily with Norman still halfway on top of you.
“Are ya' impressed yet?” He huffed out, a smirk forming on his face as he tugged your head back.
With a deep exhale and a small smile playing on your lips, you looked over at him with heavy, satisfied eyes. "I guess I am"
。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
Okay, I absolutely LOVED writing this request. It practically consumed my life lol. I would definitely be open to more reqs like this where there’s a little bit of a plot, even though I already have so many that are unanswered 🥲🥲🥲
I was really nervous about posting this because I’m just not a fan of the ending but at this point all I can do is hope for the best
THAT BEING SAID If people are also interested in sending in more Norman requests… 🥶🧏🏾♀️ y’know where to hmu babe
ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY FAV POOKIE TYLER WHO DIDNT EVEN KNOW I WAS USING HER AS A WAITRESS I LOOVE YOOU BABYGIRL MY OLDER SISSY FR 😝
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★
#norman fucking reedus#norman reedus#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl fanfiction#daryl dixon#daryl x female reader#daryl x black reader#black reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixion smut#twd daryl dixon#daryl twd#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon smut#twd#daryl imagines#daryl x you
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I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Two
Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader
a/n: Hi guys! Back with chapter two!! Thank you for all the love last chapter! You guys are too sweet! I hope you like this chapter as well, although we get a little angsty in this one oops. Also author note at the end!
Word count: 5k.
Find: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4
Enjoy!
December 17, 1970. Still.
Paul Hunham didn’t think his luck could get any worse but then that moron at the Janie Patrick's Girl School had to go make his problems, his. Then at the young lady’s arrival Angus Tully practically had hearts popping out his eyes like those cartoon characters on TV. That would be an issue. An issue he had to deal with at once.
As the boys grumbled and moaned on their way to the infirmary, as if they were the Athenians sent to march to Marathon in 490 BC, he made his way to the kitchen, looking for a certain cook.
“Hello, Mary,” he greets. She sits at her desk with a cigarette between two fingers, writing something down in her notebook.
“Mr. Hunham. I heard you got stuck with babysitting duty this year. How’d you manage that?” Her tone tiptoes on the edge of teasing.
“Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I failed someone who richly deserved it.”
“The Osgood kid? Yeah, he was a real asshole. Rich and dumb. Popular combination around here.”
“It’s a plague. Uh, and you? You’ll be here, too?” God, he hopes she is. He doesn’t think he will be able to survive as the only adult on the school grounds.
To his relief she nods her head, “All by my lonesome. My little sister Peggy and her husband invited me to go visit them in Roxbury, but I feel like it’s too soon. Like Curtis will think that I’m abandoning him, you know. This is the last place my baby and I were together, not including the bus station.”
Paul pursues his lips, unsure of what to say. “Well, maybe you won't be completely alone. How would you feel about letting a female student sleep in the staff common room? We could push some couches together, I'm sure. Make a nice bed that way.”
“Female student? What do you mean?”
“I’m unsure about the exact details, but I have been entrusted by the idiots across the lake with taking care of one of their students.”
“Ahh,” Mary is beginning to understand.
He nods, “Her name is Y/n L/n, I think she and Tully are in cahoots somehow. You should've seen the way he looked at her.”
“Oh no, don't do that though. You can’t have that poor girl sleep on a lumpy couch all break. She needs a bed.”
“I just want this whole ordeal to go smoothly. If I can keep those two as far away as possible, I believe all will be well.”
“Please that Tully boy wouldn't try anything. Sometimes he is the only one to say thank you when we place the food down on the lunch tables.”
Paul mulls it over for a second. “I suppose I could give it a try. Not that I think it is wise.”
Mary smiles slightly, “I know those kids are hard to handle but hold out hope for them. Some trust too. It's not too late yet. Their brains are still moldable or whatever corny crap you teachers say.”
Paul smiles slightly, his attention pulled to the bottle of bourbon on her desk, “You mind if I uh…”
“You want some of that? All right.”
“Thank you.”
“You know this is a necessity,” Mary says as she pours the liquid into a mug for him.
“Oh yes,” for life, love, pain or the next two weeks. Paul understands too well.
…
“Put the bed farther away Angus,” you say, your arms on your hips and you watch him struggle to drag his bed closer to yours.
“Why? Do I smell or something?”
“It's already a stretch to think he might let us sleep in the same room, he's definitely not going to let your bed be that close to mine.”
Huffing he begins to scoot it back to its original place, “Fine.”
Music has started blaring loudly from where Teddy and Jason are bunking in. Park and Ollerman are minding their business in their own space. You are across, what you think will be the place Mr. Hunham will stay in. Your hope is that him having an accessible view will make him more lenient towards you and Angus, despite his earlier warning of having you be on your own.
You situate your lavender near the window and begin to unpack your things. Angus does the same and you can hear his rustling get faster.
“What's wrong?” You ask.
“My…” He trails off. Suddenly he storms off like a man on a mission. You ignore the magazine you were flipping through and let it fall on the floor as you get up to follow him.
You see him head directly towards Kountze. “Where’s my photo?”
“What photo?”
“I think you know what photo, and you stole it.”
“I resent that baseless accusation.”
“Give me my goddamn picture!” Angus shouts.
“Hey man, if you took the photo just give it back,” you plead exasperatedly to Teddy, already tired of his whole innocent act.
“Stay out of it Y/n, it's alright,” Angus assures you and you move back to lean against the doorway. You sort of hope Angus socks him.
Kountze leaps to his feet and stalks towards him, “You need your girlfriend to defend you now? Seriously, what's your problem, Tully? Homesick? Maybe the little boy misses his mommy?”
“Fuck you, Kountze. Leave her out of it. And hey, why are you even here anyway? Where’s your family?”
“We’re renovating our house. It’s all torn up. They’re storing the tools and stuff in my room.” “That’s what they told you? It’s winter, idiot. Nobody renovates their house in the winter. Your parents don’t want you around because you’re a fucking insecure sociopath.”
“Hey, take it easy, guys.”
You can see Angus getting angrier. His shoulders are tense and in a last ditch effort you go up to him and whisper in his ear, “Punch him later. In private. Hunham won’t even hear our reasoning for rooming together. He’ll punish you by punishing me.”
Misery loves company, right? That was the saying at least. In your mind, suffering with Angus was better than the alternative. You didn’t want to spend these two weeks inside a glass case. From what you had seen, Hunham would have no problem in making you sit at your own lunch table or study in a separate classroom. You know that is what Ms. Orchard would have done if she was forced to take in the boys. She would have locked you in your dorm and insisted it was because you would “distract” them.
You can see the gears turning in Angus’s mind. He bites the inside of his cheek and finally nods before turning back to glare at Kountze. “You’re an asshole. I just needed you to know that.”
He turns around to retreat back to the room only to run straight into Mr. Hunhams chest. Angus leaps off and leans his back against the wall. Your own eyes widened, you hadn’t even heard the man's footsteps.
He surveys the room and notes all your disheveledness. Teddy's face looks flushed while Angus is still trying to control his heavy breathing. Everyone is completely silent and too scared to even make a move.
“What is going on here?”
“They weren’t fighting,” Alex squeaked. Mr. Hunham only seems to grow more suspicious. He shifted his sights to you and his eyebrow begins to raise, “They weren’t bothering you were they.”
“No. We were just talking,” you swallow the lump in your throat.
“What about?”
“Hmm?” You hum, straightening up.
“What were you all discussing mere seconds before I barged in on what, I am sure, was a highly intellectual conversation.”
“Shocking Blue,” you blurt out and Hunham turns his head as if asking for clarification. “The band that was on the radio.”
“Yeah, we love Shocking Blue,” Angus nods. The rest of the boys chime in, faking their agreement.
“They’re so good.”
“I listen to them all the time.”
Mr. Hunham continues to look unconvinced. Without a word he walks out, and you all collectively let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, you all stare at each other with giddiness. Like when you're a kid and get away with stealing a cookie from the cooling tray. You let yourself relax but shrivel back up upon the echo of Mr. Hunham's haunting voice, “Mr. Tully, Ms. L/n, in here. NOW.”
You frown, gazing up at Angus, “I think he found the room.”
…
After a stern talking to, Mr. Hunham begrudgingly agreed to let you and Angus sleep in the same room. He took a string of jingle bells that hung from a nearby Christmas decoration and tied it around Angus’s bedpost so that if he dared to move, he would hear it. You two were just fine with that.
Later you were escorted to the large dining hall. Mr. Hunham sat at the head of the table as the rest of you indulged in mindless chatter. You and Angus were on your third round of rock, paper, scissors, competing for nothing, when a lady came in to set down a platter of chicken, potatoes and asparagus.
“Lovely. Thank you, Mary.” the older man says.
You wait for the initial rush of grubby hands and pushing elbows to pass before you serve yourself, when you find that Angus already did it for you. He sets down the plate in front of you and then gets himself a serving of the green vegetable on his own dish.
“Didn’t we already have this for lunch?” Jason asks.
“And it was crappy then,” Teddy says through his eager chewing. You gag at the scene.
“Consider yourselves lucky. During the third Punic campaign, 149-146 B.C., the Romans laid siege to Carthage for three entire years. By the time it ended, the Carthaginians were reduced to eating sand and drinking their own urine. Hence the term punitive.”
The woman from earlier, that you now know is Mary, returns with some water. You give her a passing smile which she returns.
“Mary, maybe you’d, um, maybe you would care to join us,” Hunham stumbles through his words.
Kountze looks up from his food then glances at you with alarm. Like he can't fathom the idea of sitting with the cook.
You think Mary can sense his disdain when you notice her demeanor sour after a glimpse in his direction. “No, I’m all right. Thank you.” She escapes through the kitchen doors.
Teddy pipes up, “I mean, I know she’s sad about her son and everything, but still, she’s getting paid to do a job. And she should do it well, right?”
The chewing and scraping of silverware halts. You and Angus gauge each other's reaction, both of you completely shocked and slightly horrified. That boy for some reason just never knows when to shut up and continues, “But I guess no matter how bad a cook she is, now they can never fire her.”
“Will you shut up!” Mr. Hunham yells loud enough for you to flinch. He slams his fork and knife down. “You have no idea what that woman has… For most people, Mr. Kountze, life is like a henhouse ladder -- shitty and short. You were born lucky. Maybe someday you entitled little degenerates will appreciate that. If you don’t, I feel sorry for you, and we will not have done our jobs. Now eat!”
…
You're on your bed and catching up on some reading and soaking in the orange hue that the bedside lamp offers you. The boys are still getting ready for bed, and you were graciously offered the first shift in the showers. You’re waiting for your hair to dry when Angus walks in with his pajamas on, and a towel draped over his shoulders.
“You look very dapper,” You smirk.
“Thank you,” he plops down into his mattress. “You think Walleye is still mad?”
“Probably. I don’t blame him.”
“It made for a pretty awkward evening though.”
“Not one of the worst dinners I ever had. I’d rather endure another night like this than any dinner with my parents.”
“Oh yeah,” he sighs, “Your parents... You never did tell me the reason why you’re here holding over.”
You shuffle around in your bed and bring your blanket up to your neck, “Doesn’t matter.”
“Come on, it's just me now. Tell me. I told you!”
“It's no big reason, just small ones. They didn’t specify. I didn’t want to go home. It's complicated.”
“Okay you just gave like four different excuses right there. What happened? Is it super embarrassing? Did they forget about you or something,” he laughs.
You wince at his words and pray that the world opens up and swallows you whole. Realization dawns on his face, “Oh shit. Did they?”
You nod solemnly and begin picking on the thread of the blanket, trying to make the threading come undone.
“How could they do that? The same assholes who always make a huge deal about RSVPs and invitations. Seriously?”
“It’s alright. I’ll live. I mean what would I have done if I was there? I’d be in my room and waiting for them to drag me out so they could introduce me to people. They’d act like doting parents, ditching me a second later to play blackjack with their friends.”
“I’m sorry. I wish you would have told me, we could’ve… I could have done something.”
You smile, “I didn’t tell you cause I know you. You would’ve cursed them out the minute you had hold of them. Anyways, maybe it was faith to get stranded at Barton.”
“Or bad luck,” he quips, “maybe the universe wants us to die of mundanity together.”
“Either or,” you grin. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let's go to bed.”
Angus nods and spreads his long limbs across the bed exaggeratingly before turning to face the wall. “Whatever you want. Goodnight, Y/n.”
“Goodnight,” you go to turn off the lamp, wondering if you're being paranoid in sensing something off in the way he says your name.
…
December 20, 1970
The last few days had been the same grueling routine. Mr. Hunham would wake you up with the banging of bedpans and you would groan and try to shove yourself deep into your pillows.
“All right, you fetid layabouts,” he would say, “It’s daylight in the swamp. Arise!”
In the quad you were all forced to run laps. You hadn’t anticipated doing exercise, so you were forced to wear some joggers from the lost and found. You had been able to convince him that walking would be better suited for you and your imaginary cramps. His face had completely paled, and he hadn’t even let you finish speaking when he said you walking would be just fine. Men and their immaturity, you think.
When Angus and the rest of the boys would pass by you, he would glare jokingly at you while you would stick your tongue out and wave him goodbye as he flew past you.
During study hall, you would read some more and ignore the ongoing feud between Kountze and Angus. In the span of the last few days, you must have read three entire books. There was a lot of downtime in between recreational time with Mr. Hunham and dinner.
Today you had all decided to walk along the river. You can hear the church bells in the distance signaling the fact that it is the afternoon. Angus is swinging around a branch while Teddy and Jason pass around a football. You steer clear of both. You walk in sync with Alex and Ye-Joon. You’ve taken a liking to them. They remind you of the little sibling you always wanted but never got.
“What about your car?” Angus suggests, “We could take it, go somewhere. Boston maybe.” Jason shakes his head, “Nah, we’d get in so much trouble. Face it. We’re stuck.”
“If we just had some way to get out of here. Just split,” Angus kicks a pile of snow.
“Well, you could put a chopper down right in the Quad.”
“A what?”
“A helicopter, dumb ass,” Teddy snaps, “His old man’s CEO of Pratt & Whitney.”
“Got his own bird,” Jason confirms, “Takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our backyard. Pilot’s name, Wild Bill.”
“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon awes.
“Yeah. Flew up to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me,” he shrugs.
“Flying with presents, like Santa Claus,” Alex comments with glee.
“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”
Jason whistles and tilts his head for Teddy to “go long.” They play catch, getting farther from the group as they go.
“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar,” Alex reminisces. You smile sadly at the boy.
“That sounds so nice,” Ye-Joon agrees.
Kountze runs back suddenly and grabs one of Alex’s gloves and throws it into the river.
“What's wrong with you?” You intervene.
“Hey!” Alex says simultaneously.
“That’s what you get for ratting me out, little Mormon,” Teddy laughs, not an ounce of regret at what he just did. You tap Angus’s shoulder as you go trailing after the young boy, “I’m going to go help.”
“It’s gone! My glove’s gone!” Ollerman shouts. You continue searching for it through the clearing.
“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose. Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more,” Angus shouts back.
Ollerman looks to be on the verge of tears. He stares down at his hands and starts walking down a snowy ramp. He throws the other glove before you can do anything to stop it. He watches it disappear downstream as you make your own way down.
“Did your mother make you that?”
He nods. “It’s alright. I know where he keeps his wallet. We’ll steal it and buy a new one.”
You manage to bring out a muffled laugh from him. You consider it a win.
…
Angus wakes up in the middle of the night to see you knitting. He gets up from the bed to see your progress.
“Oh hello, grandma,” he scoffs. “When did you learn to do that?”
“Girl scouts before I quit. You guys had a bunch of yarn just rotting behind your auditorium stage. Did you know that?”
“No? Are you making that for the kid?”
“Yeah, I feel bad.”
“That looks like crap,” Angus chuckles as he messes around with the gloves fingers. You swat his hand away.
“I never said I earned the badge. Besides, it's the thought that counts.”
“I’m going to get a glass of water. You want some?”
“No thanks.”
Angus leaves the room, only to return a couple seconds later.
“Ye-Joon is crying,” he whispers. You furrow your eyebrows and get up to follow him. His cries become louder, and you turn the corner to see the poor boy shivering.
“Are you all right?” You ask.
“I had a nightmare,” You crouch down so you can hear him better.
“Don’t worry we get nightmares too. Right Angus?”
“Yeah, I’m always falling. Or drowning.”
“Also, I had an accident,” he weeps.
You motion for Angus to check. He doesn't have to look far.
“Yeah, you did. Shhh. Stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”
“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends,” he sobs full-on. You hush him gently.
“You have plenty of time to make friends. You’re like a freshman, right? I would start worrying when you're fifty and living vicariously through your kids.”
“Yeah man. You could have a thousand friends and not like any of them. What would be the point of having them then,” Angus adds.
“We’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right?” You wipe his tears with a tissue from a Kleenex box nearby. “Find a dry spot and try to get some sleep.”
“Thank you,” Park smiles consoled. Before going back to bed you ask him one last thing, “Hey do you like gloves?”
Ye-Joon gives you a quizzical look. …
December 22, 1970
Once again, you’re all studying in silence in a fancy room with portraits of dead white guys on the wall.
Mr. Hunham clears his throat loudly and Jason leans in to mutter in disgust, “Are you kidding me? It’s only eleven and he’s already lit. I can smell the whiskey on him.”
“Can you blame him? It’s freezing in here. It’s fucking Greenland in here,” Angus retorts.
From outside you hear the faint whirring of a machine. Not a car but something else. You all approach the window and spot the helicopter flying above the trees. It lands in the quad just like Jason had said it could. An older man steps out and he looks like one of the men you imagine roam Wall Street.
“He finally caved, the big softie!” Smith exclaims. He all but skips to the door and turns to you all, “Hey, any of you guys like to ski?”
You and Hunham stay behind as the rest go racing after him, filled with hope for what must be the first time in days. He goes to subdue the riot they make as they whoop down the hall, but you stop him by grabbing a hold of the end of his sleeve.
“Uh, sir? If Jason is inviting us, would you have to call our parents?”
“That would be proper protocol, yes.”
“Oh. Is there a way I could stay here then? I never cared for skiing and my parents would say no anyway.”
“Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I’d have to ask Woodrup about this first. Come on along,” he clears the path for you.
Grumbling, you find your way to the administrative offices. Hunham, Jason and his father shut themselves in a room. The boys along with Angus all try to listen in on the conversation by pressing their face as close as humanly possible against the glass. You watch from the sideline as Jason gives you guys a thumbs up. The hallway erupts in cheers and a minute later Mr. Hunham steps out with an announcement, “Gentlemen, good news. I was able to reach Dr. Woodrup and your parents. Most of them, anyway.”
Paul glances at Angus and you. Angus expression falters.
As the rest pack, you find refuge in your room. You can, however, hear Angus’s pleads.
“Try calling again. Just one more time. Please.”
“There’s no point. The desk clerk said no one’s answering. He says they’re away on some excursion.”
“Excursion,” he repeats.
Mr. Hunham scoffs, “I’m as disappointed as you are, if not more so. I could be spending the rest of my vacation reading mystery novels.”
“Maybe they’re back by now. Just call again.”
“Okay,” he gives in and marches down the corridor.
Ye-Joon had wished you goodbye a moment ago and now does the same for Angus, “Happy Holidays.”
“Same to you.”
“Take care, Tully.” Smith follows Park, giving him a pitiful pat on the arm.
You catch Alex as he is about to exit. You’ve wrapped the gloves you worked on endless last night in newspapers. “This is for you. Try not to get them stolen by Teddy again. I don’t think my fingers can handle another round of knitting.”
Ollerman smiles genuinely, giving you a hug you didn’t expect. You’re unable to return it as he has your stiff arms completely glued to your side. You follow him out, and Angus scowls in your direction.
“Why aren’t you more upset about this? That was our only way out and we blew it.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Did you really want to go skiing with Kountze that badly?”
“No, I wanted to get out of here badly. Your parents seriously didn’t answer either?”
“Um-.”
“Hey, you know what! Maybe Hunham can call them again and they can take us both in!”
“Angus no-,”
“Yeah, come on! Let's go ask,” he tugs at your hand to get you through the corridor.
“No Angus. I don’t want to.”
“What, why?”
You run your hand through your hair, “I asked Mr. Hunham not to ring them.”
“Wait. So, you didn’t even try to leave!”
“No! I thought I was clear the night we talked about why I didn’t want to go back to that house. If they answer they’ll pull the victim card and be all ‘I can’t believe you guys kept my child from me! Who do I sue?’ before coming to fetch me and berating me all the way back.”
“Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything because I could tell you were upset but you could have at least let them know for both our sakes. Then we could have spent the holidays in a hotel in Boston or something! We didn’t have to stay with them.”
“I knew you were off that night!” You curse the way you’ve managed to read him. “Anyways, with what money? To do what?”
“I don’t-, I don’t know… we could have figured it out.”
“I can’t believe you're getting mad at my decision.”
“It’s a pretty selfish one,” his eyes widened like he couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.
You gasp and hit him harshly at his side. “Ow!” he yelps.
“You’re being an asshole right now. I’ve never been madder at you in my entire life.”
“Really? What about that time I spilled mashed potatoes all over your dress? Your face was beet red,” he mocks.
You go to swat at him again only for him to dodge you. You try once more and fail, almost falling onto the floor but stopping yourself by putting your hand on the nearest wall. If you weren’t so angry this would have reminded you of the times you would wrestle when you were eight. Especially now and the way he holds you back by putting his hand on your forehead to keep you at arm's length. You give up with a huff and you b-line to your room.
“Tell Mr. Hunham I won't be at dinner tonight!”
You hear him groan behind the door you slammed shut and then the sound of his footsteps fading. In your solitude you collapse on the bed, letting out a scream into your pillow. Even though it's muffled, you hope Angus can feel it from where he is. That it reaches him and causes goosebumps to arise all over his stupidly long arms. …
You had skipped out on dinner like you said you would. Although Mr. Hunham had been polite enough to bring a plate down to the infirmary. As he handed it to you, he said lowly, “I’m not sure what that little deviant did, but I’m sure it's related to his foul mood and your absence tonight. Let me know if I can do anything.”
You almost wanted to cry at his politeness. Later he invited you to the kitchen common room and claimed there was a TV there. Considering you had only stared at words on a page for the last few days, you jumped at the offer. You saw Mary there and to your displeasure Angus had been forced to tag along so that Mr. Hunham could supervise him.
Your eyes were glued to the television, not letting Angus’s burning stare get the best of you. They were watching “The Newlywed Game” and drinking from mugs. It was not half-bad. In fact, it was starting to get pretty good to see these couples have their relationship crushed within a thirty-minute runtime with ad breaks in between.
The boy had begun throwing pieces of balled up paper at you and you picked them off your hair and tried your damnedest to not pay him any mind. You could hear him tear a new page from that magazine of his and finally you snapped at him. “Will you stop it? You’re wasting paper.”
“Thank God. You’re talking to me,” he stood straighter in his seat. “Here's the thing, I'm sorry. I should have never said that you were selfish. Cause you’re like, not. You’re honestly the most unselfish person I know.”
“I don’t want your apology right now. I’m watching TV.”
“I just got caught up in the moment is all. The truth is that-.”
“Angus, I said I don’t want to hear it!” You raised your voice loud enough to catch the attention of both Mr. Hunham and Mary.
“Everything alright back there?” Hunham takes the pipe out of his mouth to ask.
You get up, brushing invisible dust off your skirt. “Can I be excused. I’m pretty tired.”
“That’ll be fine.”
“Thank you,” You pick up your discarded book from the nearby coffee table before leaning down and whispering in Angus' ear, “Don't follow me.”
As you stomp away you hear Mary say, “We need to get those two onto this program. Win us a trip to Bermuda.”
Mr. Hunham lets out a suppressed chuckle, embracing it soon after along with Mary. You roll your eyes at the pair and their drunkenness. You’re comforted by the fact that they’ll have a big headache tomorrow. …
You’re shaken at a frantic rate. You went to sleep early but were awoken now by a mischievous looking Angus. He dangles a set of keys right in front of your face.
“What are you doing?” You squint under the harsh glare of the flashlight.
“Inviting you on a night of adventure. Walleye is completely blacked out. He won’t even notice us gone.”
“No thank you,” you turn away from him and drape your blanket over your head. He tugs it back down.
“Come on. Please?”
“I’m still not in the mood. Plus, now I’m tired.”
“Y/n,” he whines.
“If you find a cookie in a pantry somewhere you know what to do,” you murmur, already being lulled back to sleep by the warmth you feel under the covers.
“Y/n,” he says more seriously, “I am sorry.”
“I know,” you sigh. Maybe you had been too harsh. You prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’ll be better tomorrow. We will talk then.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He embraces you tightly in a hug. As he parts away, you two are face to face. You’re able to notice his eyes gleam under the light of the moon. You wonder when his eyes got to be that dark of a brown. Those same eyes flicker to your lips. You stare at him wearily as he clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He walks backwards to leave, his back bumping into a nearby lamp. “Shit. Sorry. Uh, goodnight. Bye.”
You were probably disorientated. Sleep deprived most definitely. Or maybe that secondhand smoke finally got to you. Surely you were just seeing things. Because surely, your best friend hadn’t just looked at you the way songs and books always seemed to describe love.
a/n: Thanks again for reading! Just to clarify some things, obviously Y/n knows about Angus’s dad, but just like in the movie, he doesn’t let it show how much it affects him. That’s why Y/n is unaware of why Boston is such a big deal. Anyways bye :)) until next time. Let me know your thoughts.
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. all my life i’ve dreamed of you.
about. you think that he was made for you. im in the mood for some fluffy husband!bakugou !!
warnings. none. sfw, fluff & gn!reader.
“i don’t mean to be corny,” you say late one night, nosing up the side of katsuki’s neck. “but i think i dreamt you up.”
it’s routine for the two of you to be up together for at least an hour before your husband drifts off — bakugou is old fashioned, he doesn’t believe in blue light and phone screens before bed so you’ll often catch him reading a book recommended by momo in the time leading up to his beauty sleep.
you’ll never understand how he manages to fall asleep upright, but for tonight you convince him to lay back with you in the sheets so you can nuzzle your face into his plush chest.
you feel his ruby gaze on you before you meet it — pulled away from the words in his book. “whaddya mean by that, gorgeous?” bakugou chuffs in amusement, a faint smile tugging on the corner of his lips while he shoves his thumb into the spine of his book to bookmark the page.
“when i was little, i dreamt of someone who loved me,” you start by choosing your words carefully — bakugou has always been a man spooked by love he doesn’t think he deserves and even after all this time together, he still has his doubts as to whether or not he believes you should waste an ounce of time on him. he’s come a long way since when you first started dating. but sometimes even the strongest of people need convincing of why they should get to be loved.
bakugou doesn’t run or flinch away, instead he stills his lungs locked away in his chest and waits with baited breath for the blow you might deal him. the doubts start to cloud his mind. “someone who cared for me the way that they do on tv, someone who adored me the way my grandpa loved my grandma…you get it.” you continue, drawing a heart on his stomach with invisible ink.
“yeah, i get it.” the blonde rasps apprehensively.
you push yourself up, bracing yourself on the tussled fabric on bakugou’s side of the bed to cage him in — glassy, tired eyes searching through the soul that swirls in his own. “what i’m trying to say, is that i’ve dreamt of moments like this all my life and now i’ve finally found the person to share it with. no one has ever loved me the way i wanted to be,” from this position you can see the faded constellation of barely there freckles that decorate bakugou’s skin. you see the war he lived and died through etched into worry lines and creases in his skin. you see it all and you love it all. perfectly imperfect just how you imagined it to be.
“not until i met you, kats. you’re the only person who’s loved me enough for me.”
the exhale your husband lets out expels the fear from his chest and replaces it with a glowing feeling — a happiness in the shade of warm toned yellows and oranges. it illuminates katsuki’s face, eases his stress lines and fills him with reassurance.
“i’ll love you enough f’the both of us. always.” he respond, folding a doggy-ear into the corner of the last-read page in his book. bakugou shoves it to the side and let’s his calloused hand cup the back of your neck — it’s weight reminding you of his presence, letting you know that he’s not going anywhere. katsuki is your dream and yours alone.
swooping down, you paint his lips with a feather light kiss and hum at the taste of minty fresh toothpaste intertwined with his promise of forever on them.
“you’ll have to let me give some of that love back,” you say, contentedly. “i need you to know how much of me still loves and dreams of you.”
꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou fluff#bakugou imagines#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki fluff#bakugo drabble#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha fluff#mha fluff#mha x reader#✧ ₊˚੭ — writing#tteokdoroki#✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted
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how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk
SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......
and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)
this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy
okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!
1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.
2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea
3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!
hehe :3c
4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.
5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!
and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c
6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this
7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves
7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.
8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.
a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.
9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼
10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.
will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.
11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.
i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.
12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O
and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....
13.
i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.
me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!
14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]
15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.
16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.
17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.
18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture
19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol
20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns
21.
obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.
also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS
but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!
and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼
and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P
#gw2#guild wars 2#my writing#for once i have nothing to say in the tags bc i already talked so much in the body of the post.#ummmmmmmm meows cutely !
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Kick It Out (Queen Maeve x Reader)
Summary: Maeve doesn’t date, for her own good and that of anyone she might be interested in. Teaching you how to kickbox definitely isn’t dating, even if the two of you do flirt every time you’re alone.
Note: Female reader with some references to being plus size, but not enough for me to designate the fic as such. No other descriptors are used. This takes place slightly before Homelander outed Maeve, but she still does a lot of internal shittalking about him. Hopefully I did well with her characterization because I’m already planning a follow-up. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Some references to homophobia Maeve’s experienced. Homelander vaguely threatens the reader to Maeve. Semi-public fingering, Maeve's kinda rough. Do not interact if you’re under 18.
It was a coincidence, really, when Maeve walked by Vought’s employee gym during one of the yoga sessions that was part of HR’s company wellness initiative. She’d forgotten Vought even had that, not interacting much with the corporation's rank and file on a regular basis and using The Seven’s exclusive gym to train. The employee gym was spacious, clean, and at that moment filled with dozens of Vought employees in a rainbow of athleticwear. Maeve could remember the old Jane Fonda workout tapes her mom used to put on in the mornings, how pleased she was with little Maggie’s rapt attention at the videos. You always need to keep your body moving, Maggie. It’s so important.
Her eyes scanned the group lazily until they landed on you in the middle of a stretch that made Maeve feel like that little girl staring at Jane Fonda in spandex all over again. She licked her lips, giving you a quick once over before anyone could notice. You would become target number one the moment Homelander got a whiff she was remotely interested in you. Her fists clenched at the thought of how he–and her own complacency–ruined her relationship with Elena. She couldn’t do that to you, not that she even knew your name, and she wouldn’t learn it if she could help it. She wasn’t that selfish.
At least, that’s what she thought, until somehow she kept running into you. An interview here, a briefing there, she wasn’t even sure what you did at Vought exactly. It didn’t matter. You clearly hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid, viewing your job as a way to pay the bills instead of the feverish devotion so many of its employees had. She started looking forward to seeing you, taking the opportunity to stand next to you when she could and exchange quips back and forth about how corny a promotion seemed or how weird the marketing team was.
Like clockwork, though, you’d be in the employee gym whenever the yoga classes were being held. She casually brought it up one day, asking if you were really that into yoga, or just taking advantage of the free classes.
You nodded. “Yoga’s nice, but I’d love to get into kickboxing or something. I’m kind of nervous to sign up for a class. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.”
“I can teach you,” Maeve said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think.
“Are you sure? That’d be great, but only if you have the time and everything.”
“Yeah, let me give you my number. It’ll be easier to plan that way.”
You handed your phone to her, and she quickly entered her personal number into your messages, texting a simple ‘Hey’ to herself. She hesitated a moment before giving you back your phone. Okay, this was for real. She was committing to it.
“I’ll text you later. I’m free most weeknights, so just let me know,” you said cheerfully.
A sour mix of excitement and regret clouded her mind until you left, and as she walked down the hall to the elevator, she thought she’d at least have a chance to at least convince herself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She was never that lucky.
“Uncharacteristically nice of you to offer to help out Y/N,” Homelander said, almost as if materializing out of nowhere.
Maeve balled her hands into fists at her side. Why did he always have to be lurking? Recently, he had been fucking off to god only knows where, sometimes for days at a time. Of course he had to be around when she finally made a move. “I’m just full of surprises.”
“Your heart’s beating like a racehorse, Maeve. You’re not that excited about just practicing some kickboxing moves, are you? I’d be a better partner than her, in that case. You and I are practically indestructible. Her on the other hand—it’s amazing how fragile humans are.”
Maeve remained silent, letting out a shaky breath as she refused to acknowledge his taunting.
“You think she knows her sports bra is a size too small? I mean, one downward dog and her tits are practically spilling out of—“
“Get a grip,” Maeve snapped.
“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s just locker room talk,” Homelander said, a menacing smile plastered across his face. “Speaking of surprises, I wonder what Y/N would think if she knew this was all a ploy for you to get into those tight yoga pants of hers. I guess I can’t blame you. Not exactly my type, but with the way you can see her panty line through them, she’s practically asking for it.”
“Asking for what?” she asked, standing taller as she looked him in the eye, daring him to make his threat.
“Hit a nerve there, huh, Maeve?”
“Mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.”
“Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” he said abruptly.
She knew him well enough that it meant someone was coming down the hall, and he didn’t want them hearing a word he said. Scoffing, she shook her head as she walked away, trying to keep a brave face as she made her way to the elevator.
Storming into her suite, she slammed the door behind her and threw the nearest breakable object at the wall before collapsing onto the couch, her head in her hands. Fuck. She’d been too obvious, too careless, and now you were going to be on the receiving end of it. Keeping her distance wouldn’t be fair to you, and it’d only put you in more danger when it came to Homelander. As much of a Girl Scout as Starlight could be sometimes, at least she was willing to risk it all for Hughie, even when he was lying through his teeth to her about Butcher and Compound V. At the very least, Maeve could do the same for you moving forward.
Still, she decided she was way too sober for her liking, and dug through her cabinets to find a half-drunk bottle of vodka, wanting to escape the gravity of the situation she found herself in for just a little while.
The next day, she woke up a few minutes past eleven, her head pounding as she checked her phone. A few missed calls and texts, including one from you: ‘Hey! Homelander said you were sick. Hope you feel better soon💐’
Between the thought of Homelander being near you and her raging hangover, Maeve leaned over the side of the bed, throwing up into the nearby trash can. She got another text from Ashley, asking if she’d still be able to do her designated crime fighting schedule that night since she was supposed to team up with A-Train. Staring at the text, she grinned, getting out of bed to choke down a few aspirin and make her way to crime analytics.
The department’s office was depressingly dark, and the girl who nervously pulled up the schedule for the next few weeks looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Opening the notes on her phone, she quickly typed what days and times Homelander would be away from the tower. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do while she figured out how to take control of the situation.
Your kickboxing lessons with her began a little after seven on a Thursday evening. Maeve had asked you to keep everything under wraps, claiming she didn’t want everyone pestering her to train them. This was a one-off thing because you were friends. She was relieved at how your face lit up when she put it that way.
The whole arrangement made her realize how rusty she was at flirting with someone she was actually interested in, as opposed to the sleazy guys she’d bring up to the tower for one-night stands only to kick them out afterward. Training with you was great, you were eager to learn despite struggling to pick up some of the moves. She took the opportunity to stand close to you, putting her arms over yours and guiding your movements, her body framing yours. Sometimes her hands would linger over your skin, feeling how soft you were against her until she felt you shiver or heard your breath hitch. The physical, intimate closeness drove her crazy. In those moments, she wondered what your whole body felt like, your stomach and thighs surely plush beneath her fingertips.
Things came to a head during your fourth training session. Homelander hadn’t been at the tower for a day or so, and you were acting bolder. There was no way you didn’t catch her staring at the way you bounced around while Heart’s ‘Kick It Out’ blasted from the speakers you’d connected your phone to. She was sure you were doing it on purpose at that point.
“I think I’m almost as good as you,” you joked, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.
She laughed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Bring it on!”
Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood across from her on the training mat. Your stance wasn’t the best, but you were trying despite her dodging your blows with ease. Just because she liked you, it didn’t mean she was going to hand you a win. You were having fun, a smile on your face as she caught your lifted leg before you could really kick.
In any other scenario, she figured you could hold your own pretty well in a fight with a non-supe. You threw a punch which Maeve blocked without so much as blinking. One more time, you went for another kick, only for her to send you flat on your back with a thud.
She pinned you to the mat, the two of you silent except for your breathing. Maeve didn’t do anything but stare at your face, just mere inches from hers for a few moments. God, you were fucking pretty. Your eyes seemed to sparkle despite the harsh gym lighting, and your parted lips were almost calling to her.
“You win,” you said softly from beneath her.
“Do I get a prize?”
“Wanna get drinks after this? On me?”
She smiled, reluctantly getting up from on top of you. “Hope you have your credit card ready.”
You took her outstretched hand, almost surprised at how fluidly she pulled you up onto your feet, until you remembered she was the strongest woman in the world, after all. The fact that she was getting drinks with you was a plus.
“I know a few places in my neighborhood, if you don’t mind going out to Brooklyn,” you said. “They’re kind of dives, but they’re fun.”
“That honestly sounds perfect.”
“Okay. I’m gonna shower and change really quick.”
She nodded. “Take your time.”
As soon as you disappeared into the locker room, Maeve looked down at her costume, internally groaning. It was the furthest thing from inconspicuous. In all honesty, she missed having a secret identity, the small thing that separated her from the persona that Vought manufactured for her. Whether for sentimentality or foolish hope of a situation like this one, she’d kept some of her street clothes.
Glancing at the locker room again, she decided to rush up to her suite and throw on something that would afford the two of you some privacy. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the elevator doors to open before slipping inside and pressing the button for her floor.
When she reached her suite, she frowned at the selection of clothing in her dresser. Touching one shirt, she felt a lump form in her throat. The somewhat coarse fabric sent memories rushing back, she’d worn it on one of her last dates with Elena, before she handed her whole life over to Vought and Homelander sunk his hooks into her. There was a slight stain on the sleeve, evidence of Elena’s wine glass that had tipped over when some asshole decided to make it clear that he didn’t approve of their date, so he had to make it the whole restaurant’s problem. When he started becoming aggressive, Maeve grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him over, knocking him into at least three other tables with the sheer force she used. That was the catalyst for her initially fake relationship with Homelander, as Vought’s marketing team decided it would improve her image after the incident.
She exhaled, shaking her head as she tried grounding herself. Things could be different with you. She’d take back control of her life—from Vought, from Homelander, from her own self-sabotage. Her outfit choice for the kind-of-but-not-really date was simple. She ran her fingers through her signature styled waves, messing her hair up a bit to make her less recognizable. Seeing herself in the mirror, she smiled. For the first time in months, she looked and felt like herself.
Her phone buzzed, and to her relief, it was a text from you.
‘Hey! Ready to go when you are🍻’
Biting her lip, she retyped her response to you three times before sending, ‘Great be down in a min😄’
She instantly regretted her choice of emoji, but it didn’t matter, something that simple wasn’t going to ruin her night. After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she was asked out by someone she actually liked. You hadn’t explicitly said it was a date, but the tension was there, and Maeve hoped to god she wasn’t reading too much into things.
You were waiting in the gym for her, now changed back into your work clothes of a blouse and skirt. In the meantime, you had pulled up the info for some of the bars that you and your friends frequented in your neighborhood. She looked over them quickly, settling on a 70s-themed one you recommended based on the decor and cheap burgers. Her mind raced while the two of you walked down the hall and to the elevator, deciding to leave through a service corridor rather than the building’s main floor.
As the elevator made its descent to the lower levels of the building, Maeve figured she at least owed it to you to let you know what you were getting yourself into. She’d already put you at risk with the amount of time she was spending with you. You looked at her in confusion when she pressed the emergency stop.
“You know this isn’t just drinks, right?”
You smiled a bit, “What is it then?”
“Y/N, I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Maeve, can you just be real with me instead of the cryptic shit?”
“Fuck," she groaned. "Okay, look. I’m into you, but Homelander’s a jealous son of a bitch who won’t let me have a life, so the fact that we’ve been spending time together and going out for drinks means you’re in serious danger.”
You were quiet for a few moments. She took your silence as an understandable rejection, moving to press the emergency stop button to bring you back up until you spoke.
“I’ll take the risk.”
“Are you sure? Y/N, Homelander won’t hold back. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but–”
You looked at her, really looked at her, as she laid out the risks for you clear as day. It didn’t matter. You’d come to the conclusion pretty quickly that she was worth it. She was Queen fucking Maeve for Christ’s sake. Most importantly, though, you were into her too, and you’d never forgive yourself for passing up the opportunity to go out with her and see where things led.
As she was in the middle of listing ways Homelander could kill you, you interrupted her with a quick peck on the lips, enough to startle her out of her rant for a moment. That seemed to get the message through, because she kissed you, backing you into the elevator wall across from the closed doors.
You parted your lips for her, happy to let her take the lead as she cupped your cheek in her hand, her fingers pulling your face closer to her. Even though she’d just pinned you to the floor less than an hour earlier, you were taken aback by how strong she was. She bit gently on your bottom lip, her teeth tugging at it before kissing you again.
Groping one of your breasts through your blouse, she moved her hand further down your body until she reached your thighs, her fingers gently tracing undistinguishable patterns into your skin. You could feel her start to play with the hem of your skirt before sliding her hand beneath it.
You whispered a soft “yes” against her lips when her fingers brushed against the damp spot on your panties. Pressing her fingers against your core, she watched your face contort in pleasure as you whimpered for more.
It felt like eternity before she finally pushed her hand past the cotton material and began teasing your clit, ignoring your aching pussy. She pressed hot, open kisses against your skin before settling on the crook of your neck, biting into the tender skin so hard you almost thought it would break.
“Maeve, fuck,” you moaned.
“Too hard?”
You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Harder.”
Maeve grinned, slipping her index and middle fingers into your pussy, and you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. She didn’t care, curling her fingers inside you, pumping them in and out until your breath caught in your throat. You gasped as you gripped her shoulders, trying to keep your legs from giving out from under you. Using her other hand, she held you up by your thigh, her fingers squeezing your soft flesh.
You leaned your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as she began rubbing her thumb against your clit, bringing her attention back to it as your pussy clenched around her fingers. She brought her lips to your ear, her teeth grazing your earlobe before she whispered, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”
“I’m close,” you barely managed to say.
“Don’t hold back. I wanna feel you,” she said, her voice raspy as she squeezed your thigh for emphasis.
“Fuck–fuck, I’m–”
You came on her hand, fully relying on her strength to keep you up as she kept fingering you through your orgasm. Pressing her lips to yours, you were hardly able to kiss her back as you moaned into her mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall behind you as you tried getting a grip on something.
Finally, she pulled her hand from your pussy, and the one that had been holding you by your thigh wrapped around your waist to support you. She brought her hand to her mouth, licking your juices off of them so casually you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. You kissed her again, feeling lightheaded at the taste of yourself on her lips. Still, you figured someone must have noticed by then that the elevator wasn’t working. You didn’t even want to think about anyone finding you and Maeve like that, especially if Homelander ended up hearing about it through the grapevine.
“My roommate’s working the night shift,” you whispered, your voice noticeably hoarser than before. “I’ve got beer at my place.”
“Fuck the bar,” Maeve said, kissing you again.
You let out a yelp that dissolved into a fit of giggles as she literally swept you off your feet. She smiled, pressing the emergency stop button, sending the two of you back down to the service corridor you’d be slipping out into the night from.
#queen maeve x reader#the boys x reader#queen maeve#maggie shaw#maggie shaw x reader#the boys#queen maeve imagine#the boys amazon#the boys tv
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(mockingbird au!) mother's day - platonic!hughes
request: okay hear me out for your mockingbird au maybe it’s mother’s day or father’s day and un buys a gift of either jim or ellen and a little card with something like to the second mom i always wanted 🥺🫶🏼
requested by: anon : )
notes: continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3
likes are good, reblogs are better <3
mockingbird! au request rules!
tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 , @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj
join my taglist!
gif not mine!
"ooh, this one's cute," you held up a card.
jack looked up from the corny jokes he was reading on the other cards, looking through the one you picked out.
the two of you were doing mother's day card shopping for ellen, but couldn't decide on one card. you'd already bought a cute gift from the both of you, but the card was one place you and jack couldn't agree.
"i just think she'll like the jokes more," jack said, holding up his corny joke-filled card.
"it's ellen, not jim," you reminded him.
"but this one's so funny," he tried again, reading one of the jokes and laughing like a four year old.
"let's just get both cards," you decided, placing them in the shopping cart. "one from each of us. that way, we can write her a personalized message."
"i like that idea," jack smiled. "why didn't i think of it?"
you laughed, "that's something i'd rather not get into right now. c'mon. we still need to get wrapping paper."
--
you tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, stumped as to how to write the card. sure, you'd written cards before, but never one for ellen.
this was your first mother's day being jack's girlfriend, and in such a short amount of time, ellen had already become more of a mom to you than your own mother.
she was supportive and kind, cheering you on whenever you needed her.
she was caring and sweet, always ready to be your shoulder to cry on if needed.
she was always there for you, taking you in as if you were her own child.
she was the one who showed you what a mother's love should look like.
how could you ever convey all that in a single card?
you stared at the blank page, promising yourself you'd try.
--
"where's my phone?" you moved the couch pillows, trying to find it.
jack patted the ground, helping you in your search. your ringtone had been blaring for a while, but you had no idea where it was.
"oh, here it is!" jack pulled it out from under his coffee table triumphantly. "look, it's my mom!"
"hurry and answer it," you told him. "i don't want her to hang up."
he fumbled for a second, before answering the facetime message. "hi mom!"
"hi jackie," ellen waved, sniffling slightly. "where's y/n? i want to see her."
"i'm right here, ellen," you said, taking the phone from jack and waving to his mom. her eyes were watery, and she kept sniffling on the facetime. "what's wrong? are you crying?"
jack looked up at that, noticing his mom's teary eyes and shaky voice.
"it's a good kind of crying, i promise," she laughed a little. "your card, it was so beautiful. i just, i loved it so much. the way you--" she shook her head, wiping her eyes, "i just loved it, y/n. and you should know, i'm glad you and jack met. i'm glad i was able to show you all of that, to be all of that for you. because i promise, you mean just as much to me."
"now you're gonna make me cry," you laughed to try and stop the tears.
ellen laughed as well, the two of you doing your best to keep the tears at bay. it was a special moment for you two, being able to share how important you were to each other.
at least until jack continued, "i'm so fucking confused right now."
#naqia's au's!#naqia writes!#mockingbird! au#jack hughes#jack hughes blurbs#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes fic#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes imagine#platonic!reader#platonic#new jersey devils fic#new jersey devils imagine#new jersey devils imagines#new jersey devils#new jersey devils x reader#nhl#nhl one shot#nhl edit#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#hockey fic#hockey
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Barry Keoghan March Prompt 2 please and thank you 💙
A/N - Aww this is adorable! I made this nice and short and cute for you to read, I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!
Hold
Summary - Barry loves holding your hand
Warning - Just fluff :)
“Alright, how does your month look for our holiday?”
“Looks, good. The awards season is done and I have a solid month open before my next project,”
“Perfect! And….done, we’re officially going on holiday,”
Barry chuckled as you slammed the Laptop shut in relief, he reached over to lace your fingers together from across the tiny coffee table between the pair of you. The rest of the shop was mostly deserted, except for a few patrons who were working on their own computers or reading. With the pattering of rain and the sun attempting to push through the storm clouds that were rolling by, you and Barry wanted to hide out in a coffee shop and have some one-on-one time together. It was one of your favorite coffee shops, you found a spot tucked away from the windows and out of the public eye since Barry was not being recognized out and about. He loved his stardom, he truly did, but he also loved having time away from set or paparazzi could be your boyfriend.
One of his favorite things to do with you was hold your hand.
Sure it seemed like it was such a simple thing to do, but he loved having your hand in his. Anytime he could, he would hold your hand and keep it tucked tight. Walking together shoulder to shoulder, watching a movie together cuddled on the couch, even falling asleep together when he would cuddle you close in his embrace. Something about having your hand in his, it felt like Ana char for him with how fast things were moving in his life.
“Where are we goin’?” He asked you as you took a long sip from your latte.
“Not going to tell you,” You hummed as an answer, seeing him cock up an eyebrow at you, “As someone who has connections to travel agents, this holiday is going to be amazing for us. Just be prepared to dress for warmth,”
“Ah, so I need my speedo?” He joked, and you giggled as he grinned from ear to ear.
“You would want to bring your speedo when we go under the sun,” You teased, “But you can’t get a sunburn or else your publicist will kill me,”
“Eh, she won’t do a thing to you,” Barry reassured you as he scooted over to be right next to you, wrapping a spare arm around your shoulders to tuck you in a bit closer next to him. Your hands were still connected on top of the table, his thumb stroking your skin back and forth along our hand as he spoke again, “She’s a great publicist, but wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“I know, that’s why I like her: she's kind but she keeps you in check when you’re away,” You explained, Barry kissing the top of your head.
“You make it seem like I’m a bad boy,” he commented, though he saw you smile as he poked your side, “You think I am, don’t ya?”
“Never said that,” You replied with a laugh as he poked your side again. Barry loved this banter between the pair of you, ever since you met two years ago thanks to a mutual friend who introduced the pair of you at a wrap party from one of his independent films. Barry instantly liked you, from how you laughed at one of the corny pickup lines another bloke tried on you, to how you were asking him plenty of questions about acting and what method he liked the best. He could tell you genuinely liked him as a person, not as an actor or a movie star. He asked you for your number, and you two have been a pair since then.
He was an actor who thrived and craved privacy, especially when it came to his personal life. He wanted to have his relationship with you as private as possible, not wanting to have public dates or extravagant vacations. In fact, he was the opposite, wanting to find little tucked-away restaurants to eat at or small getaways with no prying eyes. He saw now that acting life can tear families and relationships apart, and the one main thing he never wished for was to have his life with you tainted and ruined. But you never cared, not when you had your own life to deal with and your workload keeping you busy most days.
Still, little by little, you were known as his girlfriend. Barry taking you to a couple of premiers, dropping your name at interviews and talk shows, even walking with you side by side with the paparazzi catching the image at the right moment. He could see that you were no wallflower when it came to being in the spotlight from time to time. Sometimes the gossip columns and tabloids did get to you once or twice, but you were they were lies and not even close to the truth.
Barry loved having your hand in his when times were tough or when he was too stressed, It brought him inner peace and tranquility. If he could, he would hold your hand all the time and never let you go. Sure it seemed possessive, but he didn’t care. Barry cared about you and how you moved him from the inside out. Even seeing pictures of the two of you holding hands out in public, at a premiere or a party would always put butterflies in his stomach and make his heart swell.
He never felt like this with any other girlfriend, not for a long time.
“So, this warm holiday, am I going to be seeing you in a gorgeous swimsuit?” He asked you in a coy tone.
“Maybe, along with some of my favorite books to read and plenty of sunshine for the pair of us to share together,” You explained, “And it’s going to be at least 5 days too, so pack plenty of clothes…or not.”
“Hey!” He snorted, the pair of you laughing at the light antics between you two in your booth. He looked down at your joined hands, feeling the warmth of your palm against his own and your soft hands against his calloused fingers. He knew he wanted to hold your hand forever and beyond that as well.
Inwardly, he was glad that you planned this holiday out for the pair of you to enjoy. He had other plans that he was going to make with you, given the small ring box that he stored away in his dresser drawer back at his flat. He dreamed of placing a tiny diamond on your finger, for some time actually.
But you planning the holiday made it just a pinch sweeter.
The End
Spring Prompt Session
#barry keoghan#barry keoghan x reader#barry keoghan x female reader#barry keoghan imagine#barry keoghan x oc#barry keoghan x you#barry keoghan angst#fanfiction#writing#my love
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Can you please give me your general romance headcannons for Present Wukong?
Any gender is fine
Of course!!!! Thank you so much for asking! I'm so excited to be writing this!!!!
Wukong Romance Headcanons!
First things first, let me just say that this monkey is pretty dense when it comes to romance
That's dorky mortal stuff!! The Great Sage doesn't have time for snuggles or.. whatever humans do.
That is, until he meets you!
He is absolutely head over heels, and you best believe he's determined on winning your affections
Whether it's purposefully flaunting his powers even when it's unnecessary by using his staff to fling something over to him, or going shirtless to show off his muscles because "Hey, even immortals overheat!"
He's going all out
Once he realizes that you won't drop to your knees and confess your undying love for him after a bit of showboating, he actually starts taking things seriously
He takes the time to get to know you, commiting every interest and small detail to memory
(He isn't known for remembering important details, so he always tells his monkeys afterwards so that they can remind him should he forget!)
If he is able to overcome his pride and confess to you (which would take way longer than you just confessing first), then he would try to play it off casually
"I mean, I guess you could say I've had a thing for you for a little while. I never really told you cause I thought you'd freak out, but I figured I should just get it off my chest."
"You set up a picnic in front of the sunset with a romantic song in the background just to 'get it off your chest'?"
He threw his staff into the boom box that was blasting slow Bruno Mars songs out of pure embarrassment
Now, finally, once you two actually start dating!
Wukong treats it as basically still being friends with you, but with the privilege of being able to be affectionate
He takes full advantage of it don't worry
You'll get kisses from head to toe if he's feeling particularly smitten
Bear hugs if he's happy (sometimes he doesn't know his own strength and tends to affectionately manhandle things when he's not thinking, but he never hurts you)
Cuddles if he's feeling down
Nicknames are everything for this guy
He'd probably just call you bud to be completely honest, but sometimes he'll tease you and switch it up!
Uses old-timey/corny names like 'sweet stuff' or 'cutie'
Wukong is far from the best at comforting people, but he'll try his very best if you're upset
His first tactic is making jokes or teasing you until he can see a smile begin to spread across your beautiful face, at which he'll tackle you into a hug
If that doesn't work, then he'll try to be gentle and affectionate and talk things out with you. When you don't laugh at his first few jokes, he'll slowly sit behind you and wrap his arms around your slouched frame and bury his face in your hair
"I'm sorry that happened bud.. wanna talk it out?"
And if all else fails, then he'll just sit beside you. Quietly. He'd never leave you alone when you're in your feelings. No one deserves that.
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Halloween Hotness
Prompt – Wearing A Sexy Halloween Costume
This also would count for Kinktober I believe
Sorry for the corny title! I figured I should write something for spooky season. This also stems a little bit from the new Tales of the TMNT series on Paramount+. I thought it was adorable and sad how the guys all had these great Halloween costumes and never even got to enjoy the party.
This is the first time I've written a turtle x reader and I decided not to use (Y/N). It just feels out of place in my writing, writing ‘you’ is hard enough, I’m so not used it. Please be gentle, it was really difficult to get the tense right.
Thankfully, my lovely friend @danceingfae helped me edit this.
Michelangelo x Reader
Content Warning: Aged up characters, 18+, smut, female reader, penetrative sex and mild sexual harassment.
Bayverse Turtles but could easily be another iteration.
In this prompt you decide to surprise your SO turtle boyfriend (Mikey in this case) with a sexy costume on the way to a party on Halloween.
Mikey absolutely loved Halloween, if he had to choose, it’s his favourite holiday. He loved the whole scene: dressing up, feeling like a regular guy and free candy! What’s not to love? This year you both agreed on a couple’s costume. He was going to be dressed as Bat-Turtle and you were going as Catwoman.
“Almost ready, Babe?” He called, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. His brothers were all doing their own thing out and about and you two were about to head to April’s Penthouse Halloween Party.
Sticking out your tongue, you carefully swiped the black eyeliner along the lower eyelid and placed the finishing touches on the top lid. Your cat-eye liner just had to be perfect. “Almost!” You called back.
The costume you picked out consisted of black leather with matching lacy black underwear. Slipping it on, you turned this way and that noting the lines of your bra showing under the suit and frown not liking how obvious they were. Not needing a bra anyways, especially with the tight leather pushing the girls up, you discard it then zip the suit all the way up, rubbing your hands over the now smooth area. Last touch was your mask, ears, thigh-high boots and sexy cat tail. Smirking at your image you stick you tush out and give it a wiggle while thinking, Catwoman, eat your heart out.
All Mikey had asked is for you to find a costume. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to see when you emerged. He hummed ‘spooky scary skeletons’ while he waited.
“I’m ready!” You sang, skipping out to join him.
Mikey turned to look, a huge smile coming to his face. “Awesome, Babycakes! That means we can… go…” he trailed off, mesmerized at the sight of you. “Holy shit…” He breathed, taking a long look at you.
You gave him a twirl. “Do I look okay?” You asked innocently. You knew you were having an effect on him and you loved it.
When he finally found his voice there was a husky edge to it. “Y-yeah…” he cleared his throat, jumping around you to get a better look, his cape swirling as he moved. “You look AMAZING! You look super hot, Babe!”
Your cheeks turned a little pink as you smiled, very pleased with his reaction. “Thanks, you look great too.” You lightly fingered the soft fabric of his cape and traced your finger around the horns of the mask he wore. “Shall we go?”
“Yeah!!” He replies, still a little dazed by your beauty but excited to show you off at the party. “Just watch, you’re gonna be the hottest babe there!”
You giggled as you walked toward the exit, your tail swishing hypnotically along with your hips.
Mikey is once again distracted by the way the leather tightly accentuates your ass. “So fucking sexy…” He whispered before following you and putting his arm around your shoulders.
Mikey is somewhat of a celebrity, word had gotten around about how he and his brothers had saved New York City and videos had popped up all over YouTube describing their heroic efforts. Mikey had not been shy or that humble about it. He’d signed autographs, taken selfies… so when the two of you entered the room, the cheering erupted.
Mikey loved a good party, but he loved showing you off even more. Throughout the night he took every opportunity to introduce you, he kissed you, danced with you, He’d made it very obvious that you two were an item. He was so proud that his girlfriend was so gorgeous and wanted everyone to know.
Sometime during the party, April had dragged Mikey away to introduce him to a couple fans and promising it would be quick. As minutes ticked away though, you wandered to the balcony and stepped out into the crisp air, closing your eyes as a small shiver runs through you. It was quieter out here, most preferring to stay in the warmth of the penthouse. For you though it was a nice break from the noise since Mikey was busy elsewhere.
A moment later you hear the door open and you smile thinking Mikey had come out to bring you back in to the party. As you turned with a smile, it faltered to see that it was not Mikey, but two men dressed up in dark clothes. Not sure, or caring what their costumes were, you give them a small nod of hello then try to step between them to get back inside.
“Where you going, kitten?” One said staying next to his buddy so you couldn’t get through. The look in their eyes up close made your heart start to beat nervously and you cleared your throat to try and speak clearly.
“Inside, back to my boyfriend,” you say giving them a knowing look and trying not to let them see your hands tremble. Everyone knew who your boyfriend was, it was definitely not a secret.
“Come on, sexy kitten, come be with a real man, not like that freak could satisfy you anyway…” They said.
You were already uncomfortable the moment you tried to get past them but after that comment you were angry. “No, thank you.” You said firmly. “Not interested, get out of here before he kicks your asses.”
“I think you might want to reconsider.” The one guy said, caging you in against the wall. “What’s he gonna do? He don’t scare us.”
You attempt to push his chest to escape but find the other guy has blocked you. “Not so fast, kitten, give us a kiss before you go!”
“No!” you say firmly, and your training with Mikey kicks in. You suddenly strike upwards with the heel of your hand and attempt to kick him in the groin. Both hits actually made contact and he yelped in pain. “You little bitch!”
His friend rounded on you to retaliate and you go on the defensive, wincing slightly because you really don’t want to be hit. As anticipated, they rounded up on you and you keep your defenses up. There’s small shaking in your hands which the men grinned seeing. Hating that, you take a breath as they reach back ready to swing their arm towards your face.
The hit never lands as the man is suddenly is ripped away from you and a soft growl is heard. “These guys bothering you, baby?” Mikey sounded different, like he was trying to restrain himself from ripping them apart.
You nodded, crossing your arms. “Yeah… seems they forgot who I belong to.”
“Thought so. They were just leaving.” Mikey grinned. The words are said cheerfully though there’s an edge to them. In a moment he’d grabbed both of the guys by their shoulders and was practically dragging them to the exit.
He knew April wouldn’t mind if he acted as a bouncer for a couple of creeps and throws them through the door into the hallway. “Thank you! Don’t come again, assholes!”
He shut the door, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Then he went to make sure you’re okay.
You haven’t moved, still trying to calm your racing heart and hoping the evening wasn’t ruined. The feel of strong arms wrapping around startles you but in moments you recognize the feel of Mikey’s arms and lean back into him taking comfort in his touch.
“It’s just me, Babycakes… Are you okay?” he whispered against your neck.
You nodded and reach behind to caress his face. “I’m okay… I’m sorry… those guys…” You felt a little emotional and your breath hitched.
Mikey swiftly has you turned, in his arms and pulled tight against his chest. “No, no, no, no…” he said. “You did nothing wrong, it’s my fault, I’m the one who left you alone. I’m sorry…”
You melted into his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck. “It isn’t your fault either.” Then kissed him.
Mikey’s arms tightened around you as he angles his mouth, deepening the kiss. Relief coursed through him as he felt your body melt against his. You were safe, you were real, and you were his. His kisses are soft but demanding as if he’s trying to drink you in, taking everything you have to give.
Willingly, you reciprocate, softly whimpering against his lips. A sound of wanting, an invitation for more. You need him now and you don’t want everyone staring as some are currently doing.
Mikey can scent the sweet smell of your arousal instantly, and breaks the kiss. He brings his forehead against yours, a silent question of your desire as you take in each other’s soft breaths.
You get lost for a moment in the bright, baby-blue hues of his eyes and your grip on his arm tightened as you whisper. “Let’s get out of here.”
Your adorable turtle boyfriend in a black, plastic Batman mask doesn’t need any more of an invitation than that. He scooped you up gallantly, like the knight in shining armor he is and you’re out of that party before you can even blink.
Mikey easily found somewhere private for the both of you. An alcove, tucked away from prying eyes. As soon as your feet hit the ground his lips are on yours again, hard and demanding. His arms pulling you in so tight and quick, you gasped into the kiss. You placed your hands on his well-formed, muscular plastron and rubbed. He quietly churred from the contact. You felt more than heard the sound rumbling through your hands bringing a smile to your lips. You loved it when he made that sound.
He brought his hand down to your perfectly round bottom and squeezed it before giving it a light swat. Your arousal spiked as you groan softly, showing your desire openly for him. Mikey never wanted you to hide how much you wanted or needed him.
Mikey began pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, scenting you more as your need grew. “Damn, girl… you smell incredible, You know, I’ve been holding back all night from doing this… from wanting to touch you, feel you… Almost lost it when I saw those assholes harassing you.” His large hands move, exploring your body, sliding over your soft curves, squeezing and gently kneading the skin still tightly clad in the black leather. He suddenly slides the mask part of the costume over your head because he wants to see your face.
You do the same to him, easily removing the black mask and letting it fall where it may. He smiled, kissing you again deeply, his larger tongue exploring your mouth, pulling yet another moan from you.
His kisses are hot, demanding as he left your lips, sucking your pulse point. “Seeing those creeps bothering you…” he murmered, his thumb on the zipper, the only thing holding your costume together. “They knew… they knew you were mine…” He looked angry then, his focus off of you and away. Rarely he’d accidentally allow himself to go to a dark place regarding your safety.
To snap him out of it, you placed your hands on either side of his face. “I’m yours Mikey… all yours” You whispered. “I knew you would come for me.”
His gaze snapped back to yours and he breathed, coming back to himself. Looking into your eyes is like coming home, like finally getting air after holding his breath. “Mine…” he growled and claimed your mouth once again.
You encouraged him by reciprocating desperately, your thighs rubbing together as you feel much too constricted now with what you’re wearing. You reach and move his hand. The zipper click-click-clicked down a little before he realized what you were doing.
Mikey broke the kiss, smirking like a kid in a candy store. He can’t contain his excitement as he finished what you started, pulling that zipper down. Your breasts sprung free of their confines and were in his hands immediately.
“Ohh…” You breathed, shivering when your breasts found the open air then covered by his large, warm hands. “Oh, yes…”
He squeezed them gently, thumbing the tips in just the right way to make you gasp. “You have the most perfect tits, baby… so sexy…” His hot mouth is on them in an instant, his tongue tracing each pert nipple with ease.
Your body trembled and you felt the flood of heat and wetness go straight to your core. ”M-Mikey… ohh that feels good…”
“Hm…? You like that? I love the way you taste, babe…” He grinned, pushing the suit down one arm at a time and lower still. His hands splayed across your belly, relishing in the feel of your soft skin. “How wet is that sweet pussy of yours?” he husked.
You felt his fingers slide lower and arched toward him with a gasp. One of his thick fingers slid into your heat while is thumb carefully circled your very sensitive nub. You moaned low in your throat. “Fuck…”
Mikey groaned, hearing you swear was the best compliment, and a total turn on. He allowed himself to drop, groaning at the wetness he felt as he’s touching you. “Baby… you need me to fill you up?”
“Yes!” you gasped, grinding against his hand.
His fingers move achingly slow. “Say it, Baby…” he is so hard for you it’s almost painful.
You trembled, a desperate cry upon your lips but you gave him what he wanted to hear. “Mikey! Fuck… fuck me please!”
His costume’s gone, joined by yours in a hot second. You’re braced against the wall then with him poised at your entrance. “Can’t wait to make you scream…”
“Please…” you gasped out, knowing he loved it when you begged.
Mikey held your gaze, arms wrapped tightly around you. “I’ll give it to you, Baby…” he eased himself in, groaning at the way your hot, slick, channel stretched to accommodate him. “Fuck, you feel amazing… you always take me so good…”
You gasped at the initial but welcomed intrusion and arched your back with a soft cry. You felt so full, so incredible, you felt complete with him. “Mikey…” you breathed his name, full of passion and need. You caressed his face in the most gentle affectionate way. An unsaid declaration of the love you feel for him.
He felt it too. This connection you shared was like no other. “I know, Babe…” he said as he began to move within you. “I got you…”
His movements are slow at first, unhurried, he just wanted to feel you, hear the soft sounds of pleasure you made as he deeply thrust into you.
Your legs wrap around him more tightly, encouraging him to speed up his movements a little. “More… Yes… Faster…” You moaned.
Mikey absolutely obliged by moving his hands to your thighs. He thrust his hips harder, angling himself so he could hit that sweet spot deep inside of you. “Love this… love these sounds you’re making for me, Babe… love you so much…”
You can’t even answer him because he kissed you hard after those words. You whimpered against his mouth instead. You felt your body start to tremble and your inner walls clench all around him.
“You’re close…” His voice is ragged in your ear. “Scream for me… cum hard… just for me…” he redoubled his efforts fucking you harder into the wall, staving off his release because yours is that much more important. He needed to feel you first.
You do scream, a choked undulating cry as your body tenses up. You’re flooded with raw, unadulterated pleasure as you cum hard.
Mikey is not far behind. He jerked his hips, thrusting deeply a few more times with a ragged groan before filling you up completely with his release. He tries to make it last as he’s milked for all he’s worth, his essence is dripping down your thighs when he’s finished.
Catching his gaze again you breathed harshly as he huffed his own deep breaths. He reached to cradle your jaw, giving you the softest of smiles. “That was amazing Babe… you’re so awesome, I love you so much.”
Although Mikey wasn’t always the best with words, the true meaning was always here. He easily made you swoon with his heartfelt declaration. “I love you too, you always rock my world…”
“Always will.” He grinned and swiftly pulled out, forgetting about the gush of fluid that always followed when he did that. “Shit, um, oops? Actually, can’t be sorry, that’s always so, damn, hot.”
It was impossible for you not to laugh even more. “Yeah… I don’t think we’re going back to the party, Mikey…”
“Wasn’t planning on it. Still got our Monster Marathon to do, remember?” He looked so pleased and so excited, it was the cutest thing in the world.
“Right.” You managed to pull the suit back on over the mess and zip it up. “Take me home, Bat-Turtle.”
Mikey has his costume grabbed and you in his arms a second later. “With pleasure, my fine, feline.” He grinned, kissing you once more before leaping off into the night.
Most memorable Halloween you’ve ever had, it is quickly becoming your favourite holiday.
The End.
Tag List - small for now but if you'd like me to add you, let me know!
@iridescentflamingo
@thelaundrybitch
@danceingfae
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my thing about izaya is that he's so strange and weird and i love that so much. i didn't want to ramble too much in the notes of that poor person's post but i find the way he speaks and the words he chooses so interesting so let me ramble a little bit. this may or may not even be coherent so bear with me here im just going to speak my thoughts.
ok this got really fucking long and all over the 0place so im putting this under a read more sorry.
so i have volume 9 of the novel in both english and japanese. i only have two novels in japanese and that is this one and yuuyake wo. so i'm pretty crazy about this izaya speech analysis shit. anyways i was rereading thru the jp ver the other day just to compare it to the eng and i kinda realized that like.
a lot of people you can separate their speech in either formal and informal speech right? someone like shizuo speaks really informally and uses a lot of rough, dragged-out versions of words and stuff (しゃーねえ vs しょうがない) and then someone like shinra who speaks in a ton of yojijukugo and generally sounds like a nerd emoji gijinka.
izaya on the other hand rly... doesn't fit in either? i mean sure he sounds like another nerd emoji gijinka but it's kinda different. it's not so much the words he speaks but rather the intonation and his tone...
and he has his moments where he speaks pretty seriously and whatnot of course, but in general he just... doesn't sound very human when he speaks? i don't know if that's a conscious effort or not. is it his attempts at distancing himself from his own individual humanity? or is it just because he's a weird guy? i dunno. but it's interesting nonetheless.
one thing i will note though is that despite his somewhat inhuman speech patterns, it's also pretty...dramatic? to the extent where it's really exaggerated but also very cute and charming. (this part is important.)
i think a lot of what makes izaya's speech so weirdly inhuman is because he doesn't really use a lot of slang or similar lingo that people his age would typically use. i know mikado said in the novels that he doesn't really try to fit in with his age group's fashion sense either so it makes sense but still. he's like an old hag it's so funny. and it's because of that that when he says stuff like 'i don't get all hot and heavy over headless women' or whatever he said to celty it's really amusing to me because like... why is the strange man saying this?💀
another example i kinda giggled about on my twitter when i read it it's not even crazy and i sound corny and cheesy and stupid but theres this scene in vol 9 where izaya messages celty for business and hold on let me just put it as a quote.
he sounds so old saying 'video game' like 😭 idk it's just funny cause he barely even knows anything abt games like bro knows nothing im crying
in the jp hes like 「…ゲーム中なのかい?」 and then when celty tries to explain herself he says 「何を言ってるのか、良く解らないんだけど」 and im rly bad at tling parts of sentences and stuff but just know that the way he words it makes it sound like this gif to me
i love both versions i think the original jp makes him sound like hes so lost and confused (hence why pw gif cause lord that man always looks lost LMFAOOOO) and then eng tl just blunt ass "I don't know what you're talking about." makes him sound like full on hag 😭😭😭
OMFG WAIT I HAVE TO MENTION THIS FUCKING SCENE WITH SHINRA ITS SO FUNNY.
first i think it's funny the translation has izaya say fuck here cause he very rarely swears and i did read this one thing about how he only swears when his mask slips so to me this is like genuine bewilderment that he cant even hide LOL. second why is he so excited to hear about 'whatever sexual fetish' shinra has im crying he's so damn nosy . okay but this is not the funniest part let me add that now.
???
ehy the hell is izaya orihara talking about foot fetishes???😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 im crying bruh i was so flabbergasted when i read this i was like WHAT did he just say? he says it in the jp ver too which just makes it even funnier. this goes back to what i said earlier but i always get so amused when izaya has something to say about sex or whatever cause he's so fucking weird and unsettling why does he know that
(i mean i also get so hard i nearly pass out thinking about izaya tlaking about sex but thats probably just a thing with my heart condition and stuff)
oh also another scene i think is really cute and amusing and funny is back when shinra was first still trying to get izaya to form the bio club w him.
1. shinra is funny as fuck in this scene but also izaya's "Hmm. Can I punch you?" made me havbe a good laugh. in the jp he says 「んー。殴ってもいいのかな?」 which is pretty much the same thing just with the intonation of like 'hmmmmmmmmm should i hit u or not...' sorry like i said im just bad w explaining this stuff. but i felt the need to point it out not cause im one of those annoying ppl who praise the original jp ver and reject translations and localizations i just think it's important for izaya specifically cause i love him and i want to analyze his speech patterns as best as i can.
i was going thru the novel just now for other stuff i wanted to mention and i forgot abt this part but it's so funny.
'Let's not get hasty. Type calmly, please.' its not even funny or nothing i just find it so amusinf whenever he talks like that💀 i will say though the english translation kind of makes him sound more weird and inhuman than the original. that line in the original was basically just him telling her she needs to calm down enough to at least type properly LOL. idk if im just being nitpicky cause this is izaya tho so feel free to ignore that. fwiw i like the eng tl bc while it's a different intonation than the original japanese ver i think if he did speak english it would probably sound smth like that anyways.
this too made me laugh like ??? seriously he is really nosy when it comes to people's intimate affairs. in the jp ver he calls them an 'intimate couple' which just is like .. ok bro💀
does anyone else see my vision of izaya getting cucked by celty (does it count as cucking when celtys the one dating shinra) while he looks sad and pathetic and miserable that he never decided to shoot his shot w shinra back in the day
if i were commenting on the actual stuff going on in this scene rn this post would be a lot olonger and even more terribly all over the place so im just gonna focus on how i think it's funny izaya says 'easy, man...' this is like one of the only times his words are somewhat natural and sound like smth you would hear someone else say. in the jp ver it's 「おいおい…」 which is somewhat less out of left field in terms of coming from izaya but still it's pretty surprisingly normal. i have to wonder if in that moment he's too worried about shinra to care about keeping up appearances.
this is just random and me making fun of izaya as usual but why the hell does he weigh himself after his showers💀💀💀 it's cute and endearing and only adds to his strong gap moe but still... it's strange...
speaking of cute things this is from a volume i forget but he says this one phrase a couple of times and it is just both really cute and also kind of idk... saddening. one of the times i can remember he says it is when namie was making fun of him or something and he replies 'Don't tease me. I'm only human.' or something along those lines and it's like . hm. ok.
i think it's cute he says 'dont tease me' a few times cause eughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (trying to ward off severe brain damaged incoherent thoughts) but 'im only human' is like... are you really? even after you try so hard to escape your own humanity and individual self so much... im going to try and give my thoughts on it here but this is just based off my hc that izaya has bpd so yanno. im basing a lot oif this on my own experiences sorry. i do that a lot. (gestures over to all the posts i make abt fob/mychem fan izaya)
when it comes to just straight up acknowledging his humanity izaya has no problems with this because 'sure, i'm human. isn't that obvious?' is probably something along the lines of what he thinks. it's easy for him to just say that because it's just that. it's just words. it holds no real meaning and shows no true insight into how he actually perceives himself. but when it comes to actually having to come face to face with his own humanity and the fact that yes, he is only human, it's a lot more difficult because now it's out of his control. i wonder also if he has problems with perceiving his own self.
i say this a lot but i truly do believe izaya is so so so beautiful and i love him so much. also i just saw a funny post on twitter so i wanna say this here idk if yall know this but izayas actually a latina hes got chismosavirus❤ ok thats all i have to say sorry for rambling so much
#my media literacy suddenly skyrockets when it comes to izaya#anything else im like zzzzzzzzzz as soon as its time to talik abt izaya im like I'M UP !!!! 💯💯💯💯#but ya this isnt meant to be like anything crazy or nothing i just felt like talking abt izaya and some stuff in particular i found amusing#sorry if i sound stupid in some spots im trying not to just add 20 skull emojis or crying emojis and make fun of him#it's either that or im trying not to sexualize him#it's a battle. it's prety hard.#theres a REALLY easy joke i could make there but im not going to . im gonna be mature .#ok sorry thats all i dont have enough energy to think anymroe#i started new meds today and my heartds feeling a little funny so imight die after posting this</3#mine
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Rolfe Dewolfe Headcanons!
He is my current microwave blorbo (he is rotating around in my brain rn) and I have many thoughts about him!
This post is sfw of course!
He has a huge inferiority complex and some major ego issues. Bro is a little delulu but we love that.
I headcanon that Wolfman (lead singer of The Wolf Pack 5) is his older brother. This is where a large majority of his insecurities stem from, as his brother is far more well-liked and successful than he is.
He struggles to emulate Wolfman’s natural charm and charisma, so his attempts come off as forced and disingenuous as a result… Just ✨neurodivergent things✨
Not a headcanon but he forged prescriptions for pain medication???? Back pain allegedly, according to the Smitty’s introduction tape at least. Perhaps he’s a chronic pain king who couldn’t afford them!
I know it’s heavily implied that Earle is his own entity and whatnot, but I personally prefer the idea that Rolfe is just using his puppet to vent his frustrations with… Well, himself! It’s his own way of trying to tell people he’s self aware, but everyone seems to take his outlandish persona seriously…
Going based on that headcanon, he’d have to have some good vocal range too. His singing voice might not be the best but he’s definitely got some good impressions up his sleeve.
He’s funnier when he’s being authentic and not trying to be funny, if that makes sense. His jokes on stage are all very corny but behind the scenes I think he has his own unique sense of humor that the others often miss out on.
He loves disco. Canon technically, but it’s cute enough to mention. He was probably going to a lot of discotechs back when he was younger, since he was likely a young man during the time period in which disco would be relevant.
Age wise I feel like he’d be somewhere in his 30s-40s. Gray is a common color for wolves but he gives washed up celebrity vibes, yk?
He could wear shoes but he chooses not to wear them, it’s a sensory thing. He doesn’t like how constricting they feel, and I’d imagine it’d be hard finding shoes in his size anyway.
He’s the typa fella to go to sleep with that old ahh nightgown and the long droopy hat and comically flap his jowls when he snores.
Him and Fats bicker a lot but I think it’s mostly playful banter, they’re the kind of friends who start fake beef with each other just for fun. Fats is probably the one he’s closest to out of the band members, since they have a mutual understanding of one another and what makes each other tick.
Absolutely a terrible shopper. Do not send him to the store (even with a list), he will buy the most expensive versions of everything and a bunch of stuff you didn’t ask for (he only wants the best for you but he can’t keep paying 50$ for orange juice 😭).
In denial about his wrinkles. He’s still fresh as a daisy, or at least that’s what he tells you. His rosy cheeks are real though, no makeup needed for those.
If he gets frustrated enough he’ll do that dog thing that’s not a growl but a little bit of a low rumble.
In high school, he was the “weird puppet guy.” It was like every social interaction with him was a dry run for his future standup routines, he’d never talk to anyone without Earle also being involved in the conversation. It was a comfort thing for him, and it made interacting with others easier, but most people thought he was just weird for it. Once again I say ✨neurodivergent things✨
Avid vest and bowtie collector of course. He’s like Saul Goodman if he didn’t wear pants.
He knows how to play some weirdly specific instrument that sadly wouldn’t fit in with the rest of the bands lineup, but it’s something you’d never know until you’re like shopping for a replacement for your instrument and you see him trot over to a fucking theremin and start making some alien invasion ahh music
#animatronic#animatronics#botblr#rock afire explosion#rolfe dewolfe#rockafire explosion#robots#rolf dewolfe#rae#headcanons#headcanon#rae headcanons#showbiz#showbiz pizza#anthro#furry#gif#gif warning#tw medication#medication#medication mention#chronic pain
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Every time I rewatch and Alex says 'no such thing as a locked door when you're a prince, I suppose,' it makes me think about keys and how they're used in relation to Henry in the book vs the movie. In the book, Henry says:
“Funny thing about being a prince—people will give you keys to just about anything if you ask nicely.”
(Which that line from Alex is obviously a nod to)
And it creates this nice juxtaposition between Henry, the prince, who can go anywhere he wants, who has this illusion of freedom, vs Henry the man who is trapped in this life and sees no way out. (Although, by the point that he says this, he’s already starting to see that freedom in Alex.) And I love that! But I also love the changes made in the film. Instead, we get this (paraphrased from memory) exchange:
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever owned a key in my entire life.”
“No such thing as a locked door when you’re a prince, I suppose.”
“Well… You’d be surprised.”
So, here, it's used to emphasise Henry's situation and how he feels trapped in his life—literally without a key to get out. Until Alex. Alex unlocks Henry's life
And, so, the symbolism of Alex giving Henry his actual, physical key, after Henry gives him the ring, is strengthened by Henry never having had a key. Like, Alex is literally the key to unlocking Henry from the shackles of his life, to unlocking Henry full stop. Henry has never had a key—metaphorical or literal—until Alex.
And it's just... It's really lovely, the way it all ties together! That conversation from their first night together, to Alex giving Henry the key, and to him using it to bring Henry into his home, the way it all circles around. And the idea of love setting him free—it does sound kinda corny when you say it like that, I guess, but it's really a beautiful thing. The love he thought he couldn't have, that he initially ran from, is what allows him to be himself. Being queer and loving a man—the parts of himself he thought he’d always have to hide—is what frees him
There’s definitely more to say and I’m not even saying anything new but I was just thinking about it and wanted to ramble a bit even if I’m rambling about very obvious symbolism lol
(As an aside, I do want to mention Henry grabbing that random key from like under the rock, or whatever, as he leads Alex out of Kensington Palace. I mean, I'm sure it's more of a communal key, or something, so it doesn't 'belong' to Henry, and they still have to sneak out under cover of darkness, but it might muddy things a little? I'm not sure. Maybe it fits in because it’s when he’s starting to allow himself to think of the possibility of being open and being with Alex. I do know the idea of, in the universe of the movie, there being a key to the gates for Kensington Palace under a rock right by said gate is so funny to me though)
#red white and royal blue#RWRB#RWRB movie#FirstPrince#maybe they do just have a key lying around idk lol#(it seems unlikely 😜)
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Jack's dad - Aaron Hotchner
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A/n: First Hotch fic, please leave a comment below! NOT PROOFREAD
Category: Kinda slow burn, smut and fluff (threw in a little angst in the end)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!fem!reader
Season: some events in this take place in the end of season 6
Warnings: Rough unprotected pinv sex, other than that the smut is pretty vanilla, swearing, smut with plot, little dirty talk, pet names used: sweetheart
Word count: 10.4k (2.5k of those words are pure smut)
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Getting up at six every saturday wasn’t in any lists of my favorite things to do. But when you have a seven year old son who loves playing soccer, you don’t really have a choice. I was down in the kitchen packing food for him to eat after his match and water that he would need while playing. These soccer games were the only thing that made my son, Peyton, get out of bed early. When he came into the kitchen strutting in the clothes he’d wear for his match I couldn’t help but smile. Being a divorced single mom with a father that doesn’t want to see his own son is very challenging at times, moments like these made it all worth it. My son is my best friend, as corny as it might sound, it’s true. There’s no one in this entire world I love to talk to or hang out with more than him.
“You already up and running?” I asked him with a grin.
“Mhm,” he nodded happily. “I’m gonna kill it today out on the field!” Peyton exclaimed excitedly, making me giggle at his silliness.
“I’m sure you will, now tell me what you want to eat before we have to leave. Game’s starting at seven!”
The toast I made for him went down fast and then he went to the bathroom to get ready. After Peyton was done he ran to the front door where his sneakers were waiting for him. I had his soccer shoes in my bag along with his food that I had put in a lunchbox. Faster than I could grab my shoes, Peyton stood rocking back and forth on his feet waiting impatiently.
“Mommy! We’re gonna be late!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m moving as quickly as I can.” I said while tying my shoelaces.
As soon as the front door opened Peyton ran to the car. I knew we’d arrive a little early but that was okay, he usually took his time getting pumped up and ready for his games. I know this might be a little selfish to say as a parent but I think he really was the best player on the team. He was definitely special, full of talent. When I started the car I needed to remind myself why I voluntarily was out driving this early in the morning. The only reason I went to these games is because of the huge amount of love I have for Peyton. I’d do anything for him.
When we arrived it was around 7AM, which meant that the game started in fifteen minutes or so. I was relieved to see that I wasn’t the first one there. Still, my breath got caught in my throat when I realized who it was out on the field that me and my son were walking towards.
I might’ve lied when I said the only reason why I come to these soccer games is because of how much I love my son. The other teeny tiny reason is because of one of the dads, Aaron Hotchner. He seemed to be a single parent since it was only him who showed at these soccer games and when he didn’t show it was Jack's aunt Jessica that came instead.
I never worked up the courage to talk to the man since he was fairly intimidating. He had this rough exterior to him, that told you he was serious about everything he does. Aaron seemed to only ever smile when he was with his son from what I’d seen. In my head that’s fair although I didn’t understand why. I figured it would make sense if I ever got to know him but I was way too afraid to talk to him. Since he was intensely serious I was afraid he’d think less of me or even just scoff at what I said. I felt that I was about to find out what he was like as soon as we made eye contact. By now me and Peyton were by the field that they were going to play on.
My son saw Jack and immediately left my side. I cursed at myself when I realized I had no choice but to make conversation with Aaron as he left the goal he was finishing setting up and walked towards me.
“Hey, I know who you are and so forth, but I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced.” He started with that usual look on his face that sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”
I know this man was tall, now that he was standing right in front of me I realized just how tall he is. This man had to be over 6 feet tall. I felt how my size shrunk for every step he had taken towards me. I finally took my hand in his that I had left hanging for a couple seconds longer than necessary.
“(Y/N) (L/N).” I said, shaking his hand.
His handshake was firm just as you’d expect. He offered me a small nod before he continued talking.
“I wanted you to know that your little boy has some serious talent.” Aaron complimented, crossing his arms against his chests. I couldn’t help but notice how this man's muscles flexed as he did.
“Thank you, Aaron. Don’t tell that to him though, his ego could not handle it.” I joked, surprised when my joke earned a light chuckle from the man in front of me.
I had never expected such a serious individual to laugh at such a bad joke. Maybe he was all bark no bite? We continued on making conversation until the other parents started flooding in. Before I knew it the game had passed and the whole time I had only been gawking at Aaron. I’m pretty sure he didn’t feel the way I looked at him as he was way too focused on the soccer game to see anything else that was happening. Once the kids had celebrated the goals they scored Peyton came rushing towards me. He practically jumped up into my lap before his energy vanished.
“You tired, Pey?” I hummed into his hair as I kissed his head.
The only thing I heard from him was a big yawn, I pulled out the lunch box and water from my bag. Handing him the water while I opened and got half a sandwich for him. He happily took it from me while still clinging onto me.
“You did really well out there today,” I praised him while watching over the other parents getting ready to leave. “Did you have fun?” I pulled back to look at him.
He nodded while taking another big bite of his sandwich. I stood up once he finished his sandwich. I knew he’d probably fall asleep in the car and then proceed to take a nap when we got home. I closed the water bottle and lunchbox and packed it away then took my son’s hand in mine. We started walking to the car and as we were almost off the field Aaron said goodbye to us. I smiled and said my goodbyes while Peyton waved at him and Jack.
A week went by until another Saturday soccer game. This time I arrived at the same time as the rest of the parents. I had brought my own camping chair to sit on and the usual stuff for Peyton. I set up my chair and put down my bag before walking over to Aaron with Peyton beside me. He had brought a friend with him and it seemed like he was coaching by the way the kids were starting to gather around the two adults.
“Got a promotion?” I asked, making Aaron turn around to look at me.
“Is it that obvious?” He questioned with a smirk.
“To the parents who don’t just look at their phones, yes. You brought a friend?”
“Uh, yeah. (Y/N), this is David Rossi. My help with the coaching.” Aaron introduced his co-worker.
“Think of it as a package deal.” Rossi joked playfully, earning a giggle from me.
“Good luck with the kids, guys.” I smiled brightly at them before turning to my son. “Do good out there now Pey!”
“I will mommy!” He exclaimed encouragingly before I gave him a high five.
Peyton did awfully good in this soccer game too, it always warmed my heart so much to see how happy this sport made him. It also warmed my heart to see how engaged Aaron was in coaching, how he yelled out to the kids what to do and how he did it was just perfect. The man was perfect at doing anything. My son and Jack's team had won again (even though they didn’t keep score, I did). Aaron and Rossi cheered them on and told them how good they’ve played. They then called out for them to do the ‘tunnel’. Usually I stood up and did it but as Aaron was standing facing me with his hands in the hair against Rossi’s, I felt how it began to tingle in my lower stomach as the wind made his t-shirt blow up a bit so that I could see his lower abdomen. This man did things to me by just laughing along with the kids while unintentionally flashing some skin due to the windy weather.
After the tunnel was over my son came rushing over to me with the biggest grin on his face. I could see by miles that there was something he wanted to ask me, it was obvious by the wave he smiled uncontrollably.
“Mommy…” he began, putting on his best puppy dog eyes.
“Yes, Peyton?” I smiled at him.
“Can we go with Jack to get some ice cream?” he asked, it took me a second to process just who was coming alongside Jack. “Pleaseeeee!”
“Yeah, sure buddy…” I huffed, hoping that Rossi also was coming along.
It’s not that I didn’t want to hangout with Aaron, it’s just the way that he looked at me made me both aroused and nervous. I didn’t know for how much longer I could behave around him, but as long as the kids were around I wasn’t worried. When you have a seven year old, you need to always keep an eye out for them and then you don’t have time to drool over some guy.
I took Peyton’s hand in mine and began walking towards Aaron once I had packed up my stuff. He gave me a small nod before we walked to the parking lot together. Once we got to our cars, Rossi said his goodbyes and I immediately questioned;
“You’re not coming?”
He shook his head and smiled. “No, I have errands to run unfortunately… next time though.”
I nodded and got into my car, completely missing out on the look Aaron shot Rossi’s way. He knew that Rossi was lying, he had already told him that there wasn’t anything going on between him and (Y/N). But Rossi called bullshit on that and decided to try and do a little match making of his own.
While we were on the way to the ice cream shop, I was following Aaron’s car. He was such a gentleman in that way, showing me the way. It was like when a man in an old romance movie took a lady’s hand and led her somewhere. I took this advantage of mine and called out for my son;
“Peyton?”
“Yes, mommy?” he asked from the back, his small voice barely heard over the engine and other cars passing by.
“Do you like Jack? It seems like you guys are becoming good friends.” I smiled at him in the rearviewmirror.
“Yeah, he’s really nice! I like him a lot, he’s almost my best friend.” Peyton informed me, feeding me all the information I wanted to hear.
“Who’s your best friend if he’s not?” I furrowed my eyebrows at him.
“You, mommy.”
“Aww,” I looked lovingly at him. “Well you should invite Jack over sometime honey.” I offered to him softly, watching as his face lit up.
“Really?” He asked excitedly.
I nodded and smiled earning an even bigger smile from the little boy in the back. We had arrived at the shop and went inside, the boys were looking at all the different flavors and debating with each other on which one was the best to get while standing in line. Aaron and I stood behind watching the kids in awe, to every other person in the room we seemed like a regular family.
“You didn’t do the tunnel today.” He suddenly spoke up beside me.
“Pardon?” I asked with a confused smile.
“You always join in when we do the tunnel, but you didn’t today.” Aaron clarified and I wondered how he had noticed such a small detail.
“Oh, I was just so caught up in watching Peyton having fun that I kinda missed it, I guess…” I explained while shrugging.
It wasn’t all a lie, I couldn’t tell him that the main reason why was because I had been too busy gawking at the man I was currently making conversation with.
“You did a really good job today coaching. All of the kids absolutely adore you.” I complimented him, earning a small smile.
“I’m glad to hear that, so you think I’m improving the team?” He smirked playfully.
If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was trying to flirt with me. But I was convinced I was just making something up in my head.
“Oh, absolutely.” I agreed. “If they were keeping scores your team definitely would’ve won, coach.” I joked back at him, fist bumping his shoulder at the last word making him chuckle.
His smile was dangerous from how alluring it was. When he wasn’t wearing the facial expression that made you think he was gonna rip you apart, (he looked like that during parent meetings) he actually seemed so sweet and harmless. My best guess is that he is just a big teddy bear. I couldn’t help but wanting to get closer to him, he was so beautiful and understanding. Everything Peyton’s biological dad wasn’t. Although, I didn’t want to ruin this friendship for Peyton, so I kept my hands to myself. Promising myself that I wouldn’t ever act on this for my son’s sake.
While we ate the ice cream, Peyton had asked Aaron if Jack could come over sometime. The two boys immediately started begging Aaron to let him come over, before answering he looked over at me and searched for my approval. I offered a small smile and nodded that it was okay. That’s how we scheduled the first of many play dates between Jack and Peyton. It was set up for friday afternoon after school and I was going to pick both of them up when their day was over.
It was wednesday and Aaron was out on a case with the team, investigating a serial killer that went after local (Y/H/C) haired women. Since these women all had the same hair colors as the woman who’s recently been getting in contact with his son, Aaron saw it as the perfect opportunity to find out if he wanted Jack to go over to her house. He picked up his phone, even though he knew it was wrong, and dialed the one person he knew couldn’t catch him in a lie.
“Garcia?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I need you to check a potential victim for me, her name is (Y/N) (L/N).” Aaron lied to Penelope, but he needed to know who he was letting his son get close to.
“Uh, there’s nothing here that sticks out really… except that she wasn’t born in the area that you’re in.” Penelope said.
“Criminal records?” He couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it was highly unlikely.
“None, sir.”
“Alright, thank you Garcia.”
Once he hung up and turned around he closed his eyes and cursed himself mentally. Rossi stood behind him with his arms crossed and a disappointed look plastered over his features.
“Really, Aaron?” he asked. “That woman is harmless. I’ve met her, besides, you know it yourself, she’s a total sweetheart.”
Aaron sighed and nodded to signalize that he knew that but both men knew exactly why he couldn’t help himself. He walked past Rossi and back to the rest of the team who were discussing the new clues they’d gotten.
I pulled up to the school on friday, smiling as I saw the two small boys running towards my car in excitement. They got inside of a side each on the car and I waited until they had buckled up their seatbelts. I had gotten an extra booster seat for Jack so that they’d be riding in the car securely. The two were so caught up in discussing what they were gonna do when they got to our house that they forgot to greet me. I was fine with that though, as long as I got to watch them be so happy.
The several hours that passed before Aaron came to pick up Jack around 6PM felt like ten minutes. The boys’ laughter had been heard throughout the house every single minute they’d spent inside it. Now here I stood face to face with Aaron who had his suit on him. I’d never seen him in his work clothes before but he was sexier than usual. The boys were cleaning up in Peyton’s room, therefore I had invited Aaron inside. So here we were inside of the house in front of the front door, the staircase beside us.
“Has Jack been good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow which I laughed at lightly.
“Yes, of course. He’s a total sweetheart.” I smiled at him while putting my hand to my chest. “They’ve been giggling like crazy ever since I picked them up at school.”
Aaron smiled at me. “I’m glad to hear that… Jack is more confident around Peyton, he isn’t much of a talker normally.”
“I guess they really enjoy each other’s company then… Peyton talks a lot, it’s kinda a bad habit of his.” I confessed making Aaron nod a bit at me with a soft smile.
Just then the boys came rushing down the stairs, they practically flew down as they ran.
“No running on the stairs!” Both me and Aaron scolded at the same time making both the children stop like a deer caught in headlights.
“Sorry,” was heard from both of them.
A month had passed since Jack had been over at my house, since then he’d slept over once on the weekend after that week. Then Peyton went over to Aaron's place also and spent the night there. But they were mostly at my house since Aaron worked quite a lot.
It was now another friday afternoon and around 5PM my doorbell rang. I walked towards the front door with Peyton following me like a tail. He and I knew exactly who were on the other side of that door. Me and Aaron had scheduled another sleepover for the boys because of how much time they liked to spend together. I had heard from two teachers at the elementary school they went to that Peyton and Jack had hung out a lot more. The boys were basically inseparable.
I opened the door to find Aaron standing there in a typical dad sweater and jeans with his hand on Jack's shoulder. The minute the two children made eye contact their energy went from zero to a hundred.
“Hi!” I smiled brightly at Jack then looked over at Aaron. “Nice to see you again.”
“Hi Miss (L/N).” Jack smiled widely, filled with excitement.
“Come on in guys, Peyton’s been impatiently waiting ever since we left school.” I chuckled softly, earning a death stare from my son.
Aaron also stepped through the door and handed his son the bag he had currently been carrying. “Be good now, Jack.”
Jack nodded rapidly with a huge grin on his face when all of a sudden his father’s phone began ringing. He looked down at who was calling then quickly excused himself and went outside onto the front porch again. By the way he closed the front door behind him and the slight frown on his face, I could tell that whatever he was going to be told wasn’t good.
“Oh no,” Jack said while frowning.
“What is it honey?” I asked concerned.
“He probably has to work.” The little boy said with a pair of puppy dog eyes as if he thought I could do something about it.
“What?” Peyton questioned sadly. “That’s not fair!”
“Boys, calm down. We don’t know anything for sure. Let’s not speculate…” I convinced them, but by the way Jack reacted to his father’s body language convinced me that he actually would have to leave for work.
When he came back inside we all stood waiting for him. Aaron bent down and looked Jack in the eyes sympathetically.
“Jack, buddy. I’m sorry but I got called in on a case. You’ll have to stay over some other time… now we gotta get you to aunt Jessica.” He explained and frowned at the huff of disappointment Jack left out.
“No! I wanna stay here!” he argued.
“You know that you can’t do that Jack… I will probably be gone the whole weekend and even on monday.” Aaron continued on frowning at his son, seeing how unhappy this made him.
My mom-heart hurt for the two boys knowing how unhappy it would make them to have this sleepover that had been planned for two weeks taken away from them. I couldn’t help myself before I had proposed;
“He could stay here the whole weekend and until monday… I wouldn’t mind and I don’t think Peyton would either. Besides, he has already brought clothes and a toothbrush.”
Aaron looked up at me and it felt like he was inspecting my whole body from the way he looked at me. I could tell he didn’t exactly like the thing I’d proposed and he stood up straight again as the boys began pleading him to let Jack stay over. Before saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’ he turned to me.
“Could I talk with you for a minute privately, (Y/N)?” He asked, his tone laced with something that I didn’t know what it was. It sounded serious, aggressive, soft, concerning and seductive all at once.
“Yeah, of course.” I agreed and by the way he looked at me it felt as if I had the scolding of the year waiting for me. “You boys stay here, alright?”
“Okay…” they both sighed before plopping down onto the second step of the stairs.
As we entered the kitchen I slightly leaned onto the kitchen island behind me while Aaron stood with his arms crossed in front of me. The next things to come out of his mouth weren’t at all what I thought he would say. I’d been imagining on my way in here that he would begin to scold me but that wasn’t the case. Instead he told me;
“Look, I couldn’t possibly ask you to have Jack for an entire weekend, and possibly on Monday or even longer. He’s not your responsibility and it costs money to take care of an additional child… him and Peyton are usually pretty loud while playing and it might be hard to get them in bed by bedtime… I don’t know... I don’t want to put that much responsibility on you.”
“Aaron, listen. It’s not a month he’s going to be staying here. Besides, I am financially independent enough to care for two children for half a week. I really like having Jack here, he’s an extremely nice kid. It’ll be fine and I’ll take good care of him, I promise.” I reasoned with him watching how he chewed his bottom lip in thought.
He wasn’t doubting his trust for you, it was just that so many things could go wrong for example if Jack fell and scraped his knee. Then you’d think that he was mad at you when he wouldn’t be. He just didn’t want anything to possibly mess up this friendship of yours.
After a minute of silence Aaron agreed on letting Jack stay over. “Just call me if anything goes wrong or you need anything. Okay?”
“Yeah, I will. Now go to work Aaron.” I ushered him out of the kitchen back to the kids who were sitting on the stairs, Jack showing up a new toy he’d brought along.
“Okay guys, good news… you can stay over until your father comes back, Jack.” I informed and in a heartbeat the two boys jumped up and down in excitement before hurrying up to Peytons room, shouting thank you’s from the top of the stairs.
“Promise me to call if there’s any problem and don’t be afraid to ask me if you want money for Jack’s food-” Aaron began rambling but cut himself off when he felt my hand on his bicep.
He glanced quickly at my hand then into my eyes. The words I was going to say were long gone as his gaze made me melt on the spot. With my knees weak I gathered up enough sense for me to form words.
“Relax, Aaron…” I mumbled, looking into his eyes then slowly sliding my hand further down his arm until it completely left his body.
He took a small step forward and I felt myself shrink in size as his gaze got more intense.
“Promise me…” he whispered, his eyes shamelessly glancing over all of my features.
“I promise.” I answered in the same low tone, I wasn’t quite sure exactly what it was I was promising anymore as this felt way beyond his son.
Aaron pressed his lips into a thin line for a second when he realized what was happening and stepped back. Even though how close he was standing wasn’t enough for (Y/N) to feel his breath fanning onto her skin, it was enough for the tension to build between them. Like he had said before he didn’t want anything to screw up your friendship so he said goodbye as he usually did then took his leave.
The weekend went by fast and Aaron had texted me on Saturday night to tell me that he was hoping to get done with work tomorrow. Then, on Sunday afternoon I got a text that said that he was going to have to work Monday too, I told him that it was okay and I understood. Although, I could feel his guilt through the phone. Monday rolled by fast and he texted around five that they were done with the case and they would board the jet in an hour or so. The flight was long though since he was all the way across the country. Therefore I wasn’t surprised by the sharp knocks that were heard from the front door around eleven while I was sitting in the living room. Aaron knocked softer than usual because he knew the kids were asleep and didn’t want to wake them even though they were all the way upstairs. I tied my kimono over my nightgown and walked towards the front door.
When I opened my front door, I found Aaron standing outside with his suit on. His tie was a mess indicating that he’d undone sometime on his way back from the case. It occurred that every time I saw this man in a new type of clothing or just his tie untied he’d become sexier than usual. And he was extremely sexy. I cursed myself again for being so easily affected, feeling how my breath got caught in my throat.
“Hey…” Aaron sighed tiredly. “How are you doing?”
“Hi Aaron,” I smiled softly at him. “I’m doing good, how are you?” I asked him concerned. The poor man looked as if he hadn’t slept for days.
“I’m fine (Y/N).” He reassured me just as if he could see that I was worried about him.
Come to think about it, he could probably tell because of what he does for a living. He’d told me he was a fbi-agent but not much of what he does. I guess cops are good at body language and such things.
“Are you sure? You look exhausted Aaron, come on in by the way.” I moved aside watching him carefully while he stepped inside.
“I’m fine, I promise.” This time he was the one placing his hand onto my arm. “How has it gone with the boys?”
“Oh, they’ve been great. Such sweethearts are what they are… when you have them for longer than a day they actually get quieter and quieter. We watched a movie together and I read for them. We’ve done all kinds of stuff actually.” I started smiling while babbling through the memories I'd made with them this past weekend.
“I’m glad to hear that you’ve had fun together.” Aaron smiled genuinely, removing his hand from me. “I’m just going to go and get Jack then we’ll be out of your hair. Thank you for taking such good care of him (Y/N).”
He turned to his side and began walking to the stairs when I once again couldn’t keep my mouth shut and just had to continue on inviting people to stay over at my house.
“Aaron! Hold on.” I grabbed onto his arm making him immediately stop and his turn to look at me wonderingly. “Why don’t you just stay over this night? It’s a shame to wake the boys up, they’ve been asleep since eight o’clock and you can stay over in the guest room.”
He looked taken back by my suggestion, he was probably wondering why I kept on being so good to him and offering kind gestures.
“I really don’t want to be a burden (Y/N), I mean Jack’s already been here until monday night.”
“You’re not! Aaron, I really enjoy having you and Jack here.” I smiled, rubbing my thumb against his bare skin where the arm of his suit jacket ended. This action made him look deeper into my eyes than before, the look he was giving me made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Have you brought along any clothes from your work trip?” I gulped nervously, his ways of just staring at me making me want to giggle as a school girl.
He nodded shortly before excusing himself to go get them. In a matter of thirty seconds he was back inside my house again. I nodded with my head for him to follow along to the guest bedroom. He walked closely behind me on our way up the stairs, this action making me feel both nervous and secure. Nervous because he was so close to me and secure because I felt like if someone were to try and attack me in my own home tonight, Aaron would be there to protect me with his life.
I entered the room alongside Aaron and told him that he could wash up in the guest bathroom and I’d go get sheets to make the bed with. To be fully honest I hadn’t had anyone sleeping in here for a long time therefore the bed wasn’t made. I came back inside the room a minute later and Aaron was still in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Making beds was always a struggle for me, having to crawl over the whole thing while trying to put on the sheets. Bed making is one of those tasks that I’d rather leave to someone else. Just when I had crawled off the double bed Aaron exited the bathroom. He was wearing a pair of dark blue checkered pajama pants along with a white t-shirt, and shit… he looked even sexier like this. I mumbled that I had finished setting up before heading towards the door.
“Thanks again, for everything.” Aaron suddenly thanked me with a soft voice.
I looked over my shoulder and offered him a smile. “Sleep well, Hotchner.”
The next morning I woke up early and had already gotten ready around six. I stood in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone, waffles to be exact. I had learned that waffles is a favorite starter of the day with the two little boys. The clock was almost seven when Aaron came into the kitchen, fully dressed and fixed in his suit and he looked like he’d slept well. He seemed to be an early bird just like me, I knew it was more of a parenting thing instead of something you’d do voluntarily.
“Morning.” I smiled at him while stirring the batter.
He nodded at me briefly. “Anything I can help with?”
“Oh, uh, yes actually! You can get the orange juice ready, it’s one of those that needs to be blended with water.” I instructed him, pointing towards the refrigerator.
He got the package from the fridge then looked completely lost. I now understood he needed a jug.
“Oh sorry, let me get a jug out for you.” I apologized quietly before opening the kitchen cabinet, which was way out of my reach.
I stood on my toes, grunting as I tried to reach it. Aaron watched me struggle for a moment and when he realized I wouldn’t be able to get it down he stepped in.
“Let me get that for you.” He said before walking up close behind me.
I felt his strong and tall figure reaching over me, consuming my shadow with his own in a second. I felt the warmth of his body against mine when our bodies collided for a second or two. I looked down onto the ground and felt my cheeks heat up.
“Thank you…” I mumbled awkwardly after he stepped back from me again.
We continued on making breakfast normally after that except that we didn’t say another word. I guess what I had felt he had too, it had always been there, it was just more intense now. It took everything for me not to let him absolutely ravish me on my kitchen counter like a slut, right here, right now.
By now the boys had woken up by themselves. Both Aaron and I heard them rushing down the stairs, guessing they’d smelled the waffles. When they stepped into the kitchen Jack's eyes immediately lit up.
“Daddy!” he exclaimed happily before rushing towards his father.
Aaron happily scooped Jack up and gave him a kiss on the forehead before holding him close telling him how much he’d missed him.
“I hope you boys are hungry.” I singsang from where I was standing, making Peyton jump onto his seat at the table.
Aaron had set the table nicely, the two boys sitting on a side together leaving him and I to sit beside each other. The three boys sat down and waited for me to serve the food. I walked up with waffles stacked on a plate, handing out one each to the boys before taking a seat. I poured the juice into their cups while Aaron helped open the maple syrup. Once they had begun eating and we could dig in, I missed how he looked over at me. Watching me with love in his eyes, this had been a feeling Aaron had missed. The feeling of family, the feeling of belonging together. He soon realized that he might have some feelings for you, although he’d been in denial about it since he first felt it. Everything about you was perfect, you were kind, responsible, funny and the way you acted around the kids is so wholesome and domestic. You were the perfect wife material in his eyes.
As I cleaned up in the kitchen the kids were brushing their teeth before they would be driven to school by Aaron, he had offered so kindly to drive them since I’ve had them the entire weekend. He also kept telling me that he would ‘make it up to me’, I wasn’t completely sure what he meant by that but all I knew was that he was in fact a man of his word.
What Aaron had meant by making it up to me occurred to be that he hosted sleepovers for the boys on the weekends for the three months that had gone by. I asked him to let me host the sleepover after the first two he’d had but he refused, now he’d had Peyton over at his house five weekends in three months. It seemed that he wanted to continue on this way until I got a call from him on this particular Friday morning. Peyton and Jack had a sleepover scheduled for tonight and the dilemma was that Aaron had been called in on a case. This time instead of not being completely onboard with Jack staying over for a few days, he was the one proposing the question.
It had become a routine for the one sleeping over on a friday to bring along his bag to school. It took away the pleasure for me to be able to see Aaron but I’d still see him when he came to pick his son up. It felt okay to only see him then because they still had the soccer games he was coaching at and it had become a regular thing for you to bring him and Rossi coffee every saturday. Rossi saw the way you two looked at each other and tried to talk Aaron into making a move on you but he only dismissed his colleagues suspicions.
Over the time that had passed, I realized that I’d become worried for Aaron everytime I knew he was out on a case. You see, he’d opened up more to me about what he exactly does. It only then occurred to me just how dangerous his job was, although I knew he could handle it. I mean… look at the man!
It felt to me as if Jack was becoming my second son. Not because of the amount he had spent over at my house, it was also due to the fact of how much time I spent with him, Peyton and Aaron. We’d go out and eat at restaurants together, we even celebrated Peytons birthday together. I mean it felt a lot as if we were a family, the only issue was that I’d never confess my undying love for Aaron Hotchner.
The weekend Jack spent over passed by fast, the three of us played games. I taught them how to play jenga, but it wasn't anywhere near a favorite with them. They thought it was pretty boring and instead ran off to play outside. It was now Sunday afternoon when Aaron rang the doorbell he’d installed for me, turns out he was quite handy too. There wasn’t one thing about him I disliked.
When you opened the door you smiled at Aaron with that exact smile that always caused his heart to melt. You weren’t like any woman he had ever met before and he loved every part of you. You stepped forward to bring him into a quick embrace, from how close you’d grown it wasn’t a weird thing. The only weird thing about it was that none of you wanted to let go, the hug was a few seconds long for just having friendly intentions.
I rubbed my palms against the fabrics of my jeans and nodded at him once we’d pulled away from each other. Aaron stepped inside the house and closed the door gently behind him, as he always did even if he was in a hurry. I’d never once witnessed him slam a door.
“Jack, honey! Your father’s here!” I shouted up the stairs hearing the faint footsteps starting to walk around the room.
Both Aaron and I knew that meant the boys were cleaning up the toys they’d been playing with. It is constantly something new every single week, last week they were pirates, now they are firefighters. But the all-time favorite was being cops, both of the two looked up to Aaron. They thought he was a superhero, Jack had influenced Peyton to believe so at first and then when he heard Aarons stories about work, he was convinced that Jack’s dad was in fact, a superhero.
The next week went by as regular, I worked and worked and worked. Then the week after that I had gained a day off on Thursday. Everything passed by as usual until that Thursday when I had my day off. It was a windy and gray day outside, no rain had erupted from the sky yet but by the looks of it it was about to happen any second. The clock was somewhere around the middle of the day meaning that Peyton was in school. I had just finished up some laundry when the doorbell rang, my eyebrows furrowed in thought. I had no idea who could show up at my house at this time of day.
As I opened the door I was met by Aaron, he had a troubled look on his face and was dressed in his normal work clothes. Something had clearly happened from the way he was looking at me.
“Hey (Y/N), I’m sorry for coming over without a warning…” Aaron sighed heavily. “Can I talk to you inside for a minute? Please?”
He had known she’d be home because he knew everything about her. Everything and every side of herself she’d shown or taught him, he remembered. Last week when she was picking up Peyton from a play date at his place she’d mentioned her day off and said that she looked forward to it, since her job was killing her at the moment. Her boss had been stressing the life out of her, he wanted to help her but there wasn’t anything he could possibly do.
“Yeah, of course. Are you alright?” I asked out of concern, I couldn’t even help it by now the question just slipped out naturally. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” I wondered while he stepped through the door.
“No, I’m good, thank you.”
“Aaron, you’re clearly upset, let me at least get you something to drink…” I plead wanting to do anything to make him feel better.
He nodded and mumbled an ‘okay’ before following me into the kitchen. I had previously made coffee, so I grabbed a mug and poured it up for him. Making it exactly the way he enjoys it the most. Aaron scratched at the handle of the mug while staring down at the kitchen island, he knew he had to say something but didn’t know where to start. There were so many things he wanted, no need to say before he left your house today.
Aaron had one hand placed flat against the marble worktop and the other with his fingers rubbing his temple. He had started saying anything until you placed your hand on top of his, grabbing onto it. He looked deep into your eyes, seeing your worry for him. You’d never once witnessed him like this and it made you nervous to say the least.
“I’m going away…” he sighed and my eyes widened.
A million questions began running through my head at the same time but only one managed to slip past my lips;
“What?”
“It’s work…” he sighed, taking a hold of your hand as well. “I’ve been assigned to temporary duty with an investigative task force in Pakistan.” Only now Aaron dares to look up into your eyes and he can see that a dozen questions are running through your brain.
“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?” I questioned him.
“I left as soon as I could to tell you…” he confessed and it surprised me. He’d left work just to be able to tell me that he was going away. “I don’t know why (Y/N), it felt right.”
“Well, how long are you going to be gone for? Who’s going to take care of Jack?” I hadn’t noticed myself that I had started tearing up, I had no idea why this was so emotional.
As soon as Aaron saw the tears threatening to spill from my eyes he stood up and hovered over me. I backed further up against the kitchen island until he was standing over me. His body was merely a couple of centimeters away from him. I felt his hands cup my cheeks and he continued on looking into my eyes intensely.
“It could be anything from two weeks to a couple of months, I was hoping maybe you and Jessica could have Jack for a week each… I know you’re not his mother or anything, it's just that he likes you so much and feels safe with you that I wouldn't rather have him anywhere else.” Aaron explained in a soft tone, wiping the tear that fell from my eye with his thumb.
“Yeah, of course I can have Jack here… it’s just… Do you have to leave?” My voice broke asking the question.
He nodded, bringing me into a tight hug, soothingly rubbing my back with his hand. He told me that he was going to be fine and I didn’t doubt that it’s just that I didn’t want to be away from him that long. I felt pathetic because I felt that way. Why? It was the fact that he and I weren’t even together or anything and I still cared this much that he was going away for weeks. I had no idea if the thing he was going to do was dangerous or not, in case it was… I had to get out everything I was feeling for him. I couldn’t risk him dying and never knowing what I’ve been feeling for him all because I am afraid.
“I- I think I love you, Aaron…” I whispered into his chest carefully.
I didn’t want to pull away from this secure embrace, we were holding onto each other as if it was the last time we ever could. He still had his arms wrapped around me as he pulled back a bit in surprise.
“What did you say…?” Aaron questioned, wondering if he had just imagined the words that had left her lips in a whisper.
“I said, I think I love you, Aaron.” I looked up at him while speaking softly.
My hands around his waist were loosening up for each second passing, his arms left around my shoulder then cupped my cheeks once again. “I love you too, (Y/N).”
Those were the last words I heard before my hearing went numb and I felt my legs give out. I thought my heart would explode from how fast it was beating when I saw Aaron lean in slowly. He stopped right in front of my lips, just barely brushing them with his own. I felt his breath on my face, both of us breathing heavily just hoping for that kiss to happen. We shut our eyes and that’s when it happened, the first kiss. It felt like I was in a movie, I felt my entire body melt into his touch as the first kiss was soft.
I brought my hands up to his neck when we broke apart after the first kiss. We opened our eyes to look at each other and our gazes had changed drastically. Now we only saw lust and desire. Aaron’s hands quickly found my thighs and helped me up onto the kitchen island meanwhile he connected our lips into a rough kiss. He stood in between my legs and pulled me towards him as our kisses grew sloppy and hot.
Aaron soon enough moved down onto my neck and began nipping, sucking and biting. My hips rolled against him in search for friction and he pressed me against his growing erection. I moaned when he found my sweet spot and began placing kisses there, his rough stubble tickling my sensitive skin. After a while he began kissing his way up to my lips again. My hands roamed his clothed chest as he groped my ass and continued on pressing me against him.
“I need you.” I whispered in between sloppy kisses. “Take me upstairs Aaron.”
His wish was my command, he put his hand under my thighs and grabbed me off the counter. Not breaking our kiss once he began walking towards the stairs. When Aaron accidentally bumped me against the railing I couldn’t help but to throw my head back slightly while I giggled. he immediately latched his lips onto my throat, once again finding my sweet spot as he made his way up the stairs.
After he swung my bedroom door open there was no going back. Aaron threw me down onto the bed and then crawled onto the bed himself. He separated my legs to then place his hand against my cloth covered core while he got on top of me. I moaned into his ear when he applied pressure to my clit with his thumb through my pants. I bucked my hips against his hand wanting more friction, Aaron had his mouth kissing all the exposed parts of my chest listening to every sound I made.
He then slowly pulled my shirt off before kissing at all the new flesh he could come into contact with. Although, he waited with taking off my bra. I could tell extra much now that Aaron was a man with a lot of patience and if he wanted to he could easily turn me into a begging mess. I started tugging onto his hair to make him go somewhere more useful, either up or down it didn’t matter. He easily noticed how fast I was growing impatience and looked up at me with mischief in his eyes.
“You haven’t had a man taken care of you for a while, have you?” Aaron smirked, teasing me.
“Please…” I started to beg, trying to thrust down onto his hand. “Please, Aaron.”
“Please what?” His hand trailed from between my legs to my face, caressing my skin along the way.
“I need you… right now.”
From those words I saw the look in his eyes darken even more than before. He then without another word tugged my pants off of me and then snapped my bra open. I shivered feeling his fingertips dance against my soft skin while he slid my bra off me. Immediately, Aaron gripped onto my breast with one hand, mouth getting to work on the other. His other hand caressed my stomach slowly going further and further down, his actions taking my breath away and letting butterflies erupt in my stomach in a way I'd never felt before.
He ran his finger along the edge of my underwear before slipping his hand inside. Aaron licked in between my tits before kissing upwards towards my mouth. Once our lips had connected he slid one of his digits inside of me, his hand that had previously been groping my breast was now on my hip pressing me further down onto the bed. The kiss we shared silenced the gasp that left me, he started fucking me with his finger slowly, getting me ready for another one. I had my hands on his back, pressing him closer and closer against me.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Aaron mumbled against my lips and I could hear the moan that left my mouth at his words.
While he continued on slowly pumping in and out of me with his finger I took off his suit jacket. He let me easily slide it off while he continued on kissing me roughly, I then began unbuttoning his shirt after undoing his tie. Aaron removed his hand from my hip and quickly slid out of me to remove the remaining clothing on his upper body. He wasted no time once they were off to get back inside me, this time two fingers at the same time. I gripped onto the sheets and arched my back feeling the stretch from just his fingers. Aaron smirked at me while he watched me moan and cry out for him to finger me faster.
Truth to be told was that I hadn’t been touched from what I could remember since Peyton was born, I never found time too. And I didn’t have his dad around to love me either since he took off the moment he found out I was pregnant.
This time when Aaron leaned down to my level he started leaving marks across my chest, biting down onto the sensitive skin around my nipple. His other hand had found its old place on my hip, holding my body in place. I grinded down onto his fingers, wanting more and more by each second that passed.
I audibly whimpered when I felt Aaron starting to thrust his fingers into me harder with the same steady pace as before. He had sped up a tiny bit but was going harder on me. I took my hand and caressed his cheek making him look at me.
“Come on…” I moaned, feeling how he didn’t stop curling his fingers instead of me for a second. “Up here…”
He obeyed and positioned himself with his head hovering over mine, still with his fingers buried deep inside of me. I dug my nails into the back of his neck and pressed my lips rough against his. Aaron sped up his pace with his fingers making me moan even louder. He was getting me ready for him, I knew that he knew I hadn’t been with a man for a long time. Mostly because I had confirmed it about ten minutes ago but also because he had studied me before and my body language around him. I was insecure of what the right move was as if I'd forgotten how to behave around a man, he knew that he made you nervous and he’d be lying if he didn’t confess that it turned him on quite a bit.
“Aaron…” I begged within a long and loud moan. “I’m ready for you.” I began fiddling with his belt, trying to get it open with my shaking hand.
My whole body had become putty from his touches, I wanted to finish with him not from his fingers. I wanted to be one with him, he was leaving after all. I had no idea when but he was, all that mattered right now though was to be able to spend a night (or day) with him.
I felt how his fingers slowly slipped out of me and he freed his belt from his trousers. His hard-on painfully obvious through his slacks. I bit down on my lip while I watched him undo his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers revealing his size to me. I almost gulped nervously at the size of it. For a man that size he sure is humble about it, most men would be bragging but Aaron was different. More mature and grown.
He then slipped his fingers under the fabric of my panties on each side before gently and sensually sliding them off my body. My thighs smacked together once my legs were free from his hands, searching for any kind of friction and release they could get. Aaron then put a hand each on my thighs and pressed them apart, getting a look at my cunt. He bit down on his lower lip as he pumped his erection twice.
For a final time he got on top of me, this time lining himself up at my entrance. I immediately wrapped my legs around him, allowing more access to let him do whatever he wants to me. My arms were wrapped around his back, hands resting at his shoulder blades. Aaron looked into my eyes and placed his hands on my hips, once again holding me down against the mattress. I threw my head back against the pillow feeling his tips entering me, then another inch and another. He kept going until his whole length was inside of me. My whole body shook and I breathed heavily while digging deep into his back with my fingernails. He gave me some time to adjust before almost completely sliding out of me.
Aarons breath was also shaking as he thrusted into me again. He pulled back and did it again, I moaned as he fucked me slow, at first, into the mattress. I didn’t think about the marks I left on his back by scratching down as hard as I did. While my nails dug into his back, his dug into my hips. We both just breathed shakily into each other's mouths, none having the power or self control to lean into a kiss.
“Please, faster…” I begged, looking straight into his eyes.
He almost moaned at the sight of me, begging for him. Aaron had been dreaming of this for such a long time and now he wanted nothing more than to please you better than you could ever dream of. He gripped on harder to your hips and steadied himself better on the bed by sitting up more, so any chance you had of kissing him was now gone. Aaron then began pounding away in and out of you. The pace he now had was at least four times quicker than the last one. For a man his age he was extremely well kept and physically fit. I gripped onto the sheets for dear life feeling how my entire body was on fire. My legs jerked as they were resting helplessly on the mattress.
I couldn’t help but to feel my eyes roll back into the place furthest back in my head from the insane amount of pleasure Aaron was providing for me. He had the capability to hold a steady rhythm like no other man I’d ever been with before. It was as if he’d known my body all his life, he also listened to what I wanted precisely and gave me exactly that.
“Harder! Aaron!” I arched my back feeling how he filled me up just perfectly.
He then took a hold of my legs and threw them over his shoulders, allowing him to go deeper into me. Aaron was losing his self control, he began pounding animalistically and his thrusts were brutal. He showed no mercy now and my thighs weren’t there to stop his hips from slamming into my skin anymore. I could feel how his entire length disappeared into me then came back out to even more brutally slam back in.
“Oh my gosh!” I cried out, my hands trying to find something to desperately hold onto as my body now flew into the mattress with every thrust that I received from Aaron.
I bit down on my lip harshly to contain the moans trying to force their way out of my mouth. I looked at Aaron, watching how his strong hands had my hips in a tight grip. My tits moved up and down with each thrust and each thrust getting me closer to my release. This felt way better than what I’d thought, Aaron pounding away on me like I belonged to him felt so much better than what I’d ever imagined. And I had imagined it a lot.
I heard Aaron moan for the first time when my walls squeezed him. His head dropped backwards and I had to whimper at the sight of him. How was it possible for someone to be so attractive?
“Shit sweetheart, do that again.” He groaned, feeling my walls clench around him again.
My legs shook while I felt a knot in my stomach, I knew I was close and by the looks of it he was too. Aaron’s hands traveled from my hips to my legs, where he could feel how they shook violently. He couldn’t help the smirk appearing on his face when he realized how good he was fucking you.
Aarons hands caressed my body while continuing to thrust into me violently, I couldn’t help but to cry out loudly feeling how I was almost over the edge now. He had complete control over me while I laid there being a helpless moaning mess.
I knew it was over for me the second Aaron pushed my legs forward and began angling his thrusts, fucking me even deeper. I felt the stretch on the underside of my legs and groaned at the feeling of it. I didn’t expect to be this flexible at this age and I don’t think Aaron did either from the deep rough moan that was heard from him. I could now reach for his arms that were holding onto the bed for support, one on the headboard and one beside my head. The whole bed was moving from how hard Aaron was going, slamming into the wall every now and then.
“Aaron!” I screamed, clawing at his arms leaving long, red stretch marks.
The next minute my head was literal mashed potatoes. I felt how the knot in my stomach untied and the intense feeling of pleasure spreading throughout my whole body. Witnessing me finish did it for Aaron, he thrusted roughly a few more times, riding out my orgasm before burying himself in me as deep as he could. I was so caught up in my own euphoria that the warm feeling of his seed filling me up almost went unnoticed.
After he finished and his dick softened and slowly slipped out of me, he released my legs from his devilish position. They shook aggressively as they hit the mattress, I laid there trying to catch my breath and think through what the hell just happened. My chest and neck had flushed from the intense orgasm. Aaron stroked his fingers against my outer thigh before moving towards the bathroom. He came back out a minute later and began cleaning me up, after he was done cleaning us both up he leaned down to kiss me softly.
“Sorry if I got a little carried away, did I hurt you in any way?” He moved strands of hair out of my face while asking gently.
“No, I’m fine.” I whispered, patting on the bed beside me.
Aaron got the message and laid down behind me, spooning with me. He kissed me behind my ear and after that we began having a more serious conversation about him going away and how to tell the children that we were now officially dating. And I was probably the future Mrs. Hotchner.
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The characters that I like and how they would refer to you if you were their lover
Warning, these are the characters that I like, that I have an interest in, so I will not be taking requests or anything
Alucard(Hellsing)
Depending on which version we are talking about(Official content or Abridged), Alucard is most definitely the type to call you his “lover” or “partner”, only saying “mate” when talking to vampires; like a feral monster animal thing. He does have his own lil nicknames/pet names that he will throw around to tease you or to show how not serious he is, ie: “pet”, “little one”, or sometimes “doll/toy”.
Abridged Alucard would most deny call you his boyfriend/girlfriend and some other deranged title that makes heads turn, ie: “Boy toy” or “Juice box”, only saving the sweet nicknames/pet names for private.
Ramattra(Overwatch 2)
100% would call you his partner. Not really one to use nicknames/pet names unless in private, even then they are pretty sweet and corny like “sweetheart” or “my love”. He would be a pretty dedicated omnic to you. He’s kinda hush hush with relationships cause of his line *ahem* work, as to not put you in the middle of it, but he does find time to call you sweet everythings when it’s just you and him.
Samuel Hayden/Samur Maykr(Doom 2016/ Eternal)
Don’t judge me for this one-
Mans will not ever call you any of those cute names, let’s get this straight. He would call you his “partner” or his “assistant”. Also another motherfucker that would hush hush about his personal relationship, but only cause he has an image to uphold. He would, every once in a while, would call you “love” or “dear” in extreme private. Not to say he wouldn’t be loving, man would love ya, but he’s just bug head man and likes to be in control of a lot of things.
Marauder(Doom Eternal)
Dont. Judge. Me.
Quick one: he would only call you his “mate”. Simple as that. Either it’s a demon thing or Sentinel Knight thing, that’s his only name for you…. Besides dirty pet names in bed-
Astarion(Baldur’s Gate 3)
We know this man will come up with all kinds of sweet names for you, “my love”, “my partner” all that jazz. Don’t know if the term boyfriend or girlfriend is a thing, but he would be the type to use it occasionally. He would absolutely be giddy and happy if ya returned the sweet names to him.
Gabriel(Ultrakill)
Final one- mainly cause I’m still consuming content of this game-
He would use the term “partner” a lot. Man’s formal a bit, so he doesn’t use that many. He will call you his “love” or his “light” when it’s just you two, but he’s a busy man with busy things…. Like trying to beat up robots-
#hellsing#overwatch#doom eternal#baldur's gate 3#ultrakill#ramattra#alucard hellsing#samuel hayden#Marauder doom#astarion#gabriel ultrakill#self insert#heheheheehehehe
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