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blkkizzat · 5 months ago
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@ 𝙭𝙓𝘿𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙂𝙤𝙙69𝙓𝙭 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮...
AND GOD KNOWS I'M TRYIN', BUT THERE'S JUST NO USE IN DENYING... ❤︎︎︎︎ THE OTAKU IS MINE ❤︎︎
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⏯︎︎ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER SERIES
bunny, how on earth did you end up dating this huge otaku nerd? urgh, you actually like him and match his freak too? and he buys you what?! omg! what will your friends think?!
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⏯︎︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘
𖦏 genre: college au
𖦏 ratings: 18+MDNI. unprotected, ecchi gojo, dubcon, cnc, bdsm, puppy play, public sex, creampies, spanking, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, edging, squirting, threesums, femdom, the ridiculous ass pervy pet names gojo gives you & reader is called 'bunny' in lieu of 'y/n'. each story will have warnings on its story page.
𖦏 pre register: comment to be tagged. i may not respond to everyone but rest assured if you comment you will be tagged!
𖦏 gamer's guide: all fics are listed in chronological order, but likely won't be written in chronological order. summaries subject to change slightly. they also will be written over time so please don't rush me for the next installment but feel free to ask me questions i love talking about this lil freak❤︎︎
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⏯︎︎ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:
𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟏: ❝ DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY! ❞
𖦏 your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? ⏯︎︎ plays: 13.3k
𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟐: ❝ STICKS N' STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT CHAINS N' WHIPS EXCITE ME! ❞
𖦏 so now that you have a filthy rich boyfie who is completely obsessed with you and has moved you into his house, you're winning, right? or you will be at least— if can survive a trip to the sex dungeon. don't worry it's professionally sanitized after each use! ...what? that's not what you're worried about? oh... ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress
𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟑: ❝ AND ALL OF THAT WAS OKAY, CAUSE IT WAS IN A 3-WAY!❞
𖦏 the three of you: you, gojo and geto are like peas in a pod, especially since its summer! and if two of you start f*cking in that pod well its only natural that the third want to join in, right? besides, you both already want to f*ck him. just make sure your current boyfie doesn't get too jealous from how hard you are moaning on your other besties' joystick. your only his ecchi angel, remember? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress
𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟒: ❝ IN THE BEDROOM I BE SCREAMIN', BUT OUTSIDE I KEEP IT QUIET—OR TRY TO AT LEAST!❞
𖦏 you can only keep your relationship underwraps from the rest of your friend group for so long. but you need to ease them into the idea first! although, when there's a yacht party for nanami's bday how is your uber clingy otaku boyfie supposed to keep his hands off of you when you're looking like the most perfect pervy princess in that itty bitty swimsuit? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress
𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟓: ❝ YEAH, HE MY MAN, HE WAS NEVER YO TYPE! ❞
𖦏 school is back! thankfully you somehow manage to instill some kind of decency into your otaku boyfie over the summer so he can come across as normal enough to make his own friends. but did you do too good of a job? wait, he actually has a lil rizz now? you mean you aren't the only girl attracted to him anymore... hol'up! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress
𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟔: ❝ MOVE IT UP, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, OH—SWITCH IT UP LIKE NINTENDO! ❞
𖦏 hey, when did you become freaker than your otaku boyfie? so he caught you touching yourself to his femdom p0rn when he came back early from a business trip? yikes! now he wants to try it out with you? don't worry you will do a great job training your new play puppy boyfie! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress
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⏯︎︎ 𝐃𝐋𝐂:
𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝐧𝐧𝐧: ❝PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ❞
𖦏 your loser otaku boyfie wants to take you to an anime convention and enter a couple's cosplay contest. you agree on one condition, he has to participate in No Nut November. Fair trade right? What could go wrong? ⏯︎︎ plays: 5079
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⏯︎︎ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒:
𖦏 soundtrack: [ x ] 𖦏 moodboards: [ lvl 1 ] 𖦏 amazing art by amazing readers: [ x ] 𖦏 faq/thirsts: [ x ]
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©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.︎︎
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dreamwritesimagines · 2 months ago
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Sunshine [7] - Heat Wave
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: There are many ways how a first date can end.
Word Count: 4400
CW: Explicit language, mentions of sex, drinking, adult themes MDNI
Series Masterlist
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A rational and emotionally mature person would know that drunk calls were normal, and the aftermath was inevitable. Drinking too much sometimes led to that, everyone knew, and a rational and emotionally mature person was supposed to just handle it with dignity.
Too bad you weren’t that person.
“So you’re avoiding the hot lumberjack?”
“Can we stop calling him that?”
You repressed a laugh and filled Nik’s cup with coffee.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m avoiding him,” you said. “It’s just…you know, I’m sure Logan is a very busy individual so if anything, I’m doing him a favor by not distracting him. For all we know, he could be on a mission right now. Do you really want him to die because he’s answering my call? I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.”
“Sunshine—”
“He could be saving the world,” you pointed out. “Do you want the world to end because he is answering my call? Do you want me to be the person who causes the extinction of the whole humankind? I mean honestly what am I, a tech CEO?”
“You’re so avoiding him.”
You heaved a sigh, then leaned against the counter.
“I texted him the next morning.”
“But you didn’t call him?”
“I can’t call him,” you whined. “I’ve made a fool of myself.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Nik said and you tilted your head at Jamie who was eating his breakfast.
“How are you being so quiet about this? I thought you’d be thrilled that I’m avoiding him.”
“I am but I can’t comment on this whole thing, I have a conflict of interest.”
“Conflict of interest?”
“Yeah I hate the guy’s guts,” he stated before nodding at you. “Keep avoiding him, you’re better off without him.”
Nik gasped. “Jamie!”
“Babe, that guy is a walking red flag.”
“Even if it were true, he also looks like he belongs on the cover page of those vintage romance books my grandma has in her library.”
“Fabio?!”
“I don’t know his name Jamie, but in Logan’s case I’ll allow a little red.” Nik stated. “It’s been years since she got laid.”
Your jaw dropped. “No it hasn’t!”
“I’m half scared she’ll join a convent,” Nik said, motioning in your direction and making you roll your eyes.
“Guys.”
“She’s not just going to get laid, she’s already talking about moving to the mountains with that asshole.”
“It’s not a mountain, it’s a cabin in the woods!” you argued and Jamie shrugged his shoulders.
“Whatever it is.”
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear from me after that night,” you said. “I mean I totally made a move on him and…”
“And he turned you down because you were drunk!” Nik said with a smile and Jamie made a face.
“That’s like the bare minimum, don’t get impressed by that.”
“And when he maimed three guys for her?”
“The least he could do, considering what they threatened her with. Should’ve killed them if you ask me.”
A shiver ran down your spine but you made yourself busy with the tablecloth, wiping at the counter while Nik raised his brows.
“Driving her home so that she wouldn’t walk in the rain? Fixing her car? Going all the way from school to her neighborhood because he was worried about her being drunk and outside?”
“What are we, keeping a list now?”
“Darling I know you’re very adamant about hating this guy but you do have to admit the things he’s been doing for her are the opposite of a red flag,” Nik said, patting his hand as if trying to console him and Jamie heaved a sigh.
“I hate this.”
“So you think I should call him?” you asked Nik and he nodded.
“You should.”
“I disagree.”
“Well aware of that Jamie.”
“I hate him.”
“Figured that one as well, strange as it sounds,” Nik said before turning to you. “Call him.”
You nibbled on your lip, then motioned at Stacey and held up your phone, making her nod before you made your way out of the diner. Taking a deep breath, you found his name on the screen and touched it before taking the phone to your ear.
It rang only once.
“Hey princess.”
“Logan, hi!” you said, your heart pacing in your chest. “Um, are you busy?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Took you a while to sober up huh?”
You could feel your lips curling into a smile at his teasing remark.
“I may or may not have been avoiding you,” you admitted, biting at your nails. “I’m sorry.”
“Not a problem,” he said with a small chuckle. “Why were you avoiding me?”
You shrugged your shoulders as if he could see you.
“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “Reasons.”
He hummed and you shifted your weight before you leaned back to the wall of the diner.
“Thank you by the way,” you said. “For…that whole night. And I’m sorry for—for making a move on you, that’s very unlike me and I—”
“Are you free tonight?”
Your head shot up, your eyes widening at his question and you felt your breath catching in your throat before you swallowed.
“Me?” you felt the need to ask and he paused for a moment as if he didn’t know how to answer that.
“…Yes?”
“As in tonight tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh—sure!” you said, your voice going high pitched for a moment. “I’d love that!”
“Great, I can pick you up from the diner—”
“No!” you cut him off as you looked down at your uniform, frowning slightly. “I need to drop by my place first.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “I can pick you up from there then. Does 8 work for you?”
“Yeah!” you said breathlessly as you nodded your head so fast that you got dizzy for a second, blinking fast. “It totally works for me.”
“Great,” he said. “See you tonight then.”
“See you,” you said and hung up, then let out a squeal and pressed the phone to your chest, jumping up and down in your spot. You took a deep breath, then fixed your hair and made your way back into the diner to rush to the counter again.
“He asked me out!” you whispered to Nik, grabbing his arm. “Just now, he asked me out!”
Jamie let out a whine and buried his face into his palms while Nik grinned at you, patting Jamie on the back in a reassuring manner.
“See? Told you.”
“We’re meeting tonight! At 8!” you said and paused for a moment. “Oh my God what do I wear?”
“A Regency gown.”
“Jamie I love you but not now,” Nik told him before he turned to you. “We’ll videocall okay? You, me and Julie.”
“Okay.”
“And after you and Logan become a couple, we can have a double date.”
That was enough to make Jamie lift his head from his hands. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll convince him,” Nik told you and you let out a giggle, your insides all warm with excitement.
“Nik,” you said. “I really really like him.”
Nik let out an “aw!” and reached out to squeeze your hand.
“That’s good!” he said. “I mean granted we will grill him about his intentions with you but it’s a great start.”
Jamie opened his mouth to disagree but Nik elbowed him, shooting him a glare. You suppressed your laugh as Jamie heaved a sigh, then turned to you.
“Just…” he said. “Be careful. Please?”
“Always am,” you promised him with a grin. “The pie is on me by the way. For emotional support.”
                                            *
It wasn’t that you hadn’t been on dates.
Nik was quite the matchmaker, so was Julie. In fact, for the last year, they had been acting like their sole purpose in life was to find you a boyfriend so if anything, you had been on too many dates.
Not that—
Not that you assumed this was a date.
Even if you were wearing matching lingerie underneath your dress.
You were basically buzzing with anticipation as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your hair before smoothing down your dress. Your wardrobe looked like it had exploded and for a moment the possibility of bringing Logan back to your apartment crossed your mind, making your heart skip a happy beat. You gathered up all your clothes into your arms to push them into the wardrobe, then put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side.
“Good enough,” you mumbled and walked to your vanity to check on your makeup, then went to the living room to approach the small fish tank. You grabbed the fish food next to it, then sprinkled it into the tank carefully before dragging your finger over the glass, following their movements.
Theo was going to be so happy when he saw them.
Your head whipped around when you heard the doorbell ring, your heart beating in your ears and to make it worse you knew very well that he could hear it but you refused to dwell on it, so you made your way to the door to open it.
Fuck, you were beginning to think you were never going to get used to just how hot he was.
“Hi!”
“Hi princess,” he said, his deep voice making your stomach do a happy flip as he looked you up and down. “You look beautiful.”
Oh dear God, you were not going to survive tonight.
“Thanks, so do you,” you said with a smile before you turned around to get your jacket and purse. “So um, where are we going?”
Where you were going turned out to be a cozy bar with soft music playing in the background. It was somehow so Logan, there was no chaos, no deafening noise or blinding lights.
Just pure comfort; the kind that made you almost lightheaded, warming your insides.
“So why exactly were you avoiding me?” Logan asked as the waiter put his whiskey and your cocktail on the table and you took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to focus on the question rather than how handsome he looked under the dim light of the bar as you crossed your arms on the table.
“I mean…” you trailed off, scrunching up your face for a moment. “I was embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“Uh I don’t know if you remember that night,” you tried to joke your way through discomfort. “But it wasn’t what one would call dignified.”
He shot you a lighthearted glare and you shrugged your shoulders.
“I turn into a very impulsive person when I’m drunk,” you admitted and his lips quirked into a smile.
“Yeah I don’t know that many people who buy fish when they’re drunk.”
“Oh you don’t know the half of it,” you said with a laugh. “I have a worse drunk story actually.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah, on my senior year in high school, me and my friends got drunk and in our town there was this guy who was a dog breeder,” you said. “And we knew he was terrible to them, we wrote petitions and everything for the town council to do something but there was no use. So one night, we knew he was out of town so we broke into his house and stole all the dogs.”
He raised his brows, smiling slightly. “Seriously?”
“Yeah! And we kept all of them at my friend’s house and one by one we got them adopted. The guy knew we did it, but there was no chip or anything so he couldn’t do anything.”
“Wow,” he said, a chuckle vibrating in his chest. “So you turn into a vigilante when you’re drunk, got it.”
“I do,” you said, raising your cocktail in a mock of toast before taking a sip while he leaned back. “I love animals. I was actually studying to be a—” you paused for a moment. “Well, studying is a big word for it considering I dropped out without even completing my freshman year, but I was studying to be a vet before Theo.”
He tilted his head. “Really?”
“Mm hm.”
“Classmate?” he asked and you licked your lips, an icy spark replacing the happy warmth inside of you.
“Uh,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “T.A actually.”
Logan pulled his brows together and you took a sip of your cocktail.
“Trust me, I know how fucked up it sounds now,” you said with a small laugh. “But back then I didn’t and it worked out very well for him.”
“That guy really sounds like he needs to get his ass beat.”
“Oh Jamie actually beat him up once,” you pointed out. “In what became known as The Legendary Bar Fight. We celebrate it once a year with drinks.”
“You could give me his address.”
“Absolutely not, and I don’t even know where he is to be honest,” you said. “Anyway, why are we talking about him? Also why am I the one doing all the talking yet again?”
“I like listening to you talk.”
You could feel your cheeks growing warmer and a smile curled your lips.
“Until I give you a headache.”
“Never gonna happen.”
 Your smile widened as you looked down at your cocktail, shifting your weight.
“Well, either way,” you mumbled. “It’s your turn now.”
“Oh, my turn?”
“I barely know anything about you,” you admitted. “Other than the fact that you have been saving me a lot since we met.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “What do you want to know?”
“Whatever you’re willing to tell me,” you said. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”
“Alive.”
Your brows pinched together as you took a deep breath.
“Limited options, got it,” you said. “Were your family also mutants?”
“My brother,” he said. “Victor. We don’t…talk anymore.”
Something in his tone was distant, so you decided not to push it.
“Do you like working for Professor X?” you asked, steering the conversation to safer waters and that seemed to pull him out of his thoughts as he nodded his head.
“Yeah,” he said. “Charles is the best man I’ve ever met. Don’t tell him I said that though.”
“Cross my heart,” you said with a giggle, proud of yourself for finding a better subject. “How did you meet him?”
“He found me back when I was a cage fighter.”
You blinked a couple of times. “Sorry, a cage fighter?”
“Yeah I was uh…” he paused for a moment. “Wandering.”
“How does one become a cage fighter?”
“Wrong crowd,” he joked, making you let out a laugh.
“I’d bet. And now you are part time teacher, part time…going on missions.”
“Mm hm.”
“And you have a costume,” you mused as he shook his head slightly. “Any chance I’ll get to see you in it?”
“If you ask nicely.”
A fire spread over your cheeks at the teasing tone in his voice and you scrunched up your nose at him.
“I’m always nice,” you pointed out nonchalantly. “Or has it escaped your attention?”
“Trust me, it hasn’t.”
His lips twitched when a smile warmed your face and that soft light started gleaming in his eyes.
“Okay,” you said, sitting up straight. “Another question.”
“Shoot.”
“You really didn’t get a handkerchief?”
He scoffed a laugh. “You remember that?”
“Unfortunately.”
“As I said, I had other priorities in mind.”
You narrowed your eyes a little. “I could see you in period clothing, now that I imagine it...”
“Please stop imagining me like that.”
“Like those long jackets, long boots—oh my God,” you gasped, making him raise his brows. “Logan!”
“I’m not gonna like what you’re about to say, am I?”
“A top hat!”
Logan nodded to himself. “Yep, called it.”
“No seriously,” you insisted. “On Halloween—”
“Absolutely not.”
You let out a small laugh.
“Nik throws these amazing Halloween parties and the theme was ‘write your own story’ a couple years back,” you said. “So I got this huge dress, like…17th century huge, with a corset and everything, and no one really thinks about it but it is quite hard to unlace a corset—" you tilted your head when you saw his smirk. ”Hey!”
Logan held up his hands, gesturing surrender.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Let me guess, you’re painfully familiar with how to unlace a corset?”
“Still not saying anything.”
You hummed, trying to adapt a serious expression.
“Anyway, Casanova,” you said. “So my story was, there’s this girl, who was betrothed to the love of his life, and then he gets lost at the sea and everyone is convinced that his ship sank, but the plot twist, he wasn’t dead so he comes back but he’s a vampire, and he turns her into a vampire as well –obviously with consent— and they live happily ever after.”
“Quite the love story.”
“Thank you,” you said happily. “So no handkerchief?”
“No handkerchief.”
You hummed, then heaved a sigh.
“Very well then,” you said and grabbed your purse to take out a pen, then pulled the napkin on the table to yourself to write your initials on it. You pulled back to look at it better, then held it out for him.
“There you go, Mr. I had other priorities.” you said with a grin. “A make do handkerchief.”  
The fond look on his face was enough to make your heart skip a happy beat as he stared at you, then took it from you and folded it before he pulled out his wallet, making your eyes widen.
“Oh I was just—you don’t have to actually keep it, it’s a silly joke,” you stammered and he shot you a glance of disbelief as if he was surprised that you thought he wouldn’t.
“I’ll keep it,” he said while placing it into his wallet in such a careful manner that one simple observer would think it was something incredibly precious for him rather than just a bar napkin. You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him.
“Really?”
“Really.”
You were painfully aware of the heart eyes you were giving him so you forced yourself to drag your gaze from him to your cocktail and took a huge sip, your heart still beating in your ears.
“Okay then,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I hope you’re ready for more questions, because I have like a million of them.”
                                            *
You had insisted walking after leaving the bar. It wasn’t that far away from your apartment, the weather was so nice, and you had hoped it would make him see you were completely sober, just in case it had escaped his attention how you had only drunk one cocktail in like two hours.
You had plans for tonight and it included him and your bed, God damn it.
“So you actually were a lumberjack?”
“I was cutting down trees and turning them into logs.”
“That’s what a lumberjack does,” you insisted as you walked beside him. “Julie has superpowers, I swear…”
“Hm?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly. “And you had a real cabin in the woods?”
“Something like that.”
“Are they still hiring?” you asked him, making him let out a laugh. “Seriously, I want a cabin in the woods.”
“For your Hi-Horse?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared up at him. “You remember that?”
“Of course,” he said as if he wasn’t melting your heart with that simple fact and you licked your lips.
“Did you have a horse?”
“Nope.”
“You had a cabin in the woods and you didn’t have a horse and two dogs and a cat?” you asked, pretending to be scandalized. “That’s just being short sighted, Logan.”
“Not all of us want to have a zoo, sweetheart.”
“It’s not a zoo!” you said with a gasp, making him grin.
“A farm then.”
“It’s not a farm,” you argued. “Farms have sheep.”
“Oh you don’t want sheep?”
“Of course I do but that’s beside the point,” you said. “It’s not a farm—”
“What are the sheep’s names?”
“Shearlock and Wooly Wonka,” you muttered, coaxing a chuckle out of him.
“Very creative.”
“Thank you,” you said. “I think it’s against the law to not have animals if you have a cabin in the woods.”
“It’s not.”
“Well it should be,” you said without hesitation and he bit back a smile as you stopped in front of your house.
Anticipation was swirling in your stomach, filling you with excitement and making your heartbeat faster. You knew he could hear it but for the first time, you didn’t mind it.
Desire was too strong to let you feel anything else.
“Um, so before I say what I’m about to say,” you said after a beat, turning to look at him better as you leaned back on the wall of the building. “I would like to point out that I’m completely one hundred percent sober.”
He tilted his head to the left, a mischievous light playing in his hazel eyes.
“Like, in case it has escaped your notice I only had one drink and it was a cocktail and it was a pretty light cocktail so like, half juice really,” you said. “And I’m not even buzzed, and even if I were buzzed, we walked here so fresh air would’ve helped. Which, it has no reason to help because to repeat I’m not even buzzed. I will blow on anything—that sounded wrong,” you corrected yourself, pulling your brows together. “Um, a breathalyzer I mean, if I blew into a breathalyzer it would come out a zero because I’m so sober, and—and—I don’t know if you paid attention to it, but I walked all the way here in a straight line, which should be the proof and if you didn’t, I can walk in a straight line right now to—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he pulled you into a kiss.
You could swear the rest of the world stopped existing the moment his lips touched yours. His arm sneaked around your waist while he cradled the back of your head with his other hand, making your breath catch in your throat. Desire turned into fire in your veins, reaching your chest before it sent the warmth all over your body, making you dizzy. You gripped his shirt tighter in your fists, standing on your tiptoes, a soft whine escaping from your lips as soon as he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours.
“Fuck…” he whispered and you blinked up at him, nearly drunk in the haze.
“No I—I wanted you to do it,” you tried to find the right words through the fog of desire and he licked his lips, looking down at you before he shook his head slightly.
“You shouldn’t,” he rasped out and you pulled your brows together.
“I shouldn’t want you to do it?” you asked him, still trying to catch your breath and he nodded.
“I’m not…” he trailed off against your lips. “I’m no good for you.”
Your frown deepened before you let out a breath, and slowly reached out to cup his cheek. His eyes closed for a moment as if your mere touch was anchoring him to the moment, pulling him out of his own mind before he opened his eyes again to look at you. A tentative smile curled your lips and you thought for a moment before clearing your throat.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” you said, your voice soft. “I’ll be the one to decide whether you’re good for me or not. Alright?”
His eyes searched yours before he let out a breath, then nodded his head.
“Alright,” he said, his voice a murmur before he dipped his head down to kiss you again. A squeal escaped from you as he picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist and walked into the building. You had no idea how he didn’t lose his balance or hit anywhere on his way but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he was kissing you like this, and you only noticed you had in fact reached your door when he pressed you against it.
“Inside, inside!” you giggled as you fished your keys out of your purse, and he held you with one arm, making your eyes widen while he took the keys from you and opened the door, then walked in and kicked the door shut behind him.
Oh God.
Oh God this was happening.
Now you understood what all those romance novels were talking about. You couldn’t pull yourself away from his kiss even if you wanted to, the fire had taken over your whole body until every single thought disappeared; the only thing that existed was him, and how good his lips made you feel. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you both fell on your bed, his weight taking your breath away for a moment before you unbuttoned his flannel and pushed it down his arms. He tossed it somewhere in the room and got rid of his white shirt underneath, making you let out a breath at his muscular body.
Jesus Christ.
Your fingertips grazed over his broad shoulders before slipping down to his hard chest and he helped you up to unzip your dress, his lips finding yours as if he couldn’t stand not kissing you even for a moment. He pulled back only to pull the dress off of you, but he froze as soon as his eyes fell on you.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” the whisper left his lips like a prayer and you felt your heart skip a beat despite the ever-consuming fire.
“Not really,” you teased him. “I just planned it.”
He raised a brow, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes and he slid down to the foot of the bed, then grabbed your ankle to pull you down, making you let out a small scream before you giggled, propping yourself up on your elbows to see him better.
“What are you doing?”
He gave you a wolfish grin, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine as he knelt down at the foot of the bed, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your inner thighs.
“Well, princess,” he muttered, your heart leaping up to your throat when you realized what he was about to do. “You’re not the only one who planned things.”
8 - Scorching
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teddypines · 3 months ago
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Weekend alone
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Summary: Y/N and Bruce have the house to themselves so they think watching a movie or show would be a good idea, until things take a different turn.
Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+ MDNI, please and if you do not my problem. Use of vibrator, bit of degrading, i think. Let me know if i missed something.
Note: So.... First time doing smut. I hope it's good, i hope you enjoy it. Tips are always welcome!
Art/picture's are from Pinterest, credits go to whoever made it. I just put it together like this.
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It was an odd acuranse for Bruce and Y/N to have the whole house for themselves. Yet it happened to them. All the kids out of the house doing their own things with friends, partners or just something by themselves. Even Alfred went out for the weekend, going on a well-deserved vacation to a butler convention. Even the animals did their own things as Bruce and Y/N tried to figure out what to do for the day. Not wanting to do a lot since it was Sunday, which meant a lazy day for Bruce and Y/N to bond and recharge for the next week.
“We could watch a new show or movie downstairs.” Bruce suggested. Knowing fully well that they would never watch something new without the kids and will probably circle back to one of their favorite shows and or movies. “Yeah, but the bed is so warm and cozy right now. I don’t want to leave.” Y/N answered as she snuggled into Bruce’s side a bit more. Bruce laughed a bit and booped her nose. “Alright then, we can watch a show or movie here in bed. I did put in a tv in the room that we barely use.” 
“Can we watch Steven Universe?” Y/N asked Bruce, not even bothered that they watched Steven Universe multiple times and it wasn’t a new show or movie. “Please, Brucie, please.” Giving Bruce her puppy eyes. Bruce looked at Y/N and sighed. “You really want to watch Steven Universe again over watching something new? Something that, I don't know, needs to be checked before we watch it with the children?” 
“Steven Universe." Y/N answered. “Because all I wanna do is see you turn into a giant woman.” Bruce could only laugh a bit at Y/N quoting the show. “Or we can watch something that is a bit less gem related. We could watch that show with the angels and demons.” Bruce said as he pulled away from Y/N to find the remote to the tv in his nightstand. 
“Be more specific, Love. There are multiple shows with angels and demons.” Y/N responded. Turning on her side to watch Bruce look for the remote. “The one where they are lovers.” Bruce added. “Still not specific enough, love.” Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. feeling a bit frustrated about not finding the remote or the show he ment.
“Do you want me to list them off?” Y/N asked, wanting to help Bruce with finding the show or movie he ment. Bruce only nodded his head as he continued his search for the remote. “Okay, so we have ‘Good Omens’, ‘Supernatural’, ‘Lucifer’ I think ‘Vampire diaries’, ‘Buffy the vampire slayer’ ehm…. that one show with the witches. Yeah no I think that’s it.” Y/N listed off all the shows she could think of. Bruce was a bit baffled about all the shows with angels and demons that were lovers or had other lovers. He dropped the remote on the floor. “Yeah… ehm… Let’s just watch Sherlock.” “Okiedokie, which one?” 
Bruce looked at Y/N, wanting to give up on watching a show or movie all together. “The one with Rdj?..” Bruce answered. “First or second one?” Y/N asked again. Bruce leaned against the headboard in shock. “Jeez women stop asking so many questions, I just want to watch Sherlock Holmes and snuggle with you!” He answered. “So…. I can pick the Sherlock version?” “Yes! Just pick, please.” Y/N giggled and put on the first Sherlock Holmes movie with Rdj in it after grabbing the remote from Bruce’s hands. 
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“I don’t like Irene.” Y/N commented after Irene just tricked Sherlock into doing her dirty work. Bruce laughed at her comment and kissed the side of her head. “I know you do. Good thing she’s not real and Sherlock ditches her.” Y/N nodded her head at Bruce’s response. “You know Sherlock only likes her somewhat because she’s interesting to him and he can’t really read her like all the other people, right?” He asked before continuing to kiss Y/N head and cheeks. “Yes, I know that, but I still don’t like her.” Y/N pouted after answering.
Bruce laughed a bit at the pout Y/N had on her face and slowly placed his hands over her thighs. “Such a pouty girl.” Y/N looked up at Bruce, sticking out her tongue. “And here I thought I was free of children for the day.” Bruce teasted. “Maybe I should teach you how to behave.” Y/N turned a bit red and quickly looked back towards the tv. “No need.”
“No need? Owh sweetheart, I think you do need to be taught a lesson in behaving.” Bruce whispered into Y/N ears. His hands moved from her thighs towards her hips, gently lifting her up and placing her into his lap. “Good girls don’t stick out their tongues.”
Before Y/N knew it Bruce had pulled off her sleep shorts and panties. “Focus on the tv, Sweetheart.” He ordered Y/N in a husky tone. Y/N could only listen and turned her focus on the tv in front of her. She could hear Bruce reach for his nightstand and grab something from one of the drawers. She had an idea of what he grabbed but had to do her best not to look. Her suspicion was however quickly confirmed when she felt something cold against her clit and a low buzzing sound started to fill the room. “There's a good girl. Keep looking at the tv, love.” Bruce smirked as Y/N started to whimper and squirming between his legs. The vibrator was on the first setting and she was already a mess.
“Bruce…” Y/N moaned as she turned her head up to look at Bruce. “Ah ah. No, Love, keep looking at the tv.” Bruce purred into her ear before turning up the vibrator, making Y/N’s breathing hitch. She moaned at the stronger sensation on her clit, the feeling of Bruce’s hard one against her back wasn’t helping either. She wanted to look at him not at the tv, but he wouldn’t let her. “Such a good girl, Sweetie.” The way Bruce said those words didn’t help Y/N at all, the feeling between her legs only getting stronger and stronger.
Bruce looked back at the tv enjoying the movie once again as he kept the vibrator on Y/N’s clit. Changing the levels every once in a while, going from really low to the highest and everything in between just to tease her. Making sure she wouldn’t come or look away from the tv. Holding her tightly against his chest.
“Bruce… Please~” Y/N whined as she could feel herself getting close again. “Please, please.”
“Please what, love? What do you want?” Bruce asked, adding to the teasing, wanting to hear her say what she wanted in this messy state. “Please, want to come.” Y/N barely got out as Bruce turned up the vibrator once again. “Yeah? You want to come, love? but I don't think you have learned your lesson just yet.” Bruce answered Y/N plea. The way she started to shake in his lap made him want to continue this little teasing game. “Please Brucie, please, i'll be a good girl. A really good girl.”
“Hmmm, are you? Are you going to be my good girl?” Bruce asked after placing a kiss on Y/N’s shoulder when she nodded to his question. “Alright, love, come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come.” The moment Bruce told Y/N it was okay to come, she came. She arched her back against Bruce and moaned out his name. Bruce was pleased by Y/N coming like this and the sight alone made him come inside his sweatpants.
After a little while of calming down Y/N turned over in Bruce’s arms. “You’re mean,” She whispered. “But I love you more. Now let me make you feel good too.” She said before getting onto her knees, only to be stopped by Bruce. “No need for that love, you already made me feel really good.” He gestured down at his crotch where a noticeable dark spot was. Y/N looked at it and could only laugh. “Did I really make you come by just letting you toy with me?”
“Maybe.” Bruce smirked and pulled Y/N towards him for a kiss.
“Come on, let's get cleaned up and get some snacks so we can finish this movie.” Bruce said as he picked Y/N up and started to carry her towards the bathroom. Y/N smiled and nodded her head. “I’d like that a lot.” 
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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months ago
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What I Didn't Know I Had
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!pregnant!wife!reader
Summary: You get shot, and Tim nearly loses something he didn't know he had.
Warnings: angst, r is shot, fluffy comfort and soft Tim at the end
Word Count: 1.7k+ words
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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“I’ll catch up,” you tell Tim.
He nods once and tunes out Lucy as she walks beside him. The bullpen is crowded because of a busy day in Los Angeles, but you have something more important on your mind.
“Angela, can we talk?” you ask as you approach her desk.
“Of course,” she answers. “Is everything okay? Baby okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re good.” You lay your hand over your not yet existent bump and smile. “I’m ready to tell Tim, but I want to surprise him with the pregnancy announcement. He’s not… conventional, right? So, I just wanted to ask if you had any ideas for how I can tell him, how I can make it special?”
“Not conventional is certainly a good description of Tim Bradford,” Angela agrees playfully. “Honestly, you know better than I do what he’d consider to be special. I think you should tell him sooner rather than later.”
You nod and look over your shoulder toward Tim. He deserves a memorable announcement; it’s his first child and he’s going to be an amazing father, so you want to make sure he knows that.
“Blue and pink target practice,” Angela suggests. “Nothing like a gun range jump scare.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Wade yells your name, and you thank Angela before you return to the crowd of police officers. He says your name again before he adds, “Bradford, Nolan, and Chen, we’ve got a domestic call off Wilshire. Take care of that and get back here. ACH!”
“Anything can happen,” Lucy murmurs. “But it’s never fun.”
“ACHBINF,” Nolan agrees.
“Are you okay?” Tim asks as he falls into step beside you.
“Yeah, I’m good. Love this time of year when we have to send two cops to a call and two cops to protect the others,” you reply.
“Hey, what’s it like being married?” Lucy asks as you enter the garage.
“Depends on the marriage,” Nolan answers. “Why? Are you getting married?”
“Not today,” Lucy answers. “Just curious.”
“Nolan’s right,” Tim agrees. “It depends on the marriage.”
“I love being married,” you tell her. “But it’s nothing to rush into.”
“I just want to meet someone,” Lucy groans. “And you guys are no help.”
“Yeah, I married my partner,” you say, winking at Tim.
“And Nolan’s divorced,” Tim points out.
“Okay!” you announce. “Before this gets worse and turns into a competition of who has or had the better marriage – because it’s me and Tim – we need to go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy agrees. “ACHBINF.”
Tim grunts as he slams the car door, and you smile. As long as that isn’t his response to your pregnancy announcement, you’re amused by his grumpiness.
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“There’s nobody here,” Tim says as he looks through a dirty window.
“This is the address. They said they were watching the argument from across the street,” you explain. “So, it’s either a setup or a prank.”
“Bradford!” Nolan calls as he moves out of the yard. “There’s a black SUV moving slowly toward us.”
“Tell dispatch, and get through to Grey,” Tim demands. “Stay down.”
You move with Tim, staying low as you move toward the shop. The black SUV is several houses away, but it only rolls a foot or so before it stops for thirty seconds, then moves again.
“Option 3, someone’s trying to steal a stick shift and can’t drive it,” you joke.
“It’s never that easy,” Tim replies.
“ACHBINF?” you ask.
“Don’t,” Tim murmurs as he watches the car. “We need to make contact before they get close enough to do something.”
“I can go through yards and come up behind them.”
“No, we don’t know what the back looks like. Nolan, where are you and Chen?”
“Behind the shop,” Nolan answers. “On the other side of the street from you.”
“Stay in position,” Tim radios.
A shot fires somewhere nearby, but it echoes so you can’t tell where it originated from.
“The car’s a distraction,” you and Tim say together.
“Backup is two minutes out,” Lucy calls over the radio. “We don’t have time!”
“I’m shooting at the SUV,” Tim tells you. “Cover me.”
You trade places with Tim and press your back to the shop as you cover him. Before you can alert Tim of movement beside the house you were called to, someone fires again. You feel the sting of the bullet against your vest but rise to your knees and return fire. Tim notices your movement and lowers beside you. When the shooter drops his gun and tips back, Tim rushes to him as Lucy and Nolan run to stop the black SUV. You lean back against the shop and run your hand over your uniform. It’s tinted red with blood when you pull it back, and you gently press your fingers against your side. The bullet missed your vest by less than an inch, and your first thought is that the bullet may have gone in sideways.
“No, no, no,” you whisper as you press your hands to your lower stomach.
With the pressure, your bleeding increases with nothing to stop it. Tim rounds the corner of the house with the shooter in handcuffs but pushes him to the ground when he sees you. You’re losing blood quickly, and Tim sees your hands in the wrong place, which immediately concerns him. If you didn’t tell him you were shot and are causing it to bleed more, you must be in shock or hemorrhaging.
“Nolan, get over here!” Tim radios.
He kneels beside you and presses his hands to your side as you try to force a hand under your vest.
“Get me an ambulance!” Tim demands. “Officer down!”
“Tim, I’m pregnant,” you blurt out. “You have to make sure the baby is okay.”
Tim shakes his head and tells you to stay calm. Nolan loads the shooter into the back of his shop and tells Tim the ambulance is approaching.
“Promise you’ll make sure the baby’s okay,” you repeat.
She doesn’t know what she’s talking about, Tim thinks. That thought only increases his worry because you’re losing blood and not making any sense.
“What happened?” the paramedic asks as he approaches your side.
“GSW to her side,” Tim replies.
Your eyes flutter closed as they wrap your side, and you don’t mention ‘the baby’ again. Tim asks the paramedic which hospital you are going to and follows your ambulance in his shop. As he drives, he wonders where the “I’m pregnant” announcement came from. It’s something he wants but hearing it because you were losing blood causes his hands to shake. He reminds himself to focus and control his emotions as he parks and runs into the emergency room entrance.
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“Office Bradford?” a doctor asks.
“Yes, sir,” Tim responds as he stands. “How is she?”
“She’s perfectly fine. The bullet was through and through with very little tissue damage, so we cleaned and stitched the wound, and she’ll be free to go after some observation. And the baby is perfectly safe as well, Officer.”
“Baby?” Tim repeats. “She’s pregnant?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. Yes, sir, she’s about seven weeks pregnant. You can go in if you’d like.”
“Thank you.”
The short walk to your room feels like a marathon, and Tim’s mind races with each step. You should have told Tim; you have a dangerous job, and he needs to know. Tim takes a deep breath before he opens the door and steps into your room.
“You really meant that,” he says.
You look up and tug your bottom lip between your teeth before you release it to speak. “Yeah, I did. I wanted to surprise you, and I was going to do it later today, but… you know.”
“You have to tell me this stuff,” Tim says gently. “I didn’t know. And I- if something had happened, I wouldn’t have known. I’m supposed to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “Surprise?”
Tim rolls his eyes as he takes your hand. He lays your joined hands over your stomach, avoiding your stitches.
“I was terrified,” you whisper. “There wasn’t a way to tell where it went, and if I’d lost-“
Tim shushes you gently and sits on the edge of your bed. He moves a hand to your jaw and brushes his thumb over your cheek.
“I get it. The doctor told me the baby was fine, and it suddenly crashed down on me. That fear that I could’ve lost something I didn’t know I had hit me, even after I knew you were both okay.”
You nod and turn your chin. Tim kisses you softly, and you whisper another apology against his lips.
“What do you need?” he asks.
“A hug, mostly,” you say lightly.
“I was hoping you’d say you were ready to get out of here.”
“Oh, we’re both very ready to get out of here,” you agree.
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Tim helps you get comfortable on the couch after you arrive home, and you twirl your wedding ring around your finger. He returns a moment later, and when you pull your knees up to give him room to sit beside you, he huffs. Carefully, he lifts your ankles and lays your legs back in your original, comfortable position. Tim lays with you rather than sitting beside you, and you happily turn into his arm. He drags his fingertips along your spine, over your shoulders, and back down. His other hand lays against your side, and he drops his hand to where your baby is growing.
“You’re getting soft,” you murmur.
“Just for you two. And we both need this,” he replies.
“I have an appointment next week, and I want you to be there.”
“I’ll be right here,” he promises. “Can’t trust you to tell me anything important,” he jokes.
You try to push him away, but Tim grabs your wrists and carefully pulls you with him as he rolls. He barely manages to catch both himself and you as he nearly falls off the couch.
“Surprise?” he asks, repeating your earlier comment.
He kisses you before you can say anything else, and when his hands wander to your stomach, you know that you were right about what a great father he will be.
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reidmarieprentiss · 5 months ago
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Love in the Details
Summary: Spencer helps you while wedding planning.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: fluff & comfort
Warnings/Includes: wedding stress, reader is planning on wearing a dress
Word count: 1.2k
a/n: i don’t even want a conventional wedding but if spencer reid himself asked me to plan one i’d drop everything just to make sure i planned it perfectly
main masterlist
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Planning a wedding is supposed to be one of the happiest times in your life, but right now, it feels like you’re drowning. Invitations, venue tours, dress fittings, cake tastings—the list goes on and on, and it’s all piling up, threatening to bury you alive.
“Hey, how are you holding up?” Spencer’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He looks at you with concern, his warm brown eyes filled with worry.
You sigh heavily, sinking onto the couch. “I don’t know, Spencer. There’s just so much to do, and it feels like we’re not making any progress. I’m completely overwhelmed.”
Spencer sits beside you, taking your hands in his. “I know it’s a lot, but we’re in this together. We can handle it. Let’s break it down into smaller tasks and tackle them one at a time. What’s the most pressing thing we need to do right now?”
You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “The guest list. We need to finalize the guest list so we can send out the invitations. But every time I look at it, it just keeps growing. I don’t know how we’re going to fit everyone. Why did we invite anyone? I thought we didn’t have any friends.”
“Okay, well, we do have friends. And we have to invite them, and our families” Spencer laughs, pulling out his laptop. “Let’s go through the list together. We’ll see if there are any names we can remove or if we need to look into bigger venues.”
You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the weight lift off your chest. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. It’s supposed to be our special day, but I can’t help worrying about making everyone else happy.”
Spencer gently tilts your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “Our wedding is about us. It’s about celebrating our love and commitment to each other. Our family and friends are important, but this day is ours. We need to focus on what makes us happy.”
You nod, feeling stress tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "You’re right. I just need to remember that."
"Exactly," Spencer says, smiling softly as he squeezes your hand. "What else do you need to get done?"
You sigh, leaning back into the couch. "I need to book a couple of venue tours. No one is getting back to me or answering my calls. It's like they're purposefully ignoring a very stressed bride-to-be."
Spencer chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I'm sure that's not the case, babe."
"Feels like it," you mutter, frustration evident in your voice.
"I know," Spencer whispers, kissing your forehead tenderly. "What else?"
You groan, rubbing your temples. "I haven't picked an invitation style. I narrowed it down to two, but every time I think I know which one to pick, the other one starts looking better."
"Okay... anything else?" he asks, his tone gentle and supportive.
"A cake tasting with that bakery you like, booking the caterer, and fixing the—oh my god! The flowers!" you whine, tossing yourself back into the couch dramatically.
Spencer raises an eyebrow, his concern deepening. "Okay, deep breaths. What's wrong with the flowers?"
"I told him my favorite flowers, and he put in our whole order for the wrong ones! Our wedding is ruined," you exclaim, your voice breaking with stress.
"Oh, my love. Nothing is ruined." Spencer moves the laptop aside and grabs your hands, pulling you close. "Why don't I run you a nice warm bath so you can relax and reset? How does that sound?"
You nod, albeit a bit childishly, allowing Spencer to pull you up and guide you towards the bathroom. His touch is soothing, and you feel a glimmer of ease as he opens the door.
Spencer is so sweet and understanding, always knowing exactly what you need. He starts the bath, adjusting the water temperature to your liking, and adds some of your favorite bath salts. The calming aroma begins to fill the room, easing some of your tension.
As the tub fills, he turns to you with a gentle smile. "Why don't you get undressed and get in? I'll be right back."
You do as he says, slipping into the warm water with a sigh of relief. Spencer returns with a towel, a glass of water, and a small plate of your favorite snacks. He places them within reach and kneels beside the tub, his fingers trailing through the water.
"How does that feel?" he asks softly, his eyes full of love.
"Perfect," you whisper, already feeling the stress start to melt away.
Spencer's hands move to your shoulders, massaging gently. His fingers work out the knots and tension, and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch.
"Take your time," he murmurs. "When you're ready, you can take a nap. You’ve done so much already, you deserve a break"
You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, sinking further in the tub.
When you wake from your nap, the house is unusually quiet. You stretch, feeling much more rested, but a bit disoriented. Spencer is nowhere to be found, which is odd. You slip out of bed and pad down the hallway, eventually hearing his voice coming from his office. Curious, you follow the sound.
“It has to be those flowers. If any other flowers show up, I will not hesitate to rain down on your establishment with the full force of the law for any and every minute flaw that I know exists… okay, okay. Thank you very much for your time, sir. Happy to do business with you too.”
You stand in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “What was that?”
Spencer turns around, a smile spreading across his face when he sees you. “Oh, nothing… just fixed the flower debacle.”
“No, you did not… how?”
Spencer coughs, looking a bit sheepish. “Uh, just charm and patience, baby.”
“So… that wasn’t the flower guy I heard you threatening?”
“Me? Threatening someone? Oh no, baby! You must be feverish! You’re hearing things! You need to lay back down!” Spencer flairs dramatically, pulling you into a tight hug.
You laugh, leaning into his embrace. “Okay, okay. Thank you, Spence. I appreciate you so much.”
“Of course. I know how much stress you were under. I just wanted to lighten the load,” he says lovingly, kissing the top of your head. “Speaking of… I finalized the guest list, ordered the invitations, we have venue tours and a cake tasting this Saturday. Might be kind of busy, and that caterer you really wanted is available!”
He rushes out all this information in one breath, his excitement and eagerness evident.
Your eyes widen in surprise and gratitude. “You did all that? Spencer, you’re amazing.”
He grins, looking pleased with himself. “I just want our day to be perfect, and for you to feel as little stress as possible. We’re in this together, remember?”
You nod, feeling a swell of emotion. “I know, and I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for everything. I love you.”
Spencer leans in, kissing you softly. “I love you too. I’ll do anything for you, my love. Now, how about we relax for the rest of the day? You’ve earned it.”
You smile, feeling the weight of your earlier stress lift completely. This is the man you’re marrying, the man who will threaten a florist just so your wedding day is perfect. You couldn’t be more in love.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago
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End Game 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: we're here to boo Andrew.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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“So, you’re coming?” Jacob’s voice quavers with excitement. You can’t imagine how he’d sound if you said no. You hate letting people down, it seems to be all you've ever done.
“Uh, yeah,” you say as you steer around the track; opting for some MarioKart over Minecraft that night, “boss says it’s no problem to get the days off. Just have to make it up after. Is... Is everything still good on your end?” 
“Oh yeah, sure thing,” he assures buoyantly, “I can’t wait. Did you still wanna split the airBnB?” 
“Actually, I got a place to stay for the night then I’ll take the early bus back,” you explain as Princess Peach knocks you off the track, “argh!” 
“Right, that’s good,” he says, “good to know you won’t be stranded out there.” 
“Mhm,” you use your boost to catch up to Peach and get your revenge. You don’t mention that Kara will be with you at the con. You just want to be sure this isn’t something wonky. “It’ll be nice to get out of town. My grandma will probably be happy to have the place to herself.” 
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “what’s her problem anyway?” 
“Just the way she is. She likes her space,” you shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t think she expected to be raising her granddaughter...” 
“Ah, yeah, I guess that would be stressful,” he says, “still, seems like you’re not too bad to be around. Got a job, go to school, all that. Think my dad would love it if I put in half as much effort.” 
“Yeah? You make him sound like a hard ass.” 
“Can be. Lawyer, so kinda his schtick,” he chuckles. 
“Oo, fancy,” you snort. Maybe if either of your parents had been lawyers, you wouldn’t be living off your grandma’s resent.  
“I guess. Never really see him that much...” he grumbles. 
“Hm, well, no winning, is there?” You mutter. 
“Not really,” he sighs and hisses, “ugh, Toad!” 
You chuckle and cross the finish line. A respectable second. You wait for him to finish and stifle a yawn. 
“Tired?” He asks. 
“Little.” 
“Me too, long day,” he groans, “neck’s killing me.” 
“Oh, what’d you do--” 
“You know, I’m-- an idiot. Was messing around on my bike.” 
“Of course,” you snicker, “well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sign off. I don’t wanna keep my grandma up and my head’s starting to go.” 
“Sure, I gotta get up early anyway,” he sounds less than enthused. “Good night.” 
“You too.” 
“Tomorrow?” 
“Can’t, work. Day after?” 
“Okay, I’ll make it work,” he confirms, “I’m excited about meeting up. Aren’t you?” 
“Yep,” you try not to show your doubt. You’re still not really sure about everything. 
“Can’t wait,” he rasps and the silt in his tone makes you shiver. 
“Yeah, er, bye then,” you hit end session and take off your headset, your ears tender and a bit sweaty. Even if it is awkward, at least you’ll get to hang with Kara for a bit. You haven’t seen her since grad. 
🎮
You’re already exhausted and you’re not even inside yet. The line for the convention is bustling and your excitement keeps you going as you and Kara gab away and move with the slow crawl. The sun beams down and has you sweating, though you could easily blame that on your nerves too. 
“So, this Jacob... is he cute?” She winks. 
“Kara,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not like that. Really. We just game.” 
“Oh yeah. But do you want it to be more?” She teases. 
“You know I’m not really into all that. I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life.” 
“So boring. Never change, girlie,” she nudges you playfully. “But really, that’s smart. Calvin is too much. I’m thinking of cutting him loose.” 
“Again?” You squint. 
“Not my fault he keeps coming back,” she giggles. 
You peer around, searching out a familiar face amid the ocean of strangers. You haven’t seen Jacob yet. You’re almost hoping he doesn’t show up. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He paid for you to be here. The reminder of the fact strikes guilt in your chest. 
You pause as your eyes catch another pair, further back in the queue. An older man with a beard. He stands out among the crowd. He wears a tidy button-up where most wear graphic tees or cosplay attire. He stares for a moment before he turns away and looks down, probably at whatever kid dragged him there. 
“Well, what are you going to do if he sees you and falls in love?” Kara asks. 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 
“If he’s a nerd like you, how could he not?” 
“Hey,” you frown. 
“What? You’re like the sexy gamer girl type. Isn’t that what dudes want?” She shrugs. “Let me see his pic again. He’s a skinny little thing. He’d definitely be into you.” 
“Urgh, stop,” you cross your arms. 
“Sorry, I’m only playing. You just seem so nervous, I’m trying to loosen you up.” 
“I know,” you puff, “it’s just... I should’ve just said no. This is stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed.” 
“To get out of that shithole,” she snips. “Why do you think I hauled ass the minute I popped by grad cap on?” 
“Mm, yeah, I just hope... do you think he really wants that? Maybe I gave him the wrong idea. Oh, Kar, I really didn’t mean to lead him on.” 
“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing you did if he does. I mean, he’s probably a virgin so...” 
“That’s mean,” you pout. 
“What, so are you,” she laughs. 
“Exactly,” you shake your head and drop your arms, a buzz jittering your skirt pocket.  
You look down at yourself as you slide your phone free. That was probably a bold choice but it’s so damn hot out. Besides, your Pikachu tee is loose enough to counteract the denim sheath. You turn the screen up, shading it with your hand as you read. 
‘Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up. 🙁' 
You frown and reread the message. Really? You came all the way here, took time off of work, and he’s flaking? 
“What’s up?” Kara asks as she clicks her manicured nails impatiently and stands on her toes, trying to see past the bodies ahead. 
“He just cancelled,” you mutter and type in your reply. 
‘Oh no. Hope it’s nothing bad. Maybe another time.’ 
You hit send and drop your shoulders. You’re surprised how disappointed you are. More so about the wasted effort than anything. Even if you are a bit relieved, it’s shitty. 
“Ah, bullshit!” Kara sneers, “what the hell? What did he say?” She reaches for your phone and you hold it out of her grasp. “That fucker.” 
“It’s probably not his fault. Shit happens.” 
“Babe, you’re gonna settle for a lot of nonsense if you keep that attitude. I’d be friggin pissed if I was you. He brings you all the way here and now he’s too good for you. I bet he saw some cute girl in line and she smiled at him once so now he’s ditching,” she scowls, “I hate boys.” 
“I’m sure... it’s nothing,” you say glumly as your phone vibes again. 
‘I’m real sorry. I hope you still have a good time. Take lots of pictures.’ 
You don’t respond. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. It never feels good to be stood up. Even then. 
“You know what, screw him,” Kara snarls, “let’s go in there and buy you the cutest plushie you can find. Hell, maybe you can find an even cuter guy.” 
“Kar,” you warn her. 
“Fine, just the plushie. Maybe two,” she trills, “forget that loser.” 
🎮
The chaos of the convention wipes away the dark cloud over you. You’re almost thankful that Jacob gave you the opportunity to catch up with Kara. You didn’t realise how much you missed her. It’s perfect day where you can forget about your grandmother and your lame job and everything else. 
You rush around from booth to booth. You look at fanart, handmade figures, and stuffies. You’re mindful of your wallet and how empty it really is. You’ll get one thing and a snack. That’s all you can afford.  
As the hours roll by, your early morning bus ride and time spent standing out in the hot sun catch up to you. You feel your muscles starting to ache and your eyelids turning fuzzy. You yawn as you shuffle behind Kara as she waits in line to get a signature from the one D-list celeb she’s heard of. You’d get one too but it’s way too expensive. 
“Hey,” you rub your cheek, “mind if I sit and wait? I wanna grab a soft pretzel anyway.” 
“Sure,” she agrees easily, “looks like it’s gonna be a while.” 
“Want me to bring you a drink or something?” You offer. 
“Nah, just text me where you are so I can find you,” she says. 
You leave her reluctantly. You’d rather not be wandering alone through the hordes but your feet are killing you and your stomach’s been roaring for the last hour. You stand in line for the pretzel stall and get yours with cinnamon sugar and syrup. Messy but delicious. 
You find a table in the corner and settle in. You put your phone beside the napkin and tear apart the doughy goodness. Your phone lights up with a notification from the merge game you like to play and you see several other icons; missed messages. 
You focus on your snack, savouring each bite, as your eyes drift around the crowded centre. You can barely see some of the booths as hordes cluster around. Some cosplayers bat at each other with toy swords as children fight over the arcade machines. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity all around. 
You put your head down trying to block out the lights and noise. You feel yourself getting overstimulated. It’s like when you’re in the lecture hall and suddenly you can hear every sniff, sneeze, and keystroke. You close your eyes as you wipe your fingertips on the edge of the napkin, only half-finished your pretzel. 
“Looks good,” a deep voice cuts through the blaring din. 
As you recognise the timbre, your heart squeezes and the world pinpoints at the centre of your skull. You open your eyes and slowly raise your head. You blink dumbly at the unfamiliar man stood in front of you. You think you’ve seen him before, or at least he sticks out from the typical convention attendee. 
It isn’t that he’s too old, there’s lots of older geeks hanging around but they have neckbeards and greasy combovers. His hair is tidy and his beard trimmed close. His clothing also lacks the typical Dorito dust or anime character. You remember, he was outside in the line. 
“Uh, hello?” You utter. 
“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he pulls out the chair across from you. He sits as your insides plunge. You know his voice. 
“Jacob?” You murmur in shock. How? Why? This isn’t the stringy teenager you met online. 
He nods, his jaw tensing, and he crosses an arm over the table, pointing to your half-eaten pretzel, “what’d you get on yours? I can’t decide between sweet or savoury.” 
“Who... are you?” You croak, head spinning as your eyes prick. You knew something was weird. You knew you weren’t talking to Jacob or whoever that boy was in the pictures. 
He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. As his chest deflates, you do too. He’s older than you, bigger than you, and by the looks of him, a lot better off. Why the hell would he be chatting with you? Why would he lie to you? 
“You’re right. I’m not Jacob,” he confesses, the colour draining from his face. He steeples his fingers and considers his next words carefully. You sit back and hug yourself defensively. This is fucked. “My name is Andy, Jacob is my son.” 
“Your son?” You eke out, “why-- why would you lie?” 
He cringes and takes another breath, “he was my son,” he corrects himself, “he... passed.” 
You feel like you’ve been struck. Your mouth falls open, stunned. Not only did he hide behind his son’s photos, but his dead son’s. Oh, god. You feel sick. No, you feel stupid. 
“Look, please, just hear me out. I just—it wasn’t meant to go on this long. When I first lied to you, it was supposed to be that one time. I was... I was lost. I just lost Jacob and I was going through his things. I started playing because I missed him. I wanted to feel like he was still there--” 
“No, no, you got on discord and you started talking to me. As him!” Your voice shakes and your eyes tinge. “That’s not just missing him.” 
“I know, you’re right. I lied but... I got lonely playing by myself so yes, I went onto that discord. You were nice. You didn’t call me a noob or whatever. And... and after work, looking forward to hearing your voice, it got me through a lot of pain. Being alone in that house after so long, I couldn’t cope--” 
“So you lied to me?” You stand and snatch your phone, nauseous to the core, “you manipulated me. How do you know—if you had just been you that I would’ve been any different? If you just wanted to play games, to be friends--” 
“I was scared--” 
“I don’t care if you were scared,” you hiss as you stomp forward. “You’re an adult.” 
He stands and blocks your path. You recoil, put off by his height. He’s a lot bigger on his feet. 
“Please, move or... I’ll scream,” you breathe. 
“You don’t have to do that. Just hear me out,” he pleads. 
“I don’t want to hear anything else from you, Jacob. Or Andy. Or whoever you really are,” you sneer, “move.” 
He shudders and hangs his head. He makes himself seem small as his shoulders round and he backs out of your way. You bite down and march past him.  
You need to get to a bathroom. Now. You’re going to spew up your guts. More important, you need to get yourself together before you go find Kara. She can’t know this happened. It’s too embarrassing. 
277 notes · View notes
mrs-dr-reid · 4 months ago
Text
Scary Dog Privilege
(A Wolverine Fic)
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Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader
Summary: The reader practically begs Logan to be her fake boyfriend at a gala, but ends up getting more than she bargained for
Genre: Fluffy throughout, a teensy bit angsty near the end, and a dash of "oh my god, just KISS ALREADY!!!" sprinkled in pretty much everywhere
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive language, fake boyfriend trope, friends to lovers, oblivious idiots in love, more than platonic touches, tw food/alcohol, crying, protective!Logan, the image of Logan in a tux (yes, that's a warning), Tony Stark being... himself, a Hugh Jackman-sized Wolverine and an average/small reader (size difference, yaaaaay)
A/N: Big thanks to @snixkers for being my designated Wolvie Beta Reader, as well as a handful of buddies in my writers discord for helping me turn the head words into page words (you know who you are).
Word Count: 4419
———————————————————————
This is going to be a disaster, Y/N thought as she stared hopelessly at the event notification on her phone: Superhero Gala tonight!!!
It was her least favorite day of the year, even though on paper it was a good thing. All of the Avengers and all the X-Men getting together and hosting a gala fundraiser to raise money for a different cause every year, as well as “celebrate the spirit of collaboration among heroes” or whatever preachy bullshit Charles is always on about.
She just knew that she’d inevitably be stuck getting hit on by drunken aristocratic strangers in a dress she didn’t want to be wearing, just like every other year. She’d much rather be honing her abilities or reading a book, but attendance was mandatory for every adult living at the mansion, much to her chagrin.
Y/N paced the length of her bedroom, worrying about her certain doom, when she got an idea. It wasn’t a very good idea, but it was better than no idea at all. She stuffed her phone in her back pocket, then ventured down to the kitchen where she was hoping she’d find who she was looking for, and she was right.
Logan was sitting at the island munching on a piece of toast and nursing a flask of what she assumed was whiskey, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She said, “Howlett, I need to talk to you in private.”
Logan looked up from his breakfast and said, “Good morning to you too, L/N,” mostly unbothered by her request.
Y/N rolled her eyes and said, “NOW, please.”
He raised a hand in surrender and said, “Alright, Bossy Pants,” before following her into the other room away from the prying ears of Jean, Scott, and Ororo.
Once they were out of earshot, Y/N said, “Okay, I’m gonna ask you to do something kinda weird, but I promise if you do it, I’ll never ask you for anything else ever again.”
Logan raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Okay?”
She took a deep breath. “I need you to be my scary dog privilege tonight at the gala.”
The request hung in the air between them as Logan tried to process what the hell she just said to him. “You need me to be your what?”
Y/N sighed exasperatedly, then elaborated. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend so the sleazy rich assholes leave me alone!” before steepling her hands and giving him her best puppy dog pout.
Logan wasn’t swayed, and he crossed his arms. “Why me? Couldn’t you ask McCoy?” Y/N glared at him, annoyed that he was being so difficult.
“Yes, I could ask Hank, but Hank is a teddy bear! You’re tall, you’re intimidating, it’s somewhat believable that we’d be together, and you have claws. And if you don’t do this, I promise you that if even one slimeball approaches me, I will use the ‘what not to do’ section of the Geneva Convention as a to-do list! So will you be my fake boyfriend or not?!”
Both of Logan’s eyebrows went up at this, and he said, “As entertainin’ as that would be, Chuck would probably ground you for committin’ war crimes against a civilian,” before starting to walk back to the kitchen.
In a panic, Y/N blabbed, “I’ll smuggle in cigars and booze for you for a month!” which stopped him in his tracks. Gotcha, Wolvie.
He turned back around, let out a groan in the back of his throat at the hopeful smile on Y/N’s face, then said, “Fine. But just this once,” before sticking out a hand to shake. She grinned, then shook his hand, trying her best to not think about how his hand completely engulfed hers or how warm and rough it was.
That evening, Logan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs alongside Scott for Jean and Y/N to come down, both men in sharp black tuxedos.
Scott said, “So, you’re L/N’s date tonight, huh?” with a shit-eating grin on his face, so Logan rolled his eyes, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt slightly. “She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Literally. If I refused, she was gonna kill the first stranger who told her she was pretty.”
Scott chuckled. “Yeah, sounds about right.” Then he fell silent, so Logan followed his gaze and tried to ignore the weird tug in the pit of his stomach when he saw Y/N trailing behind Jean. She looked like a completely different person than the woman he bantered with every day.
Her hair fell in a halo of perfect waves around her shoulders, her makeup was done to perfection, diamond studs decorated her ears, and her dress… oh, that dress.
While its rhinestone-encrusted fabric covered every inch of her body except her collarbone and her hands, it hugged every curve like it was made especially for her (and it probably was). The slight padding of the shoulders and the emerald green hue made her look almost ethereal, and the matching shoes he could see peeking out from under the hem with every step she took added to the effect, though he wasn’t sure why.
Y/N stopped in front of him. “Well, you clean up nice, Howlett,” and adjusted his tie (which just so happened to match her dress). That snapped him out of his reverie before he cleared his throat. “You too, L/N. Shall we?”
He offered her his arm, and she took it. “Let’s get this over with,” before letting him lead her into the ballroom.
After he had initially agreed to this admittedly crazy scheme, Logan and Y/N had gone over different forms of PDA that they were each comfortable with. Y/N had told Logan that he could do whatever he needed to do to sell it, whereas he was more hesitant to give her carte blanche, only allowing lingering arm and shoulder touches or a kiss on the cheek if the situation desperately called for it.
Logan instantly clocked the bar the second they stepped foot inside, and before he could say anything, Y/N quipped, “I need to be drunk half an hour ago, let’s move,” and started pulling him towards the bar, causing him to let out a snort as he allowed her to drag him along.
He ordered a whiskey on the rocks while she stuck with a vodka soda, and after they were given their drinks, Logan said, “Say what you want about Stark. At least he has the decency to spring for an open bar, and it’s the good shit,” while swirling the liquid in his glass.
Y/N snickered and said, “I’ll drink to that.” She held her glass up for cheers, and Logan clinked his glass against hers, then downed about half of his whiskey in one swig.
Y/N had to blink to rid the image of his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed from her mind, then she downed her drink as well. “Well, we better go find Charles and the others.”
He nodded in agreement, then put a hand at the small of her back as they ventured into the center of the room. Y/N spotted Charles amongst a circle of Avengers and X-Men including Captain America, Black Widow, and Iron Man as well as Hank, Scott, Jean, and Rogue. The two of them approached the circle, and Y/N said, “Partying hard or hardly partying?”
Charles looked away from the tall, blond man Y/N recognized from last year as Steve Rogers at the sound of her voice, then said, “Ah! There you two are! Logan, Y/N, I’m sure you remember Captain Rogers, Miss Romanoff, and Mr. Stark from last year’s benefit,” and gestured between them.
Y/N smiled and said, “Of course. It’s great to see you again,” while shaking each of their hands, earning a “Likewise” from Steve, a nod from Natasha, and a smirk from Tony. He was surely about to say something lewd, but Logan stuck his hand out to shake just in time. “Mighty nice of ya to foot the bill on some decent booze, Stark,” his arm snaking protectively around Y/N’s waist.
If Charles and the other X-Men didn’t clock it, which was highly unlikely, they thankfully said nothing about it, but Tony recovered quickly enough that it wasn’t necessary anyway. He shook Logan’s hand and said, “Of course. Only the best for the best, amiright?” before shooting a wink in Y/N’s direction.
Logan bristled slightly, so Y/N took that as an opportunity to place a hand on his chest and say, “Lo, I believe I was promised a dance?” raising her eyebrows pointedly at him.
He said, “Right, yeah, absolutely, Doll Face. Nice seeing you again, but duty calls. Boyfriend duty, that is,” nodded at Steve and Natasha, then shot an almost gloating wink in Tony’s direction before giving Y/N his arm and whisking her off to the dance floor.
As they left, Y/N swore she heard Scott whisper incredulously, “‘Boyfriend’’?!” and Jean smack him in the chest, which made her stomach flip slightly at the thought that only Scott questioned the arrangement.
As they reached the dance floor, Y/N took note of the string quartet a few paces from the floor. “Open bar, and live entertainment? That Stark sure knows how to throw a party.”
Logan rolled his eyes and huffed, “If he took hints as good as he threw parties, then we’d be in business,” before he remembered that he wasn’t actually Y/N’s boyfriend, and there was no reason for him to be that pissed. So why was he?
Y/N said, “He’s the outlier in this situation. I’ve clocked at least eight different guys that have made to come talk to me, but immediately backtracked once they noticed you standing right next to me. I should bribe you to be my scary dog privilege more often!”
He just scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, don’t hold your breath,” but there was still a hint of a smile on his face as they joined the other couples waiting for the next song.
The musicians took up their instruments and began playing again, so Logan extended a hand to Y/N and said, “May I have this dance?” while raising a teasing eyebrow at her. She smiled, then took it and replied, “You may.”
He grinned before spinning her into his arms, a peal of laughter escaping her as she collided with his solid chest in a very ungraceful manner.
She giggled, “Logan!” He shrugged and said, “Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?” neither of them acknowledging that she used his first name.
They kept dancing, Logan periodically making comments about the people around them just to hear her melodic laughter, and to any outsider, they looked just like any other couple; young (or seemingly young in Logan’s case) and in love, even though that wasn’t the case.
When the song ended, Y/N let out a breathless sigh and said, “I’m gonna go get a drink. Do you want anything?”
Logan held up a hand and said, “Nah, I’ve got all night to drink Stark outta house and home. Thank you, though.” Y/N nodded with a smile, then went to head for the bar, but Logan stopped her with a hand on her waist.
He said, “Hang on a sec, Doll,” then held her chin in place with his first two fingers and brushed some rogue strands of hair away from her face before murmuring, “There we go. Perfect.”
Y/N fought to keep a blush from staining her cheeks as she thanked him, then she scampered away to the bar after telling him she’d be back soon, hoping to god he didn’t notice the spike in her heart rate.
She reached the bar and ordered another vodka soda, somewhat breathlessly. As she waited, she ended up overanalyzing all that had transpired thus far, and she couldn’t make sense of any of it. Logan’s protectiveness around someone he knew wasn’t a threat? Going out of his way to play the Boyfriend Card in front of their teammates and collaborators? The pet names? The way he’s been looking at her since they stepped foot inside the ballroom?
As she was going through all of this, an unfamiliar man sidled up next to her at the bar and tried to strike up a conversation, much to Y/N’s dismay.
“Hey there, I’m Jeffrey. Did they give you a name to go with that pretty face?” and she just barely contained a gag/cringe combo before telling him her name. He smiled a bit too wide to be genuine, then said, “Can I order you a drink?” so she said, “I already ordered. And I promised my boyfriend I’d come find him as soon as I got it, so…,” and craned her neck to search for the bartender.
Jeffrey scoffed.“Some boyfriend he is, letting a lady like you wander off by herself.” That made Y/N inhale sharply. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and he’s well aware of that,” she said curtly, silently daring him to say one more stupid thing so she could knock him into next month.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, his voice faltered and his eyes trailed up to someone much taller than her. She didn’t have the chance to turn around before the familiar scent of pine, whiskey, and tobacco filled her nostrils and a pair of lips pressed a kiss to her jaw.
Logan husked out right next to her ear, “Hey, Baby. Thought you were gonna come find me once you got your drink. Dinner’s about to start.” One of his hands slid around to rest against her stomach protectively, so she placed a hand on his arm and said, “I was! It just got busy, I guess. We had the home-front advantage earlier,” trying to pretend like she wasn’t silently losing her mind over what he’d just done and praying to whatever deity existed that he couldn’t smell her body’s reaction to what had just occurred.
She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled at her before nodding his head in Jeffrey’s direction and saying, “Who’s this punk?”
She shot a quick glare at the man in question, then looked back up at Logan. “Just someone who is very lucky you showed up when you did,” she said with a smile before going up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
The bartender arrived with her drink not a moment too soon, and as she grabbed it, said, “It was nice to meet you, Jeffrey,” and then let Logan lead her back to their designated table, choosing to ignore how Logan looked over his shoulder and snarled at the man as they walked away.
Dinner thankfully went off without any hitches, but since Y/N and Logan were seated next to each other, the constant whiffs she got of Logan's unique (and intoxicating) musk whenever he so much as shifted in his chair were driving her insane. Not to mention the absentminded circles he was drawing on her leg under the table, which he didn’t need to do since nobody could see.
Just as she thought she’d be able to beeline it to somebody’s office or the bathroom or anywhere else to hide, Jean pulled her aside while asking to talk to her in private, making her think a string of expletives that she was well aware Jean could still hear as she allowed herself to be dragged to an unoccupied corner of the ballroom.
Once they were away from listening ears, Jean said, “Okay, what is going on between you and Logan? Yesterday you were threatening to shove him off the roof, and now you two are all over each other! And don’t even try to lie,” while raising a questioning eyebrow. Y/N let out a petulant whine, but Jean shot her a look that Y/N liked to call “The Mom Glare”, so she let out a loud sigh and explained everything, her voice growing more hysterical with every word:
“Okay, I bribed Logan into being my fake boyfriend for the night to keep the creeps away, and I told him to do whatever he needed to do so people would believe it, but I realized that I like what he’s been doing way too much for us to be just friends, and I’m losing my goddamn mind, Jean!”
Jean put her hands on Y/N’s arms to ground her and said, “Whoa, calm down. What exactly has he done that’s got you so worked up?” Y/N let out a mildly panicked laugh, then said, “For starters, if he was within arms reach of me, his hands were on me. He was being super protective of me in front of Tony even though we all know he could snap the Tin Man like a toothpick if he wanted to. He kissed me on the jaw earlier when some sleazeball was hitting on me by the bar, then snarled at him as we walked away. And to top it off, he was drawing circles on my leg under the table at dinner, and I’m not convinced he realized he was doing it, because I did nothing to stop him. Ugh, this is so complicated!”
Jean made a confused face at this. “Why does it have to be complicated? You two clearly have feelings for each other that are more than platonic. And if I may, he agreed to this crazy scheme of yours, didn’t he? At least some part of him feels the same way about you.” This earned another whine from Y/N.
She started rambling, “I don’t want this to change our relationship! I mean, yeah, I’ve had a crush on him for years because I’m not blind, but we’re just friends! And we’ve always been just friends! We bust each other's chops, we affectionately threaten each other with violence, we smuggle contraband into the school for each other even though Charles absolutely knows we’re doing it, so there’s literally no reason for us to be so secretive about it. I can’t just throw that away because I’m in love with him!”
Unfortunately, she didn’t notice Jean’s face pale or her attempts to get her to stop talking until a familiar deep voice said, “You’re in love with me?”
Y/N’s blood ran cold, and she turned around to see Logan standing there with a confused expression on his face. Her stomach clenched, and she said meekly, “How much of that did you hear?” hoping he wouldn’t say what she thought he was going to say, and bracing herself for the worst.
“Everything after ‘complicated’.” Fuck.
A whimper escaped her throat, and she heard Jean scamper off behind her. She sighed and whispered, “Shit,” squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment. Logan made to move towards her, but Y/N recoiled from him and said, “Don’t!”, before side-stepping him and sprinting out of the ballroom as fast as her wildly impractical attire would allow her, ignoring the concerned calls of her name from her fellow X-Men.
Y/N knew Logan would catch up to her eventually, but for the moment, the only thing on her mind was getting as far away from the ballroom and him as possible. She ended up in the hedge maze, and she fell onto a stone bench to catch her breath, but all too soon she heard Logan yelling her name.
She ignored him, then proceeded to bury her face in her hands and cry due to the sheer irony of the situation: She was hiding in a stupid hedge maze from the only man she’s ever wanted because she can’t bring herself to face him.
Logan rounded the corner a few moments later, and the second he saw her on the bench and heard her sniffling, he knelt before her. “Hey, don’t cry, Sweetheart.” He gently pulled her hands away from her face.
Y/N just shook her head and whispered, “I can’t do this, Logan,” through her tears, making Logan’s eyebrows furrow before he said, “Can’t do what, Darlin’?” and went to wipe her cheek with his thumb, but it was too much for her to take.
Y/N flinched away from his touch and sobbed out, “This! The pet names, the tender touches, you looking at me like that! I can’t go back to just friends after everything that’s happened tonight, I can’t! If you’re gonna let me down, please just let me down gently because it’s the only way I can bear losing you!”
A fresh flood of tears blurred her vision enough that she couldn’t see his face, and she tried to get up to run back to her room or anywhere else where she could lock the door and try to pretend like this whole night was just a bad dream, but Logan’s hands shot out to hold her in place. “Y/N, who said anything about letting anybody down or losing me?”
Y/N startled at the sound of her first name coming out of his mouth, and she blinked back her tears to find him looking at her so tenderly she thought she was going to melt into the grass below her. Logan cupped her face in his hand and said,
“From the day that I met you, I knew I needed to find a way to keep you in my life. For a while, that was by being your friend. But only being your friend isn’t enough for me anymore. I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my entire life.” His thumb stroked her cheek comfortingly as he spoke.
Y/N giggled through her tears, and she said, “That’s a long ass time, Wolvie.”
He chuckled back and said, “My point exactly, Doll,” squeezing her knee for emphasis. Y/N looked down at the ground and said, “You’re gonna get grass stains on your pants.”
Logan raised an eyebrow challengingly before bracing his hands on the bench on either side of her and purposely grinding his knees into the grass, pulling a shocked laugh from her. “Logan Howlett!”
He chuckled at her admonishing tone, then leaned in to press his forehead against hers and murmured, “It stopped being pretend for me the moment you came downstairs in this dress,” as he ran a hand down her leg to fiddle with the hem of her dress.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and she whispered, “You had me at ‘hey, baby’.” For a moment they just stared at each other, but Logan’s resolve broke when she breathed his name, and he surged forward to capture her lips in a desperate kiss that said everything words couldn’t then.
His tongue ran along the seam of her lips, and she let him in without hesitation as she gripped the back of his jacket and he held her against his chest like she’d disappear if he let go. Y/N could have stayed in his embrace forever, and Logan could have kept her like that indefinitely.
Unfortunately, humans need oxygen to live, so Y/n pulled her lips away to at least attempt to catch her breath, but Logan had other plans.
He trailed his kisses down her jaw to her neck, and his hand started roaming around her back to find the zipper of her dress, but Y/N put a hand to his chest to stop him and said, “You better take me on a real date before you try something like that, Howlett.” He buried his face in her shoulder and groaned disappointedly.
Y/N giggled, then said, “As far as I know, the gala doesn’t end for another few hours,” to which Logan leaned back so he was sitting on his heels.
“I think I like where your head's at, Princess,” a smirk crossing his face before he jumped to his feet, scooped her up bridal style, and started jogging back to the mansion, his heart swelling at her squeal of laughter and how her arms tightened around his neck.
Logan set Y/N down outside of the ballroom, then held out his hand and said, “Ready, Darlin’?”
She smiled and said, “Always, Big Guy,” before lacing her fingers with his and walking into the room, where seemingly every Avenger and X-Man was standing and waiting with bated breath.
Y/N bit her lip and looked up at Logan, who let out a resigned sigh and said, “Ahhhh, fuck it,” before sweeping her into a dip and kissing the life out of her, an eruption of shocked laughter, wolf whistles, and applause coming from the gathering of heroes, making Y/N smile against his lips and cup his face in her hand.
When he pulled his lips away, Logan murmured, “I’m in love with you, too. Didn’t get to say it earlier,” making Y/N snark, “Oh, really? I never would have guessed,” before giggling and reconnecting their lips, Logan chuckling as he held her even closer.
Scott hollered teasingly, “Hey, lovebirds! Mind wrapping it up?! We’ve got places to be!”
Both Logan and Y/N simultaneously flipped him off while they stayed engrossed in each other.
“Yeah, fair enough,” Scott said, making Jean laugh at him. Logan eventually stood Y/N up again, then said, “Hey, Stark, is there any good shit left? I don’t know about you, but I finally got the girl, and I feel like celebrating.” As he spoke, he shot a wink at Y/N solely to make her blush.
Tony said, “Absolutely!” A waiter came over with two glasses of champagne, and even Y/N could tell that it was high-quality stuff just from the smell.
Logan held his glass towards her, then said, “To you and me, Darlin’.” Y/N clinked her glass against his in cheers and said, “You and me, Bubba,” everyone cheering as Logan kissed her temple.
As an avid romance novel reader, she probably should have seen this coming, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care about anything else besides the comforting feeling of Logan’s arm around her waist and the knowledge that he was all hers for as long as she wanted him, which was forever.
———————————————————————
MCU Taglist: @libraryofloveletters
Let me know in the comments if you want to be added
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beatrice-otter · 2 years ago
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Why AO3 needs to be accountable for reducing fandom racism in its internal culture and the archive
You've probably seen end-otw-racism in the last few days, trying to get people to support their efforts to get the AO3 to actually DO something about the racism problem that AO3 has admitted that it has. Here's their call to action post, with a brief summary of the problems and what they want people to do about it. Basically, there have been problems with racism at AO3 since the beginning, and they did acknowledge the problems in 2020 and promise to fix them, and haven't actually ... done most of the things they said they would. They have started to implement blocking and muting, which is good, because those are vital tools for fans of color to protect themselves from racist harassment, but they haven't updated their TOS or changed their Abuse policies or hired the diversity consultant they said they were going to. And that's a big problem. Among other things the original head of the Abuse team--the one who set it up and developed the policies and procedures still in use today!--was a noted racist who has since been banned from at least one convention and at least one fanwork exchange for making a lot of fans of color uncomfortable. This is not the only problem with a white supremacist culture in the organization, but it is emblematic of the larger issues with the organization's culture that have not been addressed. (That link is from 2020, but nothing substantial has changed since then, alas.) If you think that the AO3 is fine, and people are overstating things, I really encourage you to go read that post and the links in it. And then go read these tweet threads about what the state of things at AO3 is now. Maybe also go read Stitch's excellent essays on racism in fandom (and remember that people have tried to destroy her life--get her fired and get her on terrorist watch lists--for writing them). What sorts of things does end-otw-racism want? Basic stuff that AO3 should already be doing. For example, people should not be allowed to harass people through AO3 using trolling fanworks, harassing tags, and comments. Yet when people use these parts of AO3 infrastructure to harass people of color and create a hostile environment for them, AO3 Abuse says there's nothing they can do and it doesn't count as harassment under the site's TOS. end-otw-racism is not calling for censorship. They are calling for the OTW to realize that AO3 currently has a Nazi Bar Problem. You cannot have a safe that is safe for both nazis and people of color. If you try, the nazis will harass and drive out the people of color. Tolerance is not a moral principle, it is a peace treaty; if one side does not abide by it, asking the other side to abide by it is asking them to lay down and accept their abuse. And free speech is incredibly important, but it has limits; and those limits are where you are using speech to harass people and incite violence, which some people are using AO3 to do! I hope that you will all support end-otw-racism in calling for the AO3 to fulfill its promises and address the issues in question, and I hope the AO3 will listen. comments Comment? https://ift.tt/4BR98XN
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tinfoil-jones · 2 months ago
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Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 7
Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.
Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications
Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here
WARNING: TW/ the topic of suicide.
First - Prev - Next
CH.7
“You really need to tidy this place up, Stanford. I know you live by yourself, but that’s no excuse to have papers and books scattered around like a dust devil came through.”
“It’s organized chaos, Fiddleford. I know where everything is.”
“And this pile of unwashed laundry?”
“I’ll get to it. Washing clothes is a waste of time, and I’m a busy man.”
“Uh huh, and this pile of unopened letters on your counter? What are all of these, Stanford?”
“Several of our colleagues started sending me letters en masse.”
“And you didn’t open or read them?”
“I received so many at once, it must have been an invitation for a convention. I wasn't interested in attending one at the time. I’ll get to them eventually.”
“These are dated over a year-.”
“Eventually.”
“You’re stubborn as a mule. At least wash your dishes. You’ve been categorizing your notes for the past hour - what are you trying to do?”
“I’m trying to find the definitive event.”
“For Stan?”
“Yes. You said that something extremely traumatic caused the memory loss; if I can identify what event exactly caused this, maybe I can fix this. The problem is, however…”
“Is that you’ve handled the situation in the most extreme way you could think of?”
“No. That isn’t it- and that isn’t true.”
“Mhmmm.”
“The problem is there’s too much.”
“Too much?”
“Trauma. He’s offhandedly mentioned terrible things- even when I met him in town, he had three stab wounds and acted like it was no big deal. And the more we ask, the more we prod, there’s more. The ones we heard were just the ones he was comfortable enough to mention, there has to be worse things he will not or can not speak of. And that thought… scares me, Fiddleford. I knew he wasn’t doing fantastic, but it wasn’t… It wasn’t supposed to be this bad.”
“That’s not your fault Stanford - didn’t you say he left home? It is sad he was too stubborn to ask you or anyone else in your family for help, but I suppose you two have that in common yeah?”
“...”
“I’ll admit that might have been tactless of me- Stanford? What’s- Hey! Hey now, it’s okay! It’s okay- I’m here for you.”
“...Five.”
“What’re you whimpering into your hands, now?”
“Five times. He wrote me a list of people who have tried to kill him in the past. There were thirty names.”
“That’s terrible, but not entirely surprising from what he’s-.”
“He listed himself five times.”
(...)
“How could you be so selfish?”
“I’m a selfish guy, I dunno what you want me to say.”
“Why do you only ever think of yourself?”
“Can’t afford not to. It’s dog eat dog out there, you know.”
“Will you take this seriously?”
“Will you tell me what you’re upset about this time? I can’t read minds, and I’ve known you for four days! Throw me a bone here, PhD.”
“You tried to- to take your own life?”
“Yeah. A couple times. Never succeeded, but that’s the story of my life.”
“Why would you do that? Why would you try something like-”
“Okay I’ve had enough of your judgemental bullshit. I’ve been playing along with your ‘missing twin’ narrative, the least you could do is not fucking go there. I’m a homeless criminal on the run all the time. You tell me why you think I’d want to die sometimes.
Use that big fucking brain of yours for two seconds and think statistics - homeless people kill themselves more than ‘regular’ people, so do prisoners and convicts. You’re both? Oooh boy you’re in for a time. You have to fight to survive all of the time, and sometimes… sometimes you just get so tired, you want to stop fighting you… you just want a break from it all. You want it to just end.”
“Stanley…”
“...”
“...Talk to me. Please. I’m not trying to judge you, I just want to understand.”
"...Let's say I am this mystery twin-"
"You are."
"I'm being hypothetical here, listen. Let's say I am this mystery twin of yours. Specs was saying he didn't even know you had a twin."
"How did-."
"You pressed the mute button, not deafen; I could still hear you. Anyways, your best friend didn't know you had a twin. So to your own best friend you never mentioned 'me' over what, at least 4 years or however long it took you to get a degree? Or in the years that followed? Not even once?
If I'm your twin, I can't have been that important for you to do all of this. I screwed something up, and you don't want me in your life."
"..."
"I don’t know what you're trying to prove here- if you’re going through some guilt or pity or whatever. I'm just some drifter! I don’t have anything, and I don’t have anyone. You shouldn't be wasting your time like this. I'm not worth any of the time or effort you’ve put into this. Even if I was who you think I am. Because that guy? That guy fucked up so badly you didn't think about him for ten years. And I'm just as big of a fuck up."
"Is that... is that what you think about yourself?"
"Stanford, that's all that I know about myself."
*Ford abruptly opens the barred door and walks through the forcefield into the cell*
"Woah woah, I'm not looking for a fight-."
*Ford hugs him, Stan just stands there*
"I wish you called, reached out to me, I-. I wish I reached out."
“...He probably wishes he reached out, too.”
To be continued...
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fadedfrills699 · 3 months ago
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RADFEMS AND RADFEM CURIOUS GIRLBLOGGERS I PRESENT TO YOU MY ULTIMATE ANTI- PORN READING LIST
- I provided summaries, repost with your thoughts…add your own recommendations!! 🩷🩷
“Pornography and power in Michel Foucalt’s thought” by Bohdana Kurylo (2017)
Looks at foucauldian perspectives and foucault's concept of biopower and that of his critique of the repressive hypothesis
Also focuses on the power dynamics of pornography and its discourse and representation as Foucault's ideas regarding the production of knowledge and regulation of bodies is applied to this form of thinking
"The Sexual Liberals and the Attack on Feminism" edited by Dorchen Leidholdt and Janice G. Raymond (1990)
Critique of postmodern sexual liberalism which is in defence of prostitution and pornography, collection of essays (some are not of relevance), mainly regarding the cultural exploitation of women by proxy of pornography
“Sexualisation of young people review” by Linda Papadopoulos (2010)
Looks at the direct effects of pornography on cultural conditioning from a empirical psychology viewpoint
“Pornography consumption and cognitive affective distress” by Michal Privara (2023)
Discusses internet pornography, emphasising the significant long term effects of porn on both individuals and societal perceptions of gender roles and sexuality
“Feminist critique of the feminist critique of pornography, a essay” by Nadine Strossen (1993)
Point of critique - opposing view perchance>
Strossen discusses how the anti-porn stance is counterproductive and desires a more nuanced view which recognises womens various responses to such frameworks, ew.
“Pornography and rape: a casual model” by Diana Russel (1988)
Relationship between porn consumption and rape, contribution of cultural conditioning of men ergo that of women by proxy, discusses the normalisation of sex based violence, objectification and dehumanization, reinforcement of patriarchal gender norms through identities being subsumed and subservient in conventional pornographic representations
Also discusses the rape myth acceptance (RMA) which is the acceptance of false beliefs, stereotypes, and statements regarding rape (so antiquated and ew)- interesting to look at the illinois rape myth acceptance scale, and also the REAL scale which is the Rape Excusing Attitudes and Language Scale
“Internet pornography: a social psychological perspective on internet sexuality” by William Fisher and Azy Barak (2001)
Examines the accessibility and anonymity of online porn and how this contributes to widespread use and its impact on individuals alongside within the broader context of society
Psychological effects and also the potential desensitisation and normalisation of certain sexual behaviours and attitudes
“Sexuality, pornography, and method: ‘pleasure under patriarchy’” by Catherine MacKinnon (1989)
Intersection of sexuality and pornography, discusses porns potentiality to shape societal attitudes towards sex and power, influencing both the sexes in their perceptions of sexuality and a way in which upholds oppressive societal frameworks…
“A dyadic approach to pornography use and relationship satisfaction among heterosexual couples: role of pornography acceptance and anxious attachment” by Megan Mass, Sara Vasilenko, and Brian Willoughby (2018)
BIT RANDOM _ NOT DIRECTLY RELATED
Looks at how higher pornography acceptance is associated with greater relationship satisfaction, while higher anxious attachment was linked to lower satisfaction, looking at both individual and partner use of pornography
“Against proper objects” by Judith Butler (1993)
Draws from her seminal work. Gender trouble, and gender performativity, also looks at political implications
Grounded in philosophy as well, looking at phenomenology and poststructuralism
“Pornography as a biopolitical phenomenon” by Aura-Elena Schussler (2016)
Discusses how pornography functions as a foucauldian biopolitical phenomenon, how such power and knowledge intersects to control bodies, porn existing in this framework to produce sexual subjectivities
Looks at discussions on discipline, surveillance, and normalisation of sexual behaviours
Would also like to recommend the movie “not a love story: a film about pornography” - really cute if not yet watched, by Bonnie Klein in 1981
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aventurineswife · 2 months ago
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Could I request Aventurine with a s/o that gives weird names to her pets? Calling one of her cats Clawdia, her rabbit Foofoo, etc.
Odds and Affection
Summary: Aventurine is charmed and amused by his partner’s unconventional names for her pets, like Clawdia the cat and Foofoo the rabbit. Despite his initial skepticism, Aventurine finds himself endeared by her whimsical personality, which brings a lighthearted warmth to his life.
Tags: Aventurine x Female!Reader, Fluff, Established Relationship, Playful Banter, Domestic Bliss, Pet Shenanigans, Lighthearted Moments, Mutual Affection.
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Aventurine had always been the epitome of sophistication. His charm and presence were magnetic, and he knew it. A man who lived for the thrill of a gamble, he often sought out high-stakes situations where only the most calculated moves would lead to a reward. However, there was one thing that consistently threw him off balance — his partner’s odd penchant for naming pets.
It was a typical evening, with the warm, dim glow of the lanterns flickering in the cozy living room. Aventurine, dressed in his signature attire, reclined on the sofa, his long fingers lightly tapping against the armrest. He was lost in thought, his eyes gazing out the window, watching the city’s lights twinkle below.
You, on the other hand, were lounging on the floor, your focus on the small army of creatures that had taken over your shared space. The small cat, Clawdia, was playfully swatting at a dangling ribbon, while Foofoo, the rabbit, hopped around with an eager energy, its fur bouncing as it made its way through the room.
“Clawdia, don’t claw the rug, darling,” you said absently, your attention never wavering from the playful creatures. “Foofoo, no eating the plants again. I’ll never get them back from you.”
Aventurine’s lips quirked into a half-smile as he watched the scene unfold before him. His gaze flickered between the pets and you, his heart swelling with affection, though he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You know,” he said with a bemused tone, “Clawdia and Foofoo aren’t exactly… conventional names for pets, are they?”
You looked up from the floor, an innocent grin spreading across your face. “What? You don’t like them? I think they suit them perfectly.”
Aventurine’s lips twitched. “Clawdia, really? And Foofoo?” He leaned back, his arms resting comfortably behind his head. “Are we to assume their personalities match their names?”
You leaned over to scratch Clawdia behind the ears as the cat purred happily, then you gave Foofoo a gentle pat on the head as the rabbit hopped toward you. “Well, Clawdia’s a bit dramatic, always getting into things. And Foofoo,” you paused dramatically, “is just so fluffy and cute. I think it suits her bubbly personality.”
Aventurine raised an eyebrow, clearly amused but still intrigued. “And what about the others?”
You giggled, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Oh, you know there’s Sprinkles, the hamster. She has a thing for… snacks. And then there’s Mr. Pickles, my turtle — I’m sure he’s plotting world domination in his shell.”
Aventurine’s eyes softened with affection as you continued to list the eccentric names, his previous skepticism giving way to an endearing warmth. "I see... so it's not just their names that are unconventional, but their very essence."
He chuckled quietly, running a hand through his hair. "It seems they’re in good hands, though. You bring a certain… whimsy to them."
You smiled brightly, holding Foofoo up to his eye level. "Just like I bring whimsy to you?"
Aventurine leaned forward, his hand lightly brushing against your cheek, his eyes glinting mischievously. “You have a way of making everything around you more... interesting.” His gaze shifted to the animals. “Though, I admit, I never thought I'd find myself so charmed by a rabbit named Foofoo and a cat named Clawdia.”
You leaned into his touch, your voice softening as you gazed at him with a tender expression. “I’m glad you like them… and me.”
Aventurine smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "I love both," he said smoothly. "But don’t think that means you can start calling me something silly."
You narrowed your eyes teasingly. “Oh, but what if I did? Would you mind being called… Mr. Adventurepants?”
Aventurine’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he shook his head. “Mr. Adventurepants, huh? Well, if you insist…”
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Then you’d better be prepared for a whole new world of nicknames, my dear. You know how I am with high-stakes wagers.”
You raised an eyebrow, the playful challenge in his tone not lost on you. "I’m ready for whatever you throw at me, Aventurine. You know I always take risks."
He smiled, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze. “Well then, let’s see if you’re as daring as your pets’ names. Perhaps you can live up to the game of life... just like Clawdia and Foofoo.”
You laughed, your heart light as you gazed up at him, the comfort of being in each other’s company warming the room. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Aventurine.”
With a soft chuckle, Aventurine leaned in for a kiss, the playful and whimsical nature of your relationship sealing the moment. Life, as always, was a game — but with you, it was one he was more than willing to play.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago
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Chapter 13- There's No Place Like Home
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Summary: 6 months ago, Javier Peña quite literally bumped into you and changed your life forever. 6 months later, Javi prepares to ask you to spend your forever with him.
Word Count: 13.2K (reasonable of me tbh)
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, massive breeding kink, one use of daddy (in reference to actually being a dad, but STILL), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mentions of food/eating, Javi being a nervous wreck, so many surprises (hehehehehe), literally so much fluff and love and happiness AHHHHHHHHH
A/N: It's here!!! The moment we've all been waiting for since these two lovebirds first met 😭😭😭💖💖💖 I have no words, only loud screams into the abyss bc of how happy and in love these idiots are!!! Thank you to everyone that has been along on this ride, your love and support means more to me than you know 🥺🫶🏻 Also literally not that anyone cares, but I picked May 27th as just a random day when I first started writing, and the way I literally SCREAMED when I found out that Thanksgiving in 1997 fell on November 27th?!?! That, and when I first started, Javi was not proposing until the spring/summer OOPS 🤷🏼‍♀️😂
Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter
November 27th, 1997. 
6 months. 
6 months since the day he quite literally bumped into you. 
6 months since he had first laid eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 
6 months since the moment he already knew he was head over heels in love with you. 
6 months of waiting to ask the most important question of his life. 
Because tomorrow, exactly 6 months from the day he had met you, Javier Peña was going to ask you to marry him. 
And he was a fucking nervous wreck. 
It had killed Javi to wait this long. By conventional standards, 6 months wasn’t that long to know someone before you asked them to spend the rest of their life with you, but in all honesty, Javi would have proposed to you 3 months ago after he first got his mom’s ring from his dad. He had never been so sure of anything in his entire life- he wanted to spend forever with you. And now, after what felt like years of waiting, making sure that everything had fallen in place to give you the best proposal he could possibly imagine, the day was almost here. 
Javi wanted everything to be perfect. He needed it to be. You were the most perfect person he had ever met, and to him, you deserved everything, and then some. He wasn’t nervous you were going to say no, or that he was second guessing his decision, Javi was a mess because there was nothing more he wanted than to give you a day you would never forget. 
It was also going to now be a day Chucho Peña never forgot either. After everything had settled into place for Javi to finally start finalizing his plans, his poor dad had now become much more involved in planning a proposal than he ever thought he’d have to be. At this point, he was truly trying his best to not find it humorous how worked up his son had been over it, knowing that there was no way in the world you were going to be anything short of amazed, let alone say no. 
“And you’re sure that you’ve got the-” 
“Javier. This is probably the 14th time you have gone over the plan with me. Yes. I am sure I have everything you need. I have both lists you insisted I take, everyone knows where to be and what to do to help. Take a deep breath, hijo.” Chucho chuckled, taking a sip of his beer as he and Javi sat on the back porch of the Peña ranch, watching the sky slowly fade from bright yellows and pinks to faded blues as the sun dipped below the horizon. 
“Okay. Sorry. I’m uh- Fuck, Pops, I’m nervous as hell.” Javi swallowed, running his thumb along the condensation of his can, anxiously drawing little circles in the water droplets. 
“Really? I can’t tell.” Chucho joked, smirking to himself as he glanced over at his son, bouncing his leg against the chair he was sitting on. “Javier, what is there to be nervous about? It’s not like she’s going to say no.” Javi looked up at his Dad, the worn smile of his wrinkled face bringing him some relief from the nervous state he was in. 
“No, I know. I just- I just want it to be perfect. I want it to be perfect for her. I’ve been thinking about this for so long and now it’s finally fucking here. She deserves everything, Pops. I love her so much.” Chucho reached over, patting his hand against Javi’s shoulder, gently squeezing his fingertips against the soft fabric of his flannel shirt. 
“Javier, it will be perfect because you love her, and she loves you.” Chucho paused for a moment, quietly laughing to himself as he looked over at Javi. “Have I ever told you the story of how I proposed to your mamá?” A mischievous grin grew across Chucho’s face as Javi nodded, taking another swig of his drink. 
“Yeah, you did it at the lake, right?” 
“Yes. But that is the short version of the story, Mijo. I was so nervous when I proposed to your mother, that as we were walking up to the lake so I could get down on one knee and ask her to marry me, I tripped over my own feet and fell right to the ground, and the ring came out of my pocket. I didn’t put it in a box, because I was worried she would see, and so she had to help me find her engagement ring in the grass because I couldn’t find it. Until the day she died, she never let me live it down. But it is still one of my favorite memories of the two of us. It was still perfect. Javier, that girl would marry you if you got down on one knee and asked her in your living room. I have no doubt in my mind that tomorrow will be a day that she will never forget.” 
“Fuck, guess I better add tripping over myself to the list of things I need to worry about, thanks, Dad.” The pair laughed, shaking their heads as Chucho gave Javi one last pat on the shoulder before he placed his hands on his knees, letting out a heavy grunt as he pushed himself up out of his chair. 
“Cabrón (asshole). Now go, you should be spending time with your future esposa (wife) instead of your old man the night before your engagement. I promise, I have everything taken care of.” Javi followed his dad’s suit, setting down his beer before standing up, reaching out to wrap his arms around Chucho in a tight embrace. 
“Thanks, Pops. For everything. Te amo.” 
“Of course, mijo. Te amo mucho. I am so happy for you, Javier. She is such a wonderful woman. I am so glad she is going to be a part of our family. I know that your mamá is smiling down on you- She would have loved her so much, Javier. I love her, too. And now, I’m finally one step closer to mis nietos (my grandchildren).” Chucho playfully nudged Javi as he rolled his eyes, giving his son one last embrace as Javi headed out to his truck. As he turned over the ignition, Javi smiled to himself as he turned up the volume of the Queen’s Greatest Hits album you had picked out from your last drive.
“Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had. Been with you such a long time, You're my sunshine, and I want you to know that my feelings are true, I really love you. Oh, you're my best friend.” 
Javi couldn’t help but let a stupidly wide grin spread across his cheeks as he listened to the lyrics of the track that had begun playing over the quiet crunch of the gravel under his truck tires as he backed out of the driveway to drive home. Because tomorrow? Tomorrow, Javier Peña was going to ask his best friend in the whole world, the woman he loved more than life itself, you, to be his wife. 
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Even though it was barely long enough for you to consider it to be a school “break”, you were glad to have today off to prep for your first Laredo Thanksgiving tomorrow. This would be the first time you would ever spend the holiday away from your childhood home, where your family had hosted every Thanksgiving for as long as you could remember. As much as you would have loved to fly back to go see everyone, plane tickets for the long weekend had been ridiculously expensive, and with just going to visit them a month ago for your cousin’s wedding, and future plans to go back to Chicago over Christmas break, your parents had been insistent on the fact that it was okay that you weren’t going to be able to make it home for Thanksgiving. While of course, you had been heartbroken you would have to miss seeing your family, from the moment Chucho found out you were Texas bound for the holiday, he was quick to make sure you felt nothing short of absolutely included in celebrating with the Peñas, even if it was just you, Javi and Chucho. 
Javi still had to work on your day off, so you had spent your free time catching up on chores around the house, taking a well deserved nap and now, you were working on the apple pie you insisted to Chucho bring for the celebration tomorrow, as much as he had tried to convince you that you didn’t need to bring anything. 
Somewhere along the lines of your childhood, it had become a Wednesday before Thanksgiving tradition that your family would watch The Wizard of Oz with your siblings before going to bed (although now as an adult, you had a feeling your parents put it on for you and your brothers so they could get the house ready without the four of you doing any more damage), so it only felt right that you put in on to watch as you waited for your pies to cook in the oven and Javi to get home. You shuffled through your VHS collection under the TV, rummaging around until you pulled out the worn tape, pushing it into the VHS player. After the movie had begun to play, you turned back around, letting out a defeated sigh at the current state of your kitchen. 
As much as you loved baking, it always seemed to feel like a bomb had gone off by the time you were done as you looked around to see bowls, cutting boards and rolling pins in disarray on your counters. You grimaced to yourself looking around at the mess you had made, rolling up the sleeves of Javi’s oversized Texas A&M sweatshirt you had thrown on after you had woken up from your nap. With the way you had set up your apartment when you moved in, you were able to get a good view of your TV from the kitchen, cranking up the volume on your remote so you could listen and quote along to the movie as you worked on trying your best to clean up before Javi came home to your baking tornado. 
At this point, you had seen the Wizard of Oz enough to quote it from front to back, especially as you and your brothers very early on in life had easily determined who got to be each part when you watched together. By default, because you were the only girl, your brothers told you that you had to be Dorthy, which you didn’t mind because you got the main part and to have Todo (Although your favorite family dog, Otis, an overweight yellow lab, wasn’t very pleased about having to be a part of you and your brothers yearly production). Charlie was always the Tin Man, being the oldest and most empathetic out of the rest of your brothers, David was Courage the Cowardly Lion, claiming lions were cool animals and that he was the bravest of your siblings, much to your disagreement, leaving Patrick as the Scarecrow, you and your brothers giving him the title of the smartest idiot you’d ever meet. After finishing washing the dishes, you had moved on to wiping down the counters, pausing and smiling to yourself as you heard the start to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” playing from the TV. You couldn’t help yourself as you began to sing along, swaying back and forth as you lazily wiped up your mess. You were so caught up in singing and dancing to yourself that you hadn’t even heard Javi open the door behind you. 
Javi had quickly come to find out after moving in with you that not only coming home to you, but coming home to find you singing along to whatever CD you had playing as you meandered through the apartment, completely oblivious to his presence, was one his favorite things. There were times he could hear your voice as he went to unlock the door, making sure to open it extra quietly so he could stand in the doorway for a few moments, taking in the warmth and joy that radiated from you as you were lost in your own world. He soaked in every moment, watching every sway of your hip and shake of your head until you realized that he was home, making him just as happy for the big hug and kiss he got from you and your excited giggles as you greeted him.  
He couldn’t quite make out what you had been signing as he carefully turned his key in the lock, gently closing the door behind him, grinning at the image of you dressed head to toe in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, messy bun plopped on your head as you bent over the counter, resting your elbow on the hard surface with your head propped up on your chin. 
“Somewhere, over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow, why then oh why can’t I? If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can’t I?” 
Quietly setting down his bag and keys, Javi snuck his way over to the kitchen loud enough for you not be completely startled by his presence, as the song came to an end, making you turn your head over your shoulder to see Javi coming behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist from the back he pressed his chest into your back, making you giggle as he planted quick, soft kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder. 
“I could listen to you sing all day, Hermosa.” Javi rasped into your ear, playfully shaking you in his grasp. “Wizard of Oz?” He asked, gesturing towards the TV as the movie continued in the background. 
“Really? You want me to sing Days of the Week for you? I didn’t get to sing it today since there was no school, I really need to get my fix.” You retorted, giving Javi a little nudge as he rolled his eyes. 
“Please for the love of God, no.” The both of you laughed as you looked back at the TV, watching Todo escape from the back of Mrs. Gulch’s bike basket. 
“My brothers and I would always watch it the night before Thanksgiving. Not really sure how the tradition started, but figured I’d throw it on. I can turn it off if you don’t wanna watch or put on something else.” You replied, reaching over for the remote. 
“No, keep it on, Osita.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, arms still resting along your hips as he held you. “I can’t fuckin’ tell you the last time I’ve seen this movie. I’m gonna be real honest with you, I never really watched it that much as a kid because the flying monkeys scared the shit outta me.” 
“Seriously? They’re not even that scary. But we can fast forward through the monkey parts, if you need to, ya big bab-HEY!” You shrieked as Javi suddenly turned you around in his grasp so you were chest to chest before scooping you up and plopping you down so you were sitting on the counter. He placed his hands outside your hips, engulfing your body and making you squirm and laugh as he peppered ticklish kisses across your neck and face, trying your best to swat back at him. “Javi stop! You know that tickles!” You squealed, finally grabbing his arms, wrestling with him until he had given up, pressing a sweet, tender kiss on your lips. 
“Oh yeah? Who’s the big baby now?” He smirked, running his hands along your thighs as your legs dangled over the edge of the counter. 
“Still you, because I’m not irrationally afraid of poorly made monkey costumes.” You pointed your finger at him, prodding at his chest. 
“They’re fucking terrifying, Osita. You’re the worst, you know that?” 
“Oh really? You still gonna tell me I’m the worst when I take these apple pies out of the oven?” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest as you nodded over to the stove. 
“Fuck, I knew it smelled good in here. Does that mean I get to-” 
“Don’t you dare even think about trying to sneak a piece of these pies before tomorrow, Javier Jesús Peña! These are for Thanksgiving, and even though there’s only the 3 of us, I still made two because I know if I put a pie down in front of you, you could probably eat the whole thing by yourself, and I am not making another pie after the disaster in this tiny kitchen that I just cleaned up.” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, trying to give him your best stern face, the two of you snickering at each other as you tried to scold him. 
“Fine, fine. No pies.” Javi laughed, holding up his hands in defense. “Not even just a little-” 
“Javi! No!” You shook your head, slapping his arm as he looked back over at the oven before looking back at you, a sly smirk spreading across his face. Grabbing at the meat of your thighs, he slotted himself in the empty space of your legs, spread open as you sat on the counter. His hands quickly slid up towards your waist, creeping under the hem of his sweatshirt you were wearing as he caged his chest against yours, nipping at your neck, his words hot and heavy on your skin. “Javi….” You moaned, tipping your head back as his kisses traveled down to your collarbone and hands tugged at the waistband of your sweatpants. “Javi, I’m gonna burn these pies, I don’t wanna have to make them again or explain to your dad that they’re burnt to a crisp because his son cannot keep his hands off me for more than 30 seconds. They only need to be in the oven for like-” 
“10 more minutes?” Javi quickly cut you off, now beginning to slide your sweatpants down your thighs, firmly pressing his hands along the soft flesh of your now bare legs. “Oh, don’t worry, I saw the timer, Hermosa. Baby, you know I can take care of you in 10 minutes, now I just wanna see how many times I can get you off before the pies are done.” 
“Seriously? You’re timing yourself? Are we placing bets on this too, while we’re at it? You are absolutely ridiculous, Javi, I swear.” You tried your best to roll your eyes, but as his hands crept down, palming the already wet patch that had been growing in your underwear, it was hard to pretend you were even annoyed in the slightest. Your breath hitched as he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, shuffling them down your legs as he placed his hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing them open to reveal the slick of your arousal that had already been pooling between them. Gently, he ran his fingers through your folds, barley grazing over your clit before dropping to his knees, coming face to face with your dripping heat. 
“3.” He said, carefully kissing along the inside of your legs, making his way closer and closer to your entrance. 
“3 what?” You replied, trying your best to stay focused on anything Javi was saying as his nose bumped against your throbbing bundle of nerves, practically feeling his smirk against your pussy as he darted his eyes up at you. 
“3 times. I bet I can make you cum 3 times before the timer goes off.” 
“You’re a fucking menace, Javier Peña, you know that right?” You sighed, gripping your hands against the edge of the counter, feeling your cunt clench, desperate for him to ease the ache between your legs. 
“Only for you, Hermosa. Solo para ti (Only for you).” Javi looked up at you, shooting you a quick wink before licking a broad stroke against your clit, making you gasp and your jaw go slack as you moaned breathlessly. That was all it took before he dove in, a man on a mission to make you cum as many times as he could in the few minutes he had. Your legs draped over his broad shoulders, his fingertips squeezing into the flesh of your hips as his pace became rapid and intense, licking and sucking at your clit in a way that had you writing on the counter, tugging at the dark curls of his hair for any sort of relief. 
“Javi, holy shit baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only making him press his tongue firmer against you. Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. You could feel the tingling beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, pulling his head closer to your soaking core, desperate for more. “Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you, your body trembling at Javi’s relentless pace as he still worked at you as you came. 
“Fuck, you taste so sweet, hermosa. Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.” Javi smirked, his mustache covered in your slick as he peeked over at the timer counting down on the stove. “7 minutes? Plenty of fucking time, Osita. You want my fingers, pretty girl?” He mewled, satisfied as he stared at the soaking wet mess between your legs, knowing you were still needy for more. 
“Mhmmmmhhh. Please, Javi, please.” You whimpered, your hand still buried deep in the brown locks of his hair, pleading for relief as your cunt clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled. 
“Such a good girl, asking so nicely.” He cooed, slowly pushing his two fingers into your already drenched core, making you gasp at the thickness now filling you, bumping against the soft spongy spot that made your toes curl and your jaw go slack. Already so worked up from just moments ago, as soon as Javi’s mouth was back on your throbbing clit, you could feel yourself beginning to clench around Javi’s hand, arousal pooling in your belly. His fingers slid easily in and out of your heat, his hand and mouth working at a persistent pace as he felt you squirm under him, knowing how close you were again. 
Your second orgasm hit you even harder than your first, moaning and panting incoherently as you tensed around the thickness of Javi’s digits, soaking his hand as he feverishly lapped up your slick, only removing his mouth after he knew you had come down from your second high to smirk up at you with a devilishly smug grin. He ran his free hand along your leg, grasping at your thigh as his other hand still slowly pulsed inside you, his fingers curling ever so slightly to the spot he knew would get him to his goal. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t even blame him for self-satisfied smile- Javi knew just as well as you that he knew how to work you in all the right ways to get you exactly where he wanted you. “Gimme one more just like this, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna watch that pretty face when you cum. ” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm. 
Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that your grasp on the counter had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s hand as awed at your blissed out state. 
“That’s it, baby. Let it all go, hermosa. Fuck, you look so good like this. Can’t believe you’re all fuckin’ mine. God, you’re so perfect.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean before rising up off his knees, taking his time to plant soft kisses along your body before grabbing your face, pressing his lips against yours the taste of you still tangy on his tongue. It wasn’t long until the beep of the oven timer was ringing through your kitchen, making Javi’s smug smirk only grow wider. “See? Told you I could do it 3 times before the pies were done.” 
“Jesus Christ…” You swatted at him, trying to catch your breath, the two of you laughing and shaking your heads as he helped you slide down off the counter before pulling your sweatpants back up over your legs, walking over towards the oven. “If you think this was gonna change my mind about you getting a piece tonight, it’s not.” You raised an eyebrow at him, throwing on an oven mitt before reaching in to pull out the pies, sweet and steaming as they rested on the counter. 
“Not even just a-” 
You turned around, trying your best to give him your most stern look without bursting into giggles, making Javi hold his hands up in defense, stopping mid-sentence. “You can have all the pie you want tomorrow, you hungry, horny menace.” You laughed, taking off your oven mitt and pointing it at him. 
Tomorrow. 
He couldn’t help but smile knowing that in less than 24 hours, tomorrow meant a lot more than just getting to eat the apple pies that had just come out of the oven. 
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Javi felt like a little boy on Christmas morning. Sleep was an incredibly inaccurate way to describe the anticipated tossing and turning he had done all night, his heart racing excitedly as he counted down the moments until he finally got down on one knee, and asked you to be his wife. It didn’t take much to get Javi out of bed bright and early, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he planted a soft kiss on the tangled and sleepy waves of your hair as you laid face down, snoring into your pillow, before sneaking out of your room into the kitchen. 
As you shifted over in bed, reaching for Javi to pull him closer to you in your half asleep state, you scrunched your face, blinking as you looked over to find an empty space beside you, the sheets of Javi’s of the mattress left in a tangled pile in his place. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you looked up to see the sunrise creeping through the cracks of your curtains, painting your bedroom walls in golden rays and silhouettes, blowing in the soft breeze from your cracked window. Reaching your arms over your head and letting out a big yawn, you crawled out of bed, shuffling across the carpet of your bedroom to your dresser to pull out another one of Javi’s sweatshirts before opening your door to hear the sounds of sizzling and popping coming from the kitchen. Creeping down the hallway, you peeked your head around the corner to see Javi and his messy, sleepy curls cooking away, working on what seemed to be like bacon and eggs, sitting next to an already completed giant pile of pancakes. 
“Are we having breakfast for 12 this morning?” You giggled, your voice still soft and sleepy as you smiled at Javi, walking into the kitchen and hugging him from behind, snaking your arms around his waist, resting your body against his broad back. “You didn’t have to do all this, Jav. I didn’t know you were getting up to make breakfast this morning, I could have gotten up and helped.” 
Javi set down his spatula, turning to face you, gently cupping your jaw as placed a soft kiss on your lips and forehead, squeezing you in a tight hug. “Good morning to you too, Hermosa. I know you didn’t. I wanted to surprise you and bring you breakfast in bed, but I guess I should have known better that you would be up before then.” He chuckled as you hoisted yourself up onto the counter, sitting next to the stack of pancakes you now noticed were separated by both blueberries and chocolate chips. He reached beside him, handing you the mug of coffee he had poured, gladly taking a generous sip before watching him finish up the rest of the scrambled eggs on the stove. 
“Surprise Thanksgiving breakfast?” You laughed, tilting your head in confusion as you looked over at Javi before reaching down to grab a chocolate chip pancake, taking a bite and letting out a satisfied sigh. 
Javi tried his best to keep calm and nonchalant, giving a little shrug as he scraped the eggs off the pan onto one of the empty plates, handing it over to you. “It’s uh- it’s your first Thanksgiving away from home, I don’t know- I know you love breakfast, I just wanted to make it special for you, I guess.”   
“Well-” You paused, taking a big fork full of eggs, nodding your head as you chewed, “Oh my god these are good-” finally swallowing before finishing the rest of your thought, “You’re very sweet, and I am very, very thankful for you, and your delicious breakfast.” You grinned, leaning over to give Javi a kiss on the cheek on his scratchy, morning stubble as he dropped the rest of the eggs on to his plate, setting it to the side as he hooked his arms under your thighs, making you squeal as you draped his arms around your neck and locked your legs around the small of your back as he spun you around, peppering ticklish kisses against your soft skin. 
“I’m so thankful for you too, Osita. Fuck, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that? I love you so goddamn much.” His sweet, brown eyes locked with yours as your hands ran through the soft curls of his hair before tracing along his cheek, your thumb rubbing soft circles along his jaw. 
“I love you too, Jav. Someone’s feeling sappy this morning.” You prodded, giving him one last quick peck before unwrapping your legs and setting your feet back on the ground, grabbing your plate and heading over to the couch to turn on the TV. Javi looked at the ground sheepishly, feeling the heat creep through his flushed face. 
You didn’t even know the fucking half of it. 
Javi had spent the rest of the morning trying his best to stay as even keeled as possible, but with how fast his heart had been beating since the moment he had gotten out of bed, he was surprised you hadn’t asked if he was having a heart attack as you pressed your head against his chest, cuddling up together on the couch to watch the rest of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade after finishing your huge breakfast. 
“Awh yes!” You grasped at Javi’s shirt, shaking the fist fulls of fabric in excitement as you stared at Santa’s sleigh now making its way across the TV screen. “Christmas time is finally here!” Javi shook his head, laughing to himself at the number of times you had already broughten up how excited you were for Christmas since the day November had started. “Are you gonna hate me if I start decorating and listening to Christmas music tomorrow?” You grimaced, twisting your head to look up at Javi. 
“Jesus Christ, you weren’t kidding, huh? You really wanna start setting out Christmas shit tomorrow?” 
“I will hold off until December 1st if I absolutely have to, but just know, each day that passes until then will kill me slowly.” 
“And I’m the ridiculous one?” 
“Pendejo.” You grumbled, giving him a nudge. 
“You love me. That’s fine baby, I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.” 
“Honestly, it’s only because I actually really do also like Thanksgiving, it deserves it's time to shine, too. Oh, speaking of which, I wanna call my family just to say hi really quick before we start getting ready to leave, is that okay?” You asked, pushing yourself up off the couch. 
“Uh, yeah- yeah of course that’s fine, Hermosa.” He replied, seeming surprisingly flustered by your question. You obviously hadn’t seemed to notice, walking over to grab your phone off the receiver before punching in your house phone number, holding it up to your ear as the dial tone rang repeatedly. A confused look spread across your face as the ringing ended in your mom’s familiar voicemail, giving Javi a puzzled shrug as you left your message. 
“Hi everyone, it’s me! Just wanted to wish you a Happy Thanksgiving! I miss you guys! If you try and call and I don’t answer, we’re over at Javi’s dad’s- Javi says hi too. Okay, well if I don’t talk to you later, then tell David not to eat too much gravy so he doesn’t shit his pants again. Love you!” You pressed the red button, ending your call as you set the phone back down. “That’s so weird that no one answered, they should all be home right now.”   
“I’m sure they’re fine, baby. They’re probably just busy. I’m sure you’ll talk to them later.” He smiled, giving your outstretched hand a reassuring squeeze.  
“Yeah, you’re right. We should probably start getting ready, when did your dad want us over again?” 
“He said to take our time, he’ll have food ready whenever we get over there.” 
“Well I feel bad that he’s there waiting all by himself. I’m good to hop in the shower if you are?” You suggested, pulling him up to stand from the couch. 
“Don’t worry about me for the shower, I’ll clean up the rest of breakfast and you can start getting ready, okay?” Javi rubbed his hand along your arm, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. 
“Jav, you made me breakfast, the least I can do is help clean-” 
“Osita. I know you’d help me clean up. I want to, okay? I wanted to get up and make breakfast for you, I’m not gonna let you clean up my mess.” 
“Fine, Mr. Stubborn. Thank you. You sure I can’t-” 
“Go get your ass in the shower, hermosa.” Javi gestured towards the bathroom, giving your butt a quick smack before heading down the hallway into the bathroom. 
In all honesty, cleaning the dishes was the last thing Javi had on his mind as he was finally able to get you into the bathroom. Once he heard the water on and the shower curtain open, he snuck his way into the bedroom, digging through his sock drawer to pull out the giant sock ball with your ring buried inside it. Pulling the velvet case out of the fabric, Javi carefully opened the box, smiling at the glimmer of the piece of shiny jewelry, picturing how perfect it would look finally wrapped around your finger. He slipped the case into one of the inside pockets of his jacket, squeezing his hand around the fabric, as if to make sure this was actually happening. Quietly, he grabbed his cell phone from his nightstand, dialing up Chucho, anxiously chewing at the inside of his lip as he waited for his dad to answer. 
“Hola, hijo.” Chucho answered, his voice filled with excitement and glee. 
“Hey, Pops. She just started getting ready so I’m guessing we’ll be there in like, an hour and a half?” His dad could practically hear Javi’s nerves and anxiety now beginning to build as the realization that he was hours away from proposing was finally starting to hit him like a ton of bricks. 
“Perfect. Everything and everyone will be ready, don’t worry, Mijo.” Chucho chuckled, trying to ease his son’s tension. 
“Okay.” Javi’s response was short and unassuring as he ran his free hand through his dark curls before resting his hand on his hip. 
“Javier. Tiene planeada un día mas perfecto para ella. Así que respiremos profundamente, todo está yendo bien. A ella le encantaría. Casi tanto como elle te ama.” (Javier, you have planned the most perfect day for her. Take a deep breath, it will all be okay. She will love it. Almost as much as she loves you). Javi took a long inhale, his dad 's words comforting him as his exhale followed. 
“Thanks, Dad.” 
“Claro, hijo (Of course, son). We will see you and your futura esposa (future wife) soon.” 
“Te veré pronto. (I’ll see you soon) Bye.” 
Hearing the water from your shower turn off, Javi rushed back into the kitchen, speed washing every dish and pan to make sure it looked like he had made good on his promise to clean up after himself while you were getting ready in the bathroom. With the dishwasher full and running, Javi made his way down the hall to see you standing in front of the bathroom mirror, wrapped in your towel, and starting to put on your makeup. He couldn’t help but gawk at you- Javi watching you get ready had become a staple in your relationship very early on, the two of you talking as Javi rested his hip on the counter, or sat on the lid of the toilet seat, smiling to himself, in awe of every beautiful part of you. But there was something about the way that Javi was staring at you right now as you peeked your head out of the bathroom that made your heart flutter. It wasn’t the I’d fuck you right now against the bathroom counter look that had become just as much of a staple as Javi watching you get ready, it wasn’t even the sweet, flirty look he’d give you when he just wanted to let you know how cute you were. The way Javi looked at you as you stood there in your fluffy towel, makeup half done and hair wet and tangled from the shower was a look that put butterflies in your stomach. He looked at you like you were the only person in the world. That he didn’t care if anyone else existed beside you. That you were the only person he ever wanted to look at like this. 
“What’s that look for?” You blushed, setting down your mascara to stare back at him. 
“You’re just- Fuck. You’re so beautiful, Osita. Everything about you. I’m so lucky.” Javi’s words were soft and gentle, his sweet brown eyes making you melt as they soaked in every inch of you. 
“Does Thanksgiving always make you this sappy?” You giggled, biting down on your lip before turning back to the mirror. “Thanks, Jav. I hope you know I feel equally as lucky. Now go get your cute butt in the shower so we don’t have to make your dad wait any longer. I need to find the loosest fitting outfit I have so I can make room for when I eat my bodyweight in mashed potatoes.” 
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By the time Javi was finished getting ready, you were already out in the kitchen wrapping up the pies you had made last night to safely get to Chucho’s without any sneaky tampering from Javi. 
“Well, you look handsome.” You smirked, watching Javi walk down the hallway in one of his dark washed pairs of tight jeans, paired with a tan button up and black jacket overtop of it. Javi’s jaw just about dropped as he watched you make your way out from around the counter, showing off the cute, burnt orange dress you had put on over your cream colored turtleneck. 
“Me? Jesus Christ, look at you, Osita.” You giggled as you pressed up on your tiptoes, giving him a quick kiss as you draped your arms over his neck. 
“Oh shhhh. Thank you, Jav. You ready to leave?” You smiled up at him, Javi praying you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was racing as he caged his chest against yours, thinking about the last drive he was ever about to make with you before you went from girlfriend to fiancé. 
“I’m ready whenever you are.” 
“Can I trust you to carry the other pie on the way down to the car without eating any of it?” You laughed, rolling your eyes as you reached over the counter to hand him the tin foil covered dessert. 
“Yes, you can trust me. I think I left my phone in the bedroom, let me just go grab it really quick and then we can go, okay?” You nodded at him as he quickly made his way back to your room, cell phone already tucked away in his pants when he put on his jeans 15 minutes ago. He looked over his shoulder to check and make sure you hadn’t followed behind, pulling out the ring box one last time, taking a deep breath before giving it a little squeeze and stashing it back in his pocket. 
It was really fucking happening. 
As the two of you began your drive to what you assumed was Chucho’s, Javi turned up the volume of the CD he had picked out to play in the car, “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac now bumping through the speakers. He reached over the center console, intertwining your fingers with his as he grabbed your hand, smiling over at you as the melodic intro began. “This song always makes me think of the first night I ever stayed over at your apartment. All you had to eat was fuckin’ mac and cheese.”
“Oh my God, I remember that. I was so embarrassed because I had nothing else to eat and I didn’t want you to think I was a crazy person who only ate like a 10 year old. God, that feels like forever ago.” Running your free hand over your face, the two of you laughed over the melodic soundtrack playing in the background, the memory of that night making your heart grow warm. 
“I guess. Honestly, it still almost feels like it was yesterday. I just remember how fucking nervous I was the whole goddamn night.”
“With how many times we fucked that night, you really didn’t seem nervous.” You giggled, rubbing your thumb over the rough skin of his hand interlaced with yours. 
“I was. I was so nervous I was gonna fuck something up, because I knew I was already so fucking in love with you, and it scared the shit out of me. No one else has ever made me feel like you do. I knew from that day on I never wanted to live without you.” 
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I felt the exact same. We’ve come a long way since then, huh?” The two of you smiled at each other as you leaned your head over to rest on Javi’s shoulder, Javi pressing a tender kiss in your hair, the sweet and familiar smell of your shampoo flooding him with comfort, easing his nerves just a touch as changed course from his usual route to the ranch, making you perk back up in confusion. 
“Since when do we go this way to your dad’s house? We’ve never gone this way before.” You questioned, a puzzled look spreading across your face. 
“I know. Just trust me, okay?” He grinned softly, giving you a reassuring squeeze of his hand. 
“Okay?” You replied wearily, giving Javi a suspicious look. “What the hell are you up to?” 
“Osita. Just trust me.” 
“Fine, I should know better than to ask questions at this point, I know you’re not gonna tell me anything. Do I get a hint?” 
“No, you dork.” 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled, resting your head back against Javi as he drove the two of you down an unfamiliar path, the sounds of Fleetwood Mac filling the comfortable silence between you. 
It wasn’t long until the road you were on started to become vaguely familiar, peeking out the window of the truck to try and piece together why your surroundings felt so recognizable. It wasn’t until you saw the white “For Sale” sign, now covered with “SOLD” in bright, red letters, peeking out of the tree lined driveway that you began to put two and two together.  
“Wait… Isn’t this the place that we went to go see for Steve’s friend a couple weeks ago?” You asked, looking back at Javi as he slowed the speed of the truck, beginning to turn into the driveway. 
“Mmmhhmm.” Javi nodded, his fingers drumming nervously on the steering wheel. 
“It- It looks like he must have bought it, so why are we back here? Are you sure he’s fine with us just like, showing up here?” You were absolutely stumped as to why you were back at the plot of land you had gone to check out for Steve’s friend after his Halloween party until you rounded the corner along the “For Sale” sign. 
“Yeah, I think he’ll be okay with it.” Javi smirked, gazing over at you. 
Then all of a sudden, it hit you like a ton of bricks. 
The conversation you had overheard between Javi and Steve at the Halloween party. 
The reason why he had asked you to come look at this place for Steve’s buddy. 
Why “SOLD” was plastered over the for sale sign.  
You could physically feel your jaw drop, hanging open so wide, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had dropped through the floor of Javi’s truck. Your eyes grew as you looked over at Javi, your head darting back between him and the trees lining the driveway, practically frozen in shock. 
“Javi…” You whispered, your breath shaky and trembling from the butterflies building in your stomach. His silence had never felt more comforting, simply smiling back at you before putting the truck into park, hopping out to make his way to the driver’s side, opening the door for you. You quickly wiped your palms against your dress, feeling how sweaty they had become from the nerves building inside you before sliding out of your seat, walking hand in hand with Javi the last few feet down the driveway before the trees opened to the open, grassy field hidden behind it, just as charming and beautiful as you remembered it. 
You had been so focused on the view in front of you, you hadn’t even noticed Javi tugging your hand over towards the old oak tree on the side of the property, wrapped in twinkling string lights and pictures of the two of you. Under the tree, a big plaid blanket laid spread across the grass, covered in piles of cute pillows and surrounded by a few candles and vases of beautiful orange and red flowers resting on the ground. You felt your heart race, knots of anticipation building in your stomach as you quickly began to realize the “SOLD” sign wasn’t the only thing Javi was trying to surprise you with. 
Holy fuck, he was going to propose to you, too. 
You used every last brain cell in you to try and form anything close to a coherent sentence, but the best you could get out as the two of you reached the blanket under the towering tree was a jumbled mess of tangled words, spilling from your mouth. “Javi- What, are- Baby, is this- Javi, I, I- Holy shit.” Your hands trembled as you reached out for one of the pictures hung around the base of the tree- One Chucho must have taken one of the days the two of you were out on the ranch, Javi carrying you on his back as the two of you laughed at each other with stupid grins on your face. You could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest, tears already beginning to well behind your eyes as you looked up at Javi.
“That one’s always been one of my favorites. You look so happy, Osita.” He whispered, rubbing his hand along your back as the two of you stared at the photo, Javi pressing a soft kiss against your head, letting out a shaky exhale as he pulled away. Grabbing your hand, he turned towards you, the Adam’s apple of his throat bobbing as he swallowed, trying to compose himself before he spoke again. “All I ever want is for you to be happy, baby.” 
You let out an audible gasp, covering your trembling hands over your mouth as you watched Javi lower himself down onto one knee, tears welling behind those sweet brown eyes as he smiled up at you with that familiar gaze you realized you would now never have to live without. 
“Osita. Baby, you make me the happiest man in the world. I don’t think I ever truly understood what it felt like to be this happy until I met you. I couldn’t be more thankful that your clumsy ass bumped into me all those months ago, because there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since I’ve met you that my life hasn’t been better, because you’re in it. You’re everything I never knew I needed, and everything I never thought I deserved. You are the most beautiful, kind, and loving woman I’ve ever met. You’re also the most stubborn, headstrong, independent woman I have ever met, and I love every perfect part of you that makes you the person I feel head over heels in love with.  From the moment I met you, I couldn’t imagine how I could spend the rest of my life without you. I wanna spend forever with you, Osita. I wanna give you the world. I wanna start our lives together here. I wanna build you a house, I wanna fill it with as many kids as you want, I wanna spend the rest of my life here with you, because if I have that, that’s all I’ll ever need. You’re all I’ll ever need.” 
Javi’s hands shook as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the little velvet box that had been hidden inside, carefully opening the case to reveal the beautiful, oval cut diamond, nestled between little clusters of smaller stones, resting on top of a dainty and simple gold band. You could feel the tears streaming down your grinning cheeks, still trying to comprehend what was happening as Javi held the ring up towards you. 
“Osita, I love you so much. Te amo más que a mi vida (I love you more than life itself). Baby, will you marry me?” 
Javi could barely finish the question before you were jumping on him, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could, sobbing into his shoulder as the two of you fell onto the blanket, bodies tangled in each other as you laid on top of him. 
“Of course. Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot. I love you so much.” 
You laughed through your tears, grabbing his face, your lips meeting in an electric moment that made everything else around you stand still. You could feel each other’s grins against your parted mouths, laying back down on top of Javi squeezing him as tightly as you could to try and ground yourself in the reality of what had just happened. 
“I think I’m supposed to put the ring on your finger now, you dork.” He laughed, pushing you both to sit up as he grabbed the case that had landed next to him on the blanket, cautiously taking out the ring, his thumb rubbing over the knuckles of your outstretched hand as he slipped onto your finger, the both of you staring at it in awe. 
“Javi… Baby, holy shit this is beautiful. How did you- When did you-” 
“It was my mom’s.” He grinned, biting down on his lip as he watched the ring sparkle on your finger before looking back up at you, the tears now building in both your eyes again. “When uh- In the end, before she passed, she always told me if I ever found someone, I could have it. I kinda wrote it off because I didn’t think I’d ever find anyone, let alone find you. I know I never really asked you what you wanted or liked, but-” 
“Javi. It’s perfect.” You cupped his cheeks, your face beaming with joy as you shook your head still in absolute shock. As if the ring on your finger wasn’t enough, you looked back out at the green grass swaying in the gentle breeze, reminded of the fact that not only did Javi want you to be his wife, but this man had just told you he was about to build you a fucking house. “You really bought this? We’re gonna build a house here? This is all ours?” 
“It’s all ours, Hermosa. Whatever you want, baby, I’ll build it for you.” Javi's face lit up watching the excitement radiating from you, your eyes darting back between the ring on your finger and the beautiful plot of land in front of you, trying to take everything in. 
“You’re being serious? Like actually? We’re really gonna build a house here?” You asked, still trying to process. 
“Yes, seriously.” Javi nodded, smiling at you as you shook your head in disbelief, burying your head in your hands and squealing before shooting up, running over to the middle of the empty plot grass, spinning in a circle, imagining the possibilities of what was to come. 
“So we can have a big kitchen? And huge windows so it’s always sunny inside? And a porch on the back deck that we can watch the sunset? And a-” 
“Baby, we can have whatever you want.” Javi chuckled to himself as you stood there for a moment, taking it all in before running back over to him, once again, tackling him to the ground pressing frantic kisses against his lips. 
“We can finally have a bedroom big enough for a king size bed? Where we can hang out all day? And watch the sunrise? And have plenty of space to fuck my husband?” You smirked, feeling Javi’s cock twitch against the denim of his jeans as you laid on top of him. Javi let out a low groan as you hand snaked between your bodies, reaching down to palm at the bulge straining against his zipper. 
“Say it again.” He rasped, planting hot, wet kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin. 
“My husband. You’re gonna be my husband, Javier Peña.” 
Husband. 
Oh fuck, did that do something to do him hearing you say that out loud.  
Grabbing you by the hips, he quickly flipped you over, your back resting on the blanket as he hovered over you, trailing kisses down every inch of your body before his palms pushed up the hem of your dress, grasping at the meat of your thighs. He cupped his hand against your core, already feeling the wetness that had begun to pool in your underwear, carefully hooking his fingers under the waistband before sliding it down your legs. 
“Again, baby. Say it again.” He mewled, running his fingers between your folds, collecting your arousal as his thumb circled around your clit, making your breath shake as you spoke again. 
“Husband. Fuck, Javi, I’m gonna be your wife.” 
Now that, that one really did something to him. 
“You’re gonna be my fucking wife.” Javi’s tongue darted between his parted lips as he sunk his two fingers deep inside you, making you moan beneath him. “I’m gonna be your fucking husband. I’m gonna take such good care of you, Osita. I’ll give you everything. Anything you want, Hermosa, I’ll give it to you.” His touch had you writing, bucking your hips against his hand as he thumbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers curved ever so slightly, pressing against the soft spongy spot that made your pussy throb even more intensely than it already was. Javi’s forehead rested against yours, your noses brushing against each other as your words escaped from the soft, smirking curve of your lips, thinking about Javi’s promise. 
“Anything? You’re gonna give me a house, your last name…you gonna give me a baby, too? Make you a husband and a daddy?” 
Holy shit, you were really trying to fucking kill him. 
Just the thought of that alone was enough for Javi to let out an audible groan, biting down on his tongue and taking a deep breath to compose himself so that he didn’t bust right that second. “Jesus Christ…” he growled, quickly removing his fingers, already soaked with your juices, making you whimper at the rapid loss.  Frantically, he undid his belt buckle, sliding his pants and boxers down his thighs to reveal his already hard cock, his tip red and leaking with precum. That was all it took before Javi was stroking himself, lining his tip up with your entrance and flushing his hips against yours, feeling his length bottom all the way out against your cervix, making you whine at his fullness inside you. You’d be lying if you said the idea alone hadn’t made you so wet and worked up, that even though Javi had barely spent any time working you open with his fingers, he still slid into your heat effortlessly.  
“Fuckkkk meeee, Osita.” He grunted, already beginning to press into you at a rushed, sloppy pace. You had come to find out that while Javi had impressive stamina, there were times that the little things you said or did to him made him absolutely lose his mind. It would leave him so worked up and on edge, that his endurance flew out the window, barely standing a chance at lasting more than a few quick minutes buried inside you. Given your comment, the rate he was snapping his hips into yours, and that all too familiar lustful look in his eyes, you already knew he was a goner. 
You grasped at fist fulls of his jacket, digging your fingers into the fabric as Javi punched deep into the spot that made your vision go white, feeling your cunt already beginning to clench around his cock as he rubbed his fingers frantically along your clit. “You want me to give you a baby, Osita? Shit- I’ll give you as many babies as you want. We’ll fill up every fucking room in this house. I’d fuck a baby into right now if I could. You’d like that, huh?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his strokes rapid and punishing as he punched against your g-spot, watching you whimper beneath him. 
“Fuckkk, yes, Javi- ahhhh- Jesus, I want it so bad. I want everything with you, baby.” 
“Fuck, Hermosa, I’m close- I can feel how close you are too, baby. So tight and wet. Give it to me, Osita. Want you to cum all over my cock before I fuck you full of me.” With a few more strokes, you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine as your orgasm ripped through you, euphoria flooding through your veins across your body. Your moans and cries as you tightened around Javi’s dick had him moments away from coming undone just as fast as you had, his rambling becoming just as fast and boundless as his last few pumps inside of you. 
“Fuck, you’re gonna be such a good wife- oh shit- such a good mom. I can’t until we can have a family to raise here- I can’t believe-ahhhh- I can’t believe your mine forever. Can’t believe I get to marry you, fuck a baby into you, holy shit, fuck, fuck- ohhhhhhh-” With one final thrust, Javi buried himself deep in your hilt, milking himself of every last drop of his spend, slumping into you, your chests rising and falling in unison as you both came down from your blissed out highs before pulling out from the wet mess between you. 
“Well fuck me…” You giggled, running your hand over your face, smirking back up at Javi. 
“Jesus Fucking Christ, Osita. I’d apologizing for fucking busting so quick, but goddamn, if you keep saying shit like that, I swear…” The two of you laughed, Javi picking up the hand covering your face, kissing the ring now wrapped around your finger before leaning down to meet your lips in a long, tender kiss. 
“You liked that, huh?” You smirked up at him, biting down on your lip as he nipped at your ear, his voice low and raspy as his hot breath pressed against your skin. 
“Baby, if you keep talking like that, I swear to God, I’m gonna find a way to beat your birth control and fuck a baby into you right this second.” 
“I meannnnn, I wouldn’t be mad about it. You better stop saying shit before I run home and toss my birth control pills out the window, never to be seen again. No, no, this is bad, Jav! We aren’t even married yet, Jesus! We cannot be talking like this until we at least make that happen and we build this house. One step at a time.” You sighed, shaking your head and laughing to yourself as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before swiping his thumb along your bottom lip. 
“One step at a time.” He repeated, softly gazing into your eyes, his sweet chocolate brown stare making you melt beneath him. “I love you so fucking much, Osita.”  
“Te amo hasta la luna y de regreso, Javier Peña.” (I love you to the moon and back). I still can’t believe you did all this for me. I would have been happy with anything, but a proposal and surprise house combination is pretty fuckin’ tough to beat. Thank you, Javi. For everything. I am the luckiest woman in the world. I honestly still can’t believe this, oh my God.” 
“There’s still one more surprise.” Javi grinned, his comment making you sit up in shock. 
“Javi. Seriously? How could there possibly be any more surprises? Did you get me a fucking unicorn too?” 
“Last one, I promise.” 
Javi grunted as he pushed himself up to stand, extending his arm down to you to help pull you towards him. You couldn't help but wrap your arms around him, squeezing your body against the warm familiar space of his, staring out into the blank canvas that would be yours and Javi’s home. The two of you stood there for a moment in silence, smiles stretched wide across your faces as you held each other in the crisp November breeze, feeling like the only two people in the world to exist. No one but you and him. You had Javier Peña forever, and you were never letting go. 
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As you had finally come to grips with the reality of what had just happened on the actual car ride over to the Peña ranch, you could feel your head spinning with questions as to how in the world Javi had managed to pull all of this off. 
“Wait okay, so when did you get the ring? You hid it really well, I had no idea you even had it.  Did you set all of this stuff up? When the hell did you go buy this beautiful piece of land we’re about to build a house on? How long have you been-” 
“Jesus Hermosa, one at a time.” Javi chuckled, resting his hand on your thigh to try and slow your interrogation as he drove.
“Sorry, sorry. I still can’t believe you did all of this, I wanna know all the details now! Okay, the ring- I’ll start there. God, it’s so pretty.” You beamed, holding out your hand in front of you to stare at it. 
“I got it from my dad after my birthday party. Believe me, I would have done this sooner, but all the stuff with buying the fucking land was a pain in my ass, and took way longer than I thought it was going to. I put the offer in right before we left for Chicago, and didn’t close on everything until like 2 weeks ago. ” Javi sighed, shaking his head. 
“Yeah Jav, I’m SO upset you didn’t get this beautiful piece of land to build our dream house on and propose to me a few weeks sooner, I’m calling it all off.” You joked, your voice oozing with sarcasm as Javi rolled his eyes at you. 
“Pendejo.” 
“Hey, you’re the one who asked to marry me. When did you decide building a house was gonna be a part of this whole plan?” You asked, smirking over at Javi, giving him a little nudge across the center console. 
“For a while now. I looked at a few houses after I got the ring, but nothing felt right. My dad built our house on the ranch when he and my mom got married, and after talking with him, it was the only thing that made sense. I want our house to be everything we want. Everything you want.” He smiled, tracing his thumb in soft circles along your leg. 
“Javi, we could live in a cardboard box together and I would be happy. I don’t care as long as I’m with you. Although, I’m not mad about it.” The both of you laughed to yourselves, stupid grins on your faces. “So like, are you gonna build it? Not that I don’t trust your construction skills, but that seems like a lotta house for one man.” 
“Jesus, no. My cousin Danny’s a contractor- I talked to him when I was thinking about doing all of this. He helped me find the place and already agreed to start building whenever we’re ready. I told him obviously we would help whenever we could, and my dad has already offered to help too- he’s about to be over there every day, because he’s convinced the sooner the house is built, the sooner he gets his grandkids.” 
“I think he may be the most excited out of anyone.” You giggled, shaking your head. “So he obviously knows about all this? Did he help with setting everything up?” 
“Yeah, he had some help too.” Javi smiled as the two of you pulled into the driveway of the Peña ranch, the sun slowly beginning to set behind the horizon, the golden rays spilling in through the windows of his truck as he shifted it into park. He quickly got out, hopping around to your side of the car to open your door, taking your hand and helping you down after planting a soft kiss on your lips. 
The two of you walked hand in hand up to the house, giddy with excitement to finally talk with Chucho about everything Javi had surprised you with today, almost forgetting that the 3 of you still had Thanksgiving to celebrate on top of everything else. “Oh shit, the pies!” You exclaimed, getting ready to run back to the truck before Javi grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. 
“I’ll go get them in a minute, let’s go inside, okay?” He insisted, dragging you back towards the house. 
“Javi, it’ll take like 2 seconds, I-”
“Ostia. Just go inside, okay?” 
“Fine, fine!” You laughed, reaching your hand down to twist open the doorknob, looking up at Javi’s boyish grin. “I just don’t understand why-” 
“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, THEY’RE HERE! AHHHHHHH HONEY!” 
You stood there for a moment, wondering who the hell was screeching at the top of their lungs, ambushing you in a hug that felt more like a death grip than anything else. It took a second before you processed the all too familiar voice and arms wrapped around your body, making your heart race and tears begin to fall down your face. 
“Wait, wha- Wait Mom?! What are you-”  
“Oh sweetheart, oh my God! BOYS! GET YOUR ASSES OUT HERE! COME CONGRATULATE YOUR SISTER.” Your Mom shouted over your shoulder, still squeezing you in her arms, shaking you frantically. “JAVI, HONEY, AH WE ARE SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” Your mom shrieked, pulling Javi in for just as tight of a hug as the one you had just gotten a few seconds earlier before turning back to you, squeezing you again. 
“Wait, everyone- Mom, what the fuck? What are you- wait, what are you all doing here?” Finally beginning to come to, you pulled away from your mom to see not only Chucho, but your dad, brothers, and nieces all smiling back at your awestruck face. 
“Language honey, Jesus, just because you’re getting married doesn’t mean you get to swear at your mom.” She swatted at you, rolling her eyes. 
You took another step back as your eyes darted between Javi and your family, your jaw hanging open in absolute shock. “But when did you- how did- Wait, what is happening?” You ran your hands through your hair, head swiveling back and forth, looking for someone to explain how the hell your family had ended up here, at the Peña Ranch in Laredo, Texas. 
Shuffling up behind your mom, your dad greeted you, pulling you in for a quick hug and little noogie on your arm before doing the same to Javi, standing between the two of you as he spoke. “Once this kid knew when he was gonna propose, he wanted to find a way for us to be there. He knew how much you didn’t wanna miss Thanksgiving, which I don’t fucking understand, I thought you were gettin’ a get outta jail free card from these idiots,” He gestured over at Charlie and David, shrugging in agreement before turning back to you, “Javi asked if we wanted to come down here for Thanksgiving so we could celebrate it and spend it with you. You found a good one, kiddo.”  
“Congrats, asshat. If there’s hope for you, then there’s hope for us all, isn’t there?” David snickered, giving you a playful punch before patting you on the back for a hug. 
“To say there’s hope for you is generous.” You smirked at David, elbowing him back as Olivia squealed, running up to you with her arms outstretched, her patience running out as she waited for the grownups to finish talking. 
“AUNTIE BEAR!” 
“Cutie patootie!” You shrieked back, picking her up and spinning her around. 
“Auntie Bear, did Mr. Javi do the surprise? Did you know that Mr. Chucho has cows?! And horses!? I got to go pet one and Brianna did too, but she was scared and cried, but I didn’t ‘cause I’m really brave!” Olivia beamed, giggling as you gave her one last twirl as you set her back down. 
“You got to go see the animals? Aren’t they so cute? Yes, Mr. Javi did the surprise, it was a really good one.” You smiled back at Javi, tears welling in your eyes, wondering how your heart could feel any fuller. 
“This niñita y su hermana (little girl and her sister) took very good care of the animals this afternoon. Gracias, peque (thanks, little one).” Chucho grinned, reaching down to give Olivia a gentle high five as she bounced in excitement before looking back up at you. “Oh mija. I am so happy for you both. Your family is a hoot, I will tell you that. I see where you get your spunk from.” All of you laughed as you wrapped your arms around Chucho.
“Mr. Peña, that’s a very nice way of calling us the biggest bunch of annoying idiots you’ve ever met, so thank you.” Charlie remarked, making everyone laugh equally as hard as he leaned against you, holding your other niece, Brianna as he ruffled your hair. “I’m so happy for you, Cubby. Natalie says she wishes she could be here, but with the baby, she couldn’t make it out.” 
“I’d ask if she was mad, but considering you got these two little monsters and yourself out of her hair, I’m guessing she’s kind of relieved. Tell her we’re excited to meet baby Lucas at Christmas. Thank you, Charlie.” 
Now that you had finally said hello to everyone, you turned back around to look at Javi, the look on his face only slightly smug as he winked at you, shaking your head back at him in disbelief. “You are absolutely insane, you know that?” You tried to laugh through your tears, caging your chest against Javi’s as you hugged him, wondering how in the world you had ended up so goddamn lucky. “Thank you, Javi. This is- I can’t- I don’t even know what to say. I love you so much.” Javi reached down, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face as he cupped his hand around your jaw, smiling out at your family before back down at you. 
“I told you, Osita. You deserve everything. I’m glad I get to spend forever trying to give it to you. I love you too.” He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips, quickly interrupted by the sounds of Olivia’s disgust at the two of you. 
“Ew, that’s really gross. Auntie Bear, do you have to kiss him now because you’re getting married? Maybe just do that when I’m not here.” She grimaced, covering her eyes and sticking out her tongue. Your family burst out in laughter, only to be interrupted once again by your mom’s excited screams. 
“MARRIED! Honey, you’re getting MARRIED!” 
“Jesus, Pam! I’m right here! You’re gonna blow out my fuckin’ ear drum!” Your dad winced, covering the sides of his head with his hands. 
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re getting married.” You replied to your mom, without breaking your stare up at Javi, your cheeks warm and full from the grins between them. 
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The rest of the night was spent full of joy and laughter as all of you gathered in the Peña’s kitchen for Chucho’s Thanksgiving feast, telling your family all about the surprises of your day, listening to them explain their antics of getting from Chicago to Laredo, how they had spent the day with Chucho at the ranch after helping set up for the proposal, and stories of Thanksgivings past, and the sweet memories of the family you’d wished could have been here to celebrate. The hours passed by like seconds as you ate more than your fair share of food, (excluding the pie you had made, considering Javi and your brothers practically inhaled it from the moment it was set out on the table), and laughing harder than ever as your family taught Javi and Chucho how to play “Chaos Cutlery”- your family’s version of the game “Spoons”, which wasn’t really that much different besides the element of danger involved with your competitive-ass siblings.
 You truly didn’t think that your heart could get any fuller as you looked around to see all of the people you loved more than anyone in the world all gathered in once place, celebrating the happiest day you had ever had with the man you were going to get to call yours for the rest of your life. As the hours of the night grew later and later, you found yourself fighting off the sleep from your amazing, but exhausting day, not wanting the dream that had been today to come to an end. It wasn’t until Javi noticed you softly snoring against his shoulder as you were sitting on the couch, realizing the only ones left awake were him and your brothers, deep in an argument about who would win in a fight between 100,000 chickens and 10 dinosaurs, that he realized that it was probably time to get you home. 
“Hermosa.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Baby, let’s get you home, okay?” 
“I’m awake. I don’t want today to be done.” You grumbled, half-asleep, eyes still closed shut as you curled into Javi’s lap. 
“Osita, it’s 1 in the morning, everyone else is asleep too. Your family’s here all weekend, baby, I promise we’ll get to spend lots of time with them, we gotta get you home before I fall asleep, too. C’mon.” He chuckled to himself, watching you scrunch your face, trying to wake yourself up as he helped to pull you off the couch. Javi tried his best to say goodbye to his dad to let him know you were leaving, even though he had already been sound asleep for the past hour in his chair with Olivia and Brianna on either side of him, the trio up well past their usual bedtime. Javi's heart fluttered at the sight, watching the fabric of your families lives intertwining to become one, fitting perfectly together. After you and your family said your half coherent goodbyes for the night, Javi helped hoist you up into the truck before the two of you headed back to the apartment. 
Curling over the center console to rest your head against Javi’s shoulder, a sleepy smile spread across your face tangling your hand in his as he traced gentle circles with his thumb along your skin. 
“Javi…” You mumbled, your eyelids heavy with sleep as your blinks grew slower and slower. 
“Yeah, baby?” 
“This was the best day I think I’ve ever had in my entire life. No, I know it was the best day I’ve ever had in my entire life. I can’t believe you wanna marry me. And build me a house. And that you made sure my family was here to celebrate. I love you so much, Javi. Thank you for everything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” 
“Today’s the best day I’ve ever had too, Osita.” He grinned, pulling your intertwined hand with his up to his mouth, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you too, Hermosa. I can’t imagine it without you. Te amo con todo mi corazón (I love you with all of my heart).” Javi let out a content sigh, pausing for a moment, waiting for response. It didn’t take him long to realize that you were already back asleep, the sweet sounds of your snores against his sleeve making him laugh to himself. “Dulces sueños, mi amor. Soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo. (Sweet dreams, my love. I am the luckiest man in the whole world.) 
As Javi spent the rest of the drive with you propped up against his arm, he couldn’t help but smile at the beautiful gold band wrapped around your finger, resting in his lap.
Before you, Javier Peña didn’t really have much to live for. He didn’t think he’d deserved to. He was tired and broken, disappointed in the man that he had become. Now, you had become his everything. His light, his hope, the thing that made life worth living. You had taken his broken and battered pieces and put him back together. You had made him whole again. On a Wednesday in May, Javier Peña had fallen head over heels with you, the woman who would forever change his life for the better. And on Thursday in late November, the woman who had forever changed him, was now his forever, too.
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 Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd
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waayoutofline · 2 months ago
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Murder On The Dance Floor (part 1)
(from the When the Cat and the Mouse Go For a Midnight Dance series) | Part 1 | Part 2| Marvel Masterlist
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Prompt: Vigilante!Reader x Agent!Natasha
Summary: Natasha isn’t having the best of luck in trying to bring one of the ex Hydras general down. You however may be able to assist her. Will you two be able to cooperate? Or is it your fate to always stand on opposite teams?
Warnings: None in this chapter.
WORD COUNT: 2510 (give or take)
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A/N: Hello!! So, this is heavily inspired by the song Murder on the Dance Floor (duh). I think it really suits the dynamic between Agent Natasha and Vigilante!Reader, and I thought, okay, let’s actually write it instead of just thinking about it and eventually forgetting. There are a few changes from the canon universe. In this AU, the Avengers didn’t separate after the Sokovia Accords (I’m a child of divorce, okay), so they’re a real family here. Peter is also part of the team and was never forgotten by every single human except, well Hulk (he deserves better). Natasha is alive and well, along with Yelena.And finally (last thing, I promise), this will be part of a mini-series. Maybe with three parts.That’s about it. Enjoy, and thanks for reading! :)
//
It was too late to do this. Natasha rubbed off the tiredness of her eyes for what must be the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. This was getting ridiculous.
”…What if-“
“For the last Yelena, we are not committing arson.” The blonde grunted at the quick dismissal, sliding down the synthetic, black leather chair. Crossing her arms with a tired pout, she didnt look much to different from the six year old girl Natahsa remembered. The clock in the conference room is getting more obnoxious by the second, as if teasing them to not having an answer yet.
Across the room, the sulked eyes of Benjamin Horvat were looking right back at her. His picture was poorly pinned, hanging unconventionally by a small blade (courtesy of Yelena) on the board. Steve wont be happy when he sees it.
”It would be a small one! It wouldn’t be that hard, just some small fires around some of his clubs, see if there is any luck and make him come out. Quick and subtle.”
”There is nothing subtle in that plan Yelena.” Natahsa turns down again dryly.
It’s been six hours since Yelena payed a visit to the renovated compound, bringing her 5 month old puppy Fanny (which is currently being spoiled by Wanda and Peter). She came in with new dirt onto a possible Hydra ex-officer, one of a depressing long list that the team has yet to tackle down. Most of them ran when SHIELD fell down.
The two of them plus Steve and Bucky, managed to get intel on Benjamin’s Horvat. He was currently involved is some kind of shady precious gem business, along owning some expensive clubs that served as covers for the mafia. At first glance, you’d say that he was just another second class criminal. But that as far as aparences went. Because people like him were worth something, he was heavily guarded.
His intel was precious enough to make him valuable and well-protected. Access to him seemed almost impossible.
The worst part was that he didn’t even bother using conventional transport. Even after combing through all national surveillance, he didn’t appear on any of the cameras. Not even Redwing, Sam’s beloved drone, had managed to get a clear visual of him. It was almost as if he’d gone underground (which he hadn’t—Natasha checked). And despite his love for nightlife, the clubs he owned and frequented were highly exclusive, each with multiple layers of security clearance.
After a long evening, both Steve and Bucky called it a night, but the two sisters were too stubborn to let it go. They were both running out of ideas—or, in Yelena’s case, running through a list of increasingly dangerous, borderline illegal suggestions. Eventually, exhaustion began to take over, and the blonde started dozing off, her head slipping forward as sleep crept up on her. Natasha wasn’t far behind, her eyelids drooping as the hours dragged on.
But then—a sharp, static crackle echoed through the speakers, jolting both women awake. Instinctively, they snapped into defensive stances, eyes darting to the screens around the room as they flickered in a disorienting pattern of black and white, struggling to stabilize.
Finally, the screens gave a clear image, revealing a shadowy figure cloaked in darkness.
“Night, ladies! Glad to see you’re still awake,” a teasing, lilting voice echoed through the speakers. “Huh, take out from Luigi’s huh? Their pizza rolls are to die for.”
Natasha’s eyes widened, a flicker of recognition sparking across her face. Her posture shifted, shoulders squaring as an unconscious surge of energy overtook her weariness. It can’t be.
“I’d prefer pizza bites. Who are you?” Yelena asked, mirroring Natasha as she stood up. She’d clearly sensed the change in Natasha’s demeanor.
The redhead grabbed the tablet on the table next to her, attempting to trace the breach, but the system was completely overridden. Whoever this was shouldn’t have been able to slip past their security. She called for FRIDAY, but the AI didn’t respond.
“Aw, come on, not even a hello? Do you know how long I spent trying to surpass that stupid robot of yours?” the voice continued playfully. “It’s been a while, Natty. I thought you’d be glad to see me—or, well, hear me.”
Natasha’s face remained painfully stoic, but her white-knuckled grip on the tablet betrayed her turmoil. She knew this person loved theatrics, but even for them, this was going too far. “How many times have I told you not to call me that.” Natasha grunts in annoyance, a headache already starting to set in. There is a brief silence. She can practically see your pout from here.
“Geez, so grumpy.”
Yelena watches the exchange with curiosity, somehow not detecting a real threat. “I sense some... history here.”
“There is!”
“There is not!”
Both women snapped at Yelena, making her eyes widen as she instinctively stepped back, lifting her hands in mock surrender. “Ha, when you say that, it usually means there is…” she stated, amused.But the sentence died under Natasha’s withering stare. “Alright, just an observation. Geez, you are grumpy.” she muttered under her breath. Catching Natasha’s warning look, Yelena slid back into the chair, still grinning despite herself.
“Can we focus?” Natasha said, voice clipped.
Yelena just shrugged, casting a glance between the two of you.
“Oh, come on, don’t get shy on me, Agent Romanoff. Is it because we haven’t had our little “I run, you go after me” sessions recently?” You teased. “I promise, you’re the only one I let chase after me.”
It’s true that its been a while since you have gone under the radar. Even if you weren’t out committing your little revendouz vigilantes acts, Natasha still couldn’t help to keep an eye out for you. It wouldn’t be the first time that you took a mini sabbatical and returned with more messes for her to clean up.
Finally, from the shadows, a woman stepped a young woman, posture relaxed, radiating an air of practiced confidence. You wore your typical casual clothes, a fitted jacket and a crop under it. Your face was partially obscured by the lighting, but Natasha could see a few loose strands of hair escaping, catching faintly in the room’s dim light. Chest rising up and down rather fastly. It’s like you just returned from somewhere.
Your eyes, bright yet focused, lingered on Natasha with an amused glint. The faintest smirk played at the corner of your mouth, an expression that made Natasha feel strangely restless. There was something in that permanent look of yours that always kept her on edge.
“Who are you?” Yelena blurted out.
You gasped dramatically, resting a hand on your chest as if genuinely wounded. “Why, you hurt me, Agent! Didn’t you tell her anything about me? And here I was, starting to think that I meant something to you.”
Natasha sighed in exasperation, her gaze still scanning for any sign of how you managed to break in. But it was as if you’d been authorized from the inside. She knew you were good, hidden behind that playful demeanor, but it was exhausting how you always seemed one step ahead. “There’s nothing to tell,” Natasha replied curtly, “besides the fact that you’re a pain.”
You huffed in false offender , crossing your arms. “Archenemies would have sufficed. Besides, that is no way to greet someone who can help you with Horvat.”
Both of them froze at the name. Giving up, the redhead throws the device on the table, getting slightly closer to the TV and crossing her arms. If this was going where she thought it was, caution was very much need. Especially with you.
“A little…birdie, told me that we have, for once, a common enemy. Excluding each other of course.” You smiled at the last sentence, but your eyes were bright with a dangerous spark.
“He’s not as unreachable as you may think. I guess that by now you have figured that he frequents the nightclubs in the Lower East Side. He is supposed to assist to an event tomorrow at night. Just our luck, right?”
Natasha’s brows furrowed. “Our? What, exactly, do you want with Horvat? Did he make it onto your little blacklist?” She scowled, still irritated by the last man you’d managed to eliminate right under her nose.
As if reading her thoughts, you let out a light, teasing laugh. “Ah, well, I wouldn’t exactly call it little,” you said, an amused glint in your eye.
Natasha huffed under her breath, visibly displeased with your evasiveness. “What’s in it for you?”
Your smile faded just slightly, and for a moment, a flicker of real purpose showed through the facade. “Let’s just say he has something I need. Something personal.”
Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion unwavering. “And how in the world would you ever entertain the thought of me agreeing to work together?”
“Because you’re stuck,” you shot back, your voice sharper than usual. “Let’s be real, Romanoff—if I could do this alone, I wouldn’t be here. But not even you can’t get to him on your own. And…neither can I.” You admitted through your teeth. The playful glint softened, replaced by an intensity Natasha hadn’t quite seen from you before.
“I need someone who won’t mess it up if I’m going to get to him,” you continued, the amused mask slipping just a bit more. “That’s where you come in. I mean, who better to handle some undercover work than the Black Widow herself?” The slight provocation didn’t go unnoticed, but Natasha’s mind was already racing with possibilities.
The room fell into silence, the ticking clock on the wall seeming louder than ever as Natasha’s eyes bore into yours, as if trying to see every hidden motive. Perhaps she should just go fetch Wanda. Still, she held herself steady, determined to avoid letting any trace of intrigue slip. It only took a spark for you to create a fire.
Yelena, sensing the tension between the two of you growing sharper by the second, finally cut in, a note of exasperation in her voice. “So… how could you get us in—”
“Yelena, no.” Natasha cut her off sharply, her posture rigid and unyielding. “We are not entertaining this. And I’m certainly not working with her,” she added, the cold in her tone unmistakable. She turned her gaze back to you, her expression filled with deep distrust. “She does nothing but trick and deceive, and I’m not about to let her pull us into a mess.”
You held her gaze steadily, a flicker of hurt passing through your eyes—brief enough for Natasha to notice. She shook her head sturborling, she couldn’t afford to feel any remorse for you. But as quickly as the emotion came, it vanished, and you rolled your eyes playfully. That was something that sparked Natasha’s curiosity. Just like herself in the past (maybe still now at times) it seemed as if you had a mask. She didn’t know exactly how genuine that unserious facade, the one you always seemed to hide behind, truly was.
“So distrustful and uptight as always, I see. Tell me, has she always been this way?” you asked, looking at the blonde. Yelena shrugged, starting to answer but clamping her mouth shut as Natasha arched an eyebrow in warning.
“Look, I’m not thrilled about this either. But it’s the only way. Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think so,” you said, your tone uncharacteristically steady. “I’ll even compromise and act like one of your ‘goody-two-shoes’ heroes.” You almost gagged on the words. “Swear I’ll play by your rules, as long as it gets us to him. If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I don’t lie. Have I ever lied to you, Natasha?”
There was no mockery in your voice this time, just an unexpected sincerity. Natasha paused, caught off guard. Had you deceived her? Absolutely. Tricked her? Too many times to count, wounding her pride each time. But lied, outright and blankly, right to her face? As shocking as it was, she couldn’t recall a single instance. No matter the game, you’d always been blunt about what you were going to do.
Yelena, noticing Natasha’s hesitation, leaned in. “сестра (sister), maybe… maybe she has a point. We’re no closer to him on our own. And if she can get us in…”
Natasha looked at her, seeing the reason in her words, though every fiber of her instinct fought against trusting you. After a long pause, she rubbed her temples, exhaling heavily. As sad as it was, there wasn’t any better option. But to admit that she had no other option than to work with you, of all people, was burning her pride.
“Fine.”
Yelena gave a small fist pump of victory, relief lighting her face after the hours they’d spent trying to come up with a solid plan. Meanwhile, you grinned, satisfaction gleaming in your eyes.
“But—” Natasha cut in, fixing you with a hard look. “No tricks, no double-crossing. As you said before, do this by my rules, is that clear?”
You raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of your usual defiance flashing in your expression. “Well, I mean… it is my plan so technically—”
“My. Rules.” Natasha repeated, her voice dropping to a dangerously low tone that left little room for argument. Her stare bore into you, unyielding, and the confidence in your face faltered just a bit. “Understood?”
You swallowed, any spark of rebellion snuffed out under the intimidating weight of her gaze. “Understood,” you muttered, a hint of surprising, begrudging compliance in your tone.
“Oooh, scary mean glare,” Yelena muttered under her breath, clearly entertained as she watched you two bickering. A mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned back, curious to see how will play out between you two. Perhaps she should pay visits more often.
“Enlighten us, then. What in the world does this great plan, legal plan of yours involve?” Natasha inquires dryly. Another cheeky grin on your face was enough for her to know that she won't like it in the slightest. It was almost sinister, how much you enjoyed to push her bottons.
”Well…that answer can vary. How are your dance moves, Agent Romanoff?
Clearly baffled, she didnt have time to answer when someone blasted through the door, startling all three of you. “You! Are you the one you hacked FRIDAY?” demanded a frantic Tony Stark, dressed in Iron Man-themed pajamas, bags under his eyes and a steaming coffee pot in hand labeled “#1 Best Hero” (a gift from Peter). Honestly, Natahsa is a firm believer that he bought it himself but whatever.
You giggled almost manically. “Oops, that’s my cue! Talk to you later to get into details, Agent.” You practically purred, teasingly waving goodbye before cutting the connection in one swift motion. Natasha was met with her reflection on the now dark screen, your last words hanging heavily on the air.
Natasha drops on the chair heavily, grunting and rubbing her temples while looking at the roof in despair. How does she always end up in these situations?
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missmarveledsblog · 4 months ago
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Flumpy ( jake seresin x reader) part 8
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summary : the moment he was dreading came jake got his deployment papers , terrified since this is first time he's been in love while on deployment , he self sabotages everything maybe even losing the best thing he's ever had in his life can he make it right in four weeks before he's to leave for three months
warning : angst . jakes a bit of a dick in this one ( don't kill me ) hurt
a.n. : i know i said last part would be part 8 but i can't leave it at that so i'll be posting new parts over the next few days <3
The hard deck  was busier than usual  as it was convention season  meaning people all over the US and even abroad coming to san diego trying to get a room and good night out experience while they were there .   many woman and men flocking in as a chance to bed a man in a uniform like it was a universal bucket  list goal .  This used to be a prime time for jake seresin like his own personal christmas in the past to bed these women with no expectations of anything else giving  they would be go by end of the weekend back to where ever they came from .  But now it was different it was just another weekend at the hard deck since he got the girl of his dreams even if said girl was currently dressed up as some game character having an intense argument  or  “ discussion” with fanboy about some sci fi show he’s never seen  or was it a game  he was unsure after  half hour .  He wasn’t going to lie when he discovered his girl was a major nerd fully into the whole dress up thing was probably the hottest thing especially when it was his beautiful girl .  her wig long forgot tuck in his truck safely but the costume she had on made him strain in his pants most of the night . the downside of  it was he wasn’t the only one that thought she looked good , guys asking if they could take picture with his girl , his flumpy well it brought out  the jealous side in jake . he watched every time she went to the bar or if she was playing pool how the eyes lingered on her  a little too long .  he found himself standing behind wrapping his arm around her waist , placing kisses on her neck  letting them all see she was his  not that she was complaining at all . 
It also didn’t help he got those dread papers that told him he was to spend three months away from the woman he love. He never had this before , he never gotten to the stage with women to wait for him while he was deployed , he was going to let her enjoy the weekend let her  have her fun , he could tell her while she was so excited and so happy it would crush her. But he wouldn’t be lying if  it wasn’t driving him more crazy knowing he’d be away for three months and guys would be looking at her like that when he’s not around it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her , he didn’t trust his fellow men .  the dagger squad would be there to be there for her , it was just all new for him  and it scared the hell out of him . 
She loved convention week  truly she got to let her nerd side run free  and even more so having a friend like fanboy to join her and an amazing boyfriend who hyped her up even if he’d no clue who the character was . what she didn’t like though was the base bunnies  that came from all over looking at her man like he was some sort of prize to attain .  how their hungry eyes tried devour him when he was playing darts or heading to the bar . she couldn’t blame them though jake in his uniform was drool inducing material . how big his arms looked almost straining in the khakis  or how he stood tall like a tree but at end of the day that was her tree . winning her debate with fanboy she sat with nat as the guys teamed up  on game of pool  , the weird addition to the squad and one man she didn’t see coming was kyle. Turns out he wasn’t such a bad guy after all just a dumb guy trying to make an impression but learning a lesson and knowing the right way to go about thing or was it the brunette beside her that had him changing his ways . like a different man altogether  to prove he was worth a chance he and nat hit it off . took them all awhile to get used to  come around especially jake but even he ended up giving the guy a chance .   the two watched their men team up against fanboy and payback on the pool table shamelessly ogling their men  and they weren’t the only ones . 
“ god if they don’t stop i think i may end up in a cell tonight” y/n huffed  eyes glaring around the bar. 
“ down girl , nothing to worry about plus jakes been staking his claim all  night and kyles not far behind him  but it is slightly annoying” nat agreed. 
“ ugh i need a drink you want one?” she hopped off stool . 
“ nah but the boys look like their beers need a refill” . 
“On it lieutenant trace” she saluted making nat snort out laughing. 
It was hard to manoeuvre  almost bumping into everyone on the way  . she finally reached the front of the bar almost dramatically as penny came over taking her order she sat waiting for the drink feeling someone bump into her harshly . 
“ hey watch it asshole… mark?” her head tilted seeing an old college buddy last she heard he was across the pond . 
“ hey short stuff what you doing here” he cheered almost lifting her up in a hug. 
“ erm i could say the same thing mr i moved to the uk” she laughed. 
“ my husband got transferred to a firm here in san diego so boom here we are” he chuckled . 
“  i knew it lizzy and kelly thought i was full of shit but the gaydar is never wrong” she jumped excitedly.  
“ i mean it was very obvious  i don’t know how i was blind myself to it” he rolled his eyes . 
“ well i went through something like that myself .. i mean not sexuality but i was totally blind to see my boyfriend was in love with me … long story” she snorted . 
“ oh well since  we should meet up for coffee and share the long storie , here put your number in  and we’ll sort the detail” he smiled handing her his phone. 
“ who hell is talking to , why is she taking his phone ?” jake frowned watching the scene  transpire  usually his rational side would chalk down to something reasonable but he never seen this guy before nor has she mention a friend in the hard deck and he knew all her friend hell the were sitting with him in that moment. 
“ ask her  and you’ll see  its nothing” phoenix rolled her eyes knowing it was nothing. 
“ dude looks like a male model or some shit”  kyle spoke up . 
“ not helping newbie” fanboy winced. Jake was pissed  the attention she’d been getting all day and night pissing him off , maybe he wasn’t thinking right or maybe it would be easier not to have her waiting for him , to worry about if he was going to be coming back or not .  it was stupid idea but maybe it was the right one . 
“ hey jake thought i might find you here” a voice purred . 
“ hey cassie not the time” he huffed  she was probably  the only regular he had when it came to convention time. 
“ looks like i came right  time , you look all tense maybe we could head to my hotel i can help you out” she smiled fingers dancing up his chest . 
“ yeah not happening “ a voice called pulling her hand away . 
“ and why wouldn’t it sorry little girl i got here first and we go way back” cassie smiled clinging to jakes arm. 
“ i’d suggest you get yourself off my boyfriend before you get a reservation in the hospital lady” y/n almost growled. 
“ wasn’t your boyfriend when you were getting that dudes number” he scoffed. 
“ doesn’t seem like your boyfriend want me to leave” cassie smirked as y/n furrowed while jakes made no  way to move the woman.  Why wasn’t he moving the woman from his arm. 
“ actually i was going to ask you to come to dinner with that dude and his husband during week but i can see your busy,  can’t believe you thought i would do something like that to you ” she placed the drinks down and grab her coat and bag rushing through the crowd not caring who she hit on her way   . 
“ shit y/n wait   ..get off me “ he moved  pushing through the crowd  realising this wasn’t the right idea it wasn’t even close to the right idea.  By the time he got out of the bar she was long gone , pulling his phone out trying to call her but it just kept going to voicemail .  he just maybe fucked up the best thing that had happened to him all because of his own fears and stupidity .  his head hung low he called a cab to take him home try and see if he could fix the whole mess  that’s even if she would hear him out. 
She felt sick to her stomach , how could he not trust her , how could he think she would do something like that to him when she spent majority of her time showing him he was the love of her life maybe he was bored with her. Maybe after it all he just wasn’t ready to be in a committed relationship god she felt so stupid  and even worse they lived together how the hell was she going to navigate it all . she couldn’t even think of that now everything hurt  from a migraine to the feeling of her heart hurting like it that tramp at the bar  took it from her chest and stomped on it . maybe they rushed into things and he changed his mind on how he feels now she was crying in the back  of an uber while the poor driver didn’t know what to say he probably thought she was a nut job in her costume  and make up that was definitely down her face now. Her phone kept buzzing and beeping between jake and nat calling her non stop . she text nat to let her know she got uber home and she’d ring when she was better as for jake she didn’t even bother to text or ring him well she did telling him to leave her alone. 
The moment she got home she headed straight her room thankfully roo was out or else it would be world war three in the house she knew that much for sure . she grabbed the clothes jake left in her room and through them into the hall before locking her bedroom door heading to the shower needing to wash away the night , hoping the hot water would help relax her now tense muscles so she could go sleep . she was too mentally exhausted to even bare confronting him .  she heard the front door open  , she heard the footstep running down the hall , she heard the banging on her door and his pleading to  talk to him . 
He felt sick seeing his thing thrown to the floor ,  the door to her room locked  and it broke his heart when he could hear her crying . he did that , he hurt her because he was a coward  . self sabotaging the best thing that he ever had . he felt his own tears coming falling down his cheek  ,  he felt his back hitting the door and sliding to the floor hoping this was some sort nightmare he was going to wake up from .  he would wake and she would be wrapped in his arms and yet he knew it wasn’t the case he knew he truly well and truly fucked up . but he wasn’t going to give up til he made it right , show her he made a stupid mistake his deployment was four weeks he could do it right?.
part 9
taglist : @harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs @emma8895eb
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zukkathirst · 3 months ago
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Hi everyone, thank you so much for taking part in the Zukka Thirst NSFW weekend! As promised, here is our masterlist of amazing fanworks created for the weekend, and we wanted to put them together here one easy post for clicking!
Before I begin we just want to thank the creators who took part - this was a fun weekend to run and we hope you had fun too, and that you enjoyed sprinkling a little bit of spice into our Zukka hotpot!
We've popped the list under a read-more to save dash space, but under the cut you'll find a compilation of all the great stuff that came (����) out of the weekend. Each work comes with its own individual warnings and tags on it, so please read before scrolling down - or if in doubt, browse the AO3 collection instead! We've also included links to the promo post(s) for each piece on tumblr if you'd like to reblog directly from the author or artist. And obvious caveat - all these creations are not worksafe!!
And without further ado... the fanworks!
Title: Blowjob Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: They blow each other :-) Links: AO3 Preview:
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Title: Just Get On Your Knees (Say Pretty Please) Creator: @erisenyo on tumblr | erisenyo on AO3 Summary: Zuko has a crush. Detective Wang Fire is on the case. And Sokka--Sokka might have a few questions, too, once he gets past how fun it is to see Zuko so flustered. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
“Don’t worry, love,” Sokka tosses over his shoulder, smirking as Zuko’s heat licks up his back. “Second place is still good enough to get your dick w—wait. Mine?” Zuko tumbles Sokka onto the bed. “Yours?” “You said mine doesn’t have posters.” Sokka shoves his loose hair out of his face, rolling onto his back just in time for Zuko to straddle him. “Meaning yours. Your—crush? You have a crush?”
Title: A Primer on How to Make Tax Codes, Trade Taffirs, and Asset Management Sexy Creator: Escyn on tumblr | Escyn on AO3 Summary: NSWF art inspired by Erisenyo’s Lessons in Proper Asset Management Links: AO3 Preview:
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Title: high-strung Creator: @ranilla-bean on tumblr | ranilla-bean on AO3 Summary: Sokka gives Zuko a maths lesson. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
Sokka’s eyebrow rose. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. What was he up to? Zuko’s breath hitched; his fingers dug into the lotus silk of his robe. He had never quite managed to become immune to Sokka’s charms. A playful brown hand reached into the bag and pulled out— Well, Zuko wasn’t sure what it was.
Title: Piercings Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: Zuko gets ALL the piercings. Sokka approves. Links: AO3 Preview:
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Title: Enhanced Interrogation Creator: @watertribe-inventor-guy on tumblr | Fishstick_LBT on AO3 Summary: It's dick. The advanced interrogation method is Fire Lord dick. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
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Title: Nice Contrast Creator: @aimrwv on tumblr | AIMRWV on AO3 Summary: Suki mentions Sokka’s involvement in an underground movement for sexual liberation within the Fire Nation and Zuko wonders why his closest friend had never bothered telling him about it.
He finds out the "hard" way. Links: AO3 link Preview:
“Sorry that I wasn’t super excited to talk about my less conventional sex-life with a happily married straight man who also just happens to be the Fire Lord and – wait – my employer.” Sokka said, the bite behind his words was clearly for show but Zuko decided to play along.   “Employer” He snorted. “Do you really think that I treat anyone else in this palace like I treat you? I can assure you you’re the only one of my employees who is allowed to sit on my private balcony and share carafe after carafe of this nation’s finest wine with me. That’s how I treat friends, Sokka. And also, I think, as the regent monarch, I should know about underground movements in my country.”
Title: Cooling down (and heating right back up again) Creator: Escyn on tumblr | Escyn on AO3 Summary: NSFW art inspired by SyciaraLynx's Married Zukka Banging it Out Series Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
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Title: Zukka Thirst Weekend Creator: @shesmykindofboi on tumblr | chibicthulhu on AO3 Summary: Drawing for zukka thirst prompt event on tumblr, literally the first nsfw art I’ve ever done. Fun! Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
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Title: up with the sun Creator: @dickpuncherdraws on tumblr | dickpuncher420 on ao3 Summary: Sokka wakes up feeling frisky. Links: AO3 link | tumblr promo post Preview:
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Title: Unfulfilled Needs Creator: @baileynono on tumblr | baileynono on AO3 Summary: Sokka and Zuko come to the realisation that they desperately need to fuck. However, there are only very few moments where the Fire Lord won't be interrupted. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
“So, mighty Fire Lord, how has this evening been treating you?” Zuko scrunches up his face. “I didn’t escape a bunch of nonsense to hear you spout some more.” “Oh, please. You love it even when I talk all fancy to you.” Sokka receives a glare and a squeeze on his shoulders as Zuko very pointedly avoids his face. “Come on, I asked you a question! How has this evening been?”
Title: Doodles that embarrass me Creator: blu3berrydraws on tumblr | Blu3berry on AO3 Summary: this is a dump for spicy sketches that ill never finish or refine all of them are NSFW ! They feature nudity and sexual acts ! Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
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Title: Jockey Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: Zuko gets pounded into the bed Links: AO3 Preview:
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Title: Zukka Smut Compilation Creator: @ash-and-starlight on tumblr | Summary: A place where I can gather my nsfw zukka art, starting off with entries for the Zukka Thirst Weekend over on Tumblr
1) Frotting + fem!zukka 2) Hickeys + modern au 3) Spooning 4) Blowjob + t4t zukka 5) Rimming + a scene from ranilla_bean's "in flammam flammas" Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post 1 | tumblr promo post 2 | tumblr promo post 3 Preview:
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Title: golden apple of my eye Creator: @glycopyrrolate on tumblr | aiyah on AO3 Summary: Sokka has a fantastic idea. Zuko obliges. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
But what if? Stupid ideas mean stupid decisions. Sokka’s the type of guy to think about stupid shit when he really shouldn’t. It usually comes back to bite him in the ass.
Title: hit the back Creator: @dickpuncherdraws on tumblr | dickpuncher420 on ao3 Summary: Zuko knows how to treat her girl right. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
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Title: helping hand Creator: @ranilla-bean on tumblr | ranilla-bean on AO3 Summary: Sokka wears Zuko like a glove puppet. 🤜 Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post Preview:
Back home, they had, well, objects for this. All sorts of lewd things not meant for polite eyes that they could cram out of sight into all sorts of holes. At Kuei’s palace, they did not. But Sokka was looking thoughtful. “Wait… We might not have our toys, but…” He held up a hand and waggled it. “We could improvise?”
Title: Zukka Thirst Event Creator: @arandin-art on tumblr | nekoppi on AO3 Summary: My art participation to the Zukka Thirst Weekend. Links: AO3 | tumblr post Preview:
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Title: You are going to carry that weight Creator: Escyn on tumblr | Escyn on AO3 Summary: Smutty mostly art that took on a life of its own. Ft. Sokka as a cowboy, Zuko as a samurai, scruffy middle-aged men looking for a second chance, and a non-insurmountable language barrier. Links: AO3 | tumblr promo post | tumblr promo post 2 Preview:
"When my lover left me for another man, I, ah, killed both him and his new lover. I felt much, how do you say it, lighter? Yes, lighter." The stranger peers at Sokka though his lashes, golden gaze assessing what Sokka can only guess is a look of utter bewilderment on his face. Heartbreak had driven Sokka away from the only home he ever knew, to a foreign land with only his flask and a letter of introduction to a cattle rancher to his name. The letter had lead him here, on a train to the middle of nowhere, the Eurasian plain flying by. The flask had him spilling his guts to this unsuspecting stranger. A stranger who maybe just admitted to murder, whose pretty pink lips demand all of Sokka's attention, he wants them wrapped around his-- "Would doing that also help you?" Sokka sputters, moving the flask away from his lips. Coughing, he feels the low alcohol buzz in his stomach transform into something hot and churning. So many questions, but only one passes his lips. "Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Title: Zukka Thirsty Weekend Creator: @chiptrillino Summary: Collection of drawings for the characters sokka and zuko, based on the prompt bingo from the zukka thirst event on tumblr. Links: AO3 Preview:
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Title: Fuck me Juliet Creator: @umossu on tumblr | 1mossplease on AO3 Summary: Zuko is horny and Sokka is saying something. Then Sokka is horny, and Zuko is saying something. Then they're both talking. Then they're fucking. Links: AO3 Preview:
The moonlight shines only on Sokka's right side: one eye, bluer than the ocean spirit, stares back at him. Zuko forgets to breathe for a moment. When Sokka's fingers slide down his neck, it brings him back to his senses, and Zuko asks, "Can I–" They're kissing. 
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago
Text
Guileless
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, dejection, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The reader attempts to move past her ruination, but is reminded of her tarnish conscience at every turn. (Regency AU, tall!reader)
Masterlist
Character: Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson
Note: thanks to those who waited on this one!.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you like I love coffee and that’s a lot and probably unhealthy. Take care. 💖
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It should be the happiest time in your life. You should be elated, and yet, as ever it is, every victory precedes a treacherous defeat. A proposal one day, and despair the next. That nipping of doom in your gut, that ever present doubt, is made certain by the passage of time. It has been much too long. 
You sit in the pews, throat tight as you keep your chin locked. You breathe slowly, as if too sudden an intake might unleash the tempest brewing inside of you. It is more than nerves, you know it, that sicken you so. You should be happy for your pending nuptials but you are only horrified at the thought. 
The bishop reads out the banns before the rows; the first for yourself, the third for your sister. She will be permitted to wed and your mother has presided over much of planning already. You dip your head as your name rings out beside Lord Odinson’s and you swallow back a swell of bile. You’ve been gulping down your own stomach for much of the morning, ever since you caught a whiff of pickled shallots in passing the kitchens. 
You push your head up and your hand down to your lap, knowing you will be observed. You must at least look certain of your fate. You must sit proud for the engagement all would put into question. For the time until it shall all dissolve, you must play your part. 
You can barely keep from wilting where you are. A prudent woman might bite her tongue. She may commit to the theatre of it all. She might lie and get away with the folly. You glance over at Lord Odinson, just across the aisle, and you know you cannot. It isn’t one lie, it’s a lifetimes’ worth of betrayal. 
Yet how should you tell it? It isn’t only him who must know. Your father would need good reason why you’d rather the convent to a proper marriage. You will be ruined but you could not put that stain upon the only person who was ever kind to you. Lord Odinson deserves an honest wife and a child of his own. 
Your insides sour and you nearly spasm as you fight the tide of nausea, brought upon by more than your forsaken condition. Your eyes trail away from your betrothed to another man bound in promise. Lord Rogers sits with your sister, as ever, and she leans on him shamelessly, even beneath the Lord’s rafters. 
She would deny it. She would laugh in your face should you ever reveal the absolute truth. No, you must confess the sin as your own and that alone. You will not name the culprit for they would they never believe you and he would never admit it himself. 
Yet, you know that the Duke Rogers will ever be triumphant in knowing that he has brought the monstrous giant to her knees. You are his Goliath, the vile retched creature he has slain in his valour. He will be hero and you be the villain. 
💟
You hand the letter to the carrier just before noon. You don’t expect an audience to be granted until the next morning at earliest. Lord Odinson is a busy man; an ambassador in much demand between the house and society. Even his betrothed must request his presence. 
The cart rattles through the gates and you watch it fade off into the grim horizon. The winter bites in the air, adding to the chill in your bones. That coldness that freeze over your heart. You must be strong now, as strong as the valkyrie he misnamed you as. 
When you go to Lord Odinson, you will bring the crown to him. You will hand it back and admit your tainted stature to him. You will show him how truly small you are.  
At least, that is what you intend. You may prove yourself weak as ever. However it should unfold, this engagement cannot persist. 
“A day! A day and I shall call you husband,” Cora’s shrill tone greets you as you come through the front doors. She is in the sitting room with Lord Rogers. Your mother continues to fawn over the last-minute details for their wedding. “Isn’t it very exciting, my lord?” 
“And I shall call you wife.” 
“And Duchess,” she preens with a trilling laugh, “oh, how elaborate I shall be.” 
“My Athena,” Rogers drones back, “my goddess, my beloved.” 
“Oh, how darling,” your mother preens over them, “it shall be resplendent. I’ve made certain the cake will be exactly as you like it, dearie. The cook has even procured some citrus for the lemonade.” 
The mention of lemonade makes you shrivel. You recall the sunny day when Lord Rogers spoke to you over a weeping beverage. As you fell for that virulent charm. And all that came after. 
You peer at the grim windows and frown. How everything does change so quickly. Happiness is fleeting and yet disappointment comes as a chronic plight. You will never know a day without shame. 
You flit off without notice. Your heart rents at the thought that you will not have the same fervour. You will not sit and plan your own wedding with Lord Odinson. All your fanciful dreams have evaporated. It is one thing to put a mask on, to pretend as virgin, but you could never foist a bastard upon the kind man who has shown you a taste happiness. You will be certain to thank him for all he’s done but you will not spit in his face. 
As you get to the bedroom doors, your stomach churns violently and you burst through, not stopping as you rush to the pot and fall to your knees. You wretch into it as your body contracts painfully. You empty your stomach until you are panting and hollow. 
“Sister,” Alina startles you as she rolls to the edge of the bed, a novel in hand, “is it a winter ague?” 
“I...” you shakily wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “I believe so.” 
That lie alone singes your tongue like a brand. Your eyes well with tears and you flick them away with your lashes. You sit back on your heels and heave out a pungent breath. 
“Oh, how awful, and just before the wedding,” she sits up and shuts the novel. “Let us pray it passes quickly. You needn’t delay your own nuptials.” 
“Mm, no, that wouldn’t be...” you let the sentence tail off and you stand, taking the pot with you, “I’ll dump it before it can stink.” 
“If you are unwell, call for the maid.” 
“No, it is fine,” you insist, “I didn’t mean to disturb your reading.” 
“You didn’t,” she insists. “What’s the matter, sissie? You hardly seem a lady about to marry.” 
“I...” you croak, “it is the ague, that’s all.” 
“Mm, perhaps Lord Odinson might offer some comfort should it get any worse. He does seem the character,” she offers. 
“Or perhaps he is better to stay away. You as well, should it pass onto anyone else,” you hold the pot to your stomach and turn, carrying it out without another word. Albina huffs and falls back onto the bed, the flutter of pages following shortly after. 
You descend and keep along the wall, passing through the kitchens and beyond the servants’ quarters to the rear of the manse. You come out into the crisp air and overturn the pot well away from the house. A wave of dizziness washes over you, silver spots dotting your vision. Perhaps it is an ague. Oh how you wish it were. 
You set the pot down as you grasp at some stability. You stand and wipe your clammy forehead. Your hand drifts down to your bodice and you let it venture further. You try to feel your stomach through the layers. It is tauter than it once was but no rounder. Not as yet. 
You sit on a low stump, the seat the stabler uses to shoe the horses. You let the frigid air seep through your dress and stare at the grey clouds that blot out the sun. You hold your chin, elbows on your legs, hunched over as you let the stagnancy of that moment swallow you. 
For a moment, you believe that you can make time stand still. That you might stretch on this fantasy a little longer. That a single second might be spent into an eternity. You shake your head and close your eyes as your cheeks tingle with the cold. 
You try to picture the convent. You imagine dark halls and darker mornings. Prayers and repentance filling the days and keeping wakeless the nights. Would the nuns even accept a ruined soul like yours? 
“Miss,” Mary, the broom girl, stands along the path back to the house, “you have a caller.” 
You sit up and blink, a caller? How long have you been there? You shiver and rise, towering over the young servant like the mottled forest creature of wives tales. You nod and stride past her, rubbing your arms to warm yourself as you return to the house. 
It cannot be him. Not already. You’re not prepared. It has been all you can think of and yet you are wholly unready for it. 
You carry on inside and come into the main hall. Lord Odinson waits, your mother chittering at his elbow as Lord Rogers and Cora stand in the archway to the west wing. 
“You will be at the wedding tomorrow? We did not receive your response sir,” your mother pleads as she tugs his sleeve. 
“Ah, yes, did I not give it?” Odinson says coolly, “certainly I will come with some Asgardian ale to christen the blissful newlyweds.” 
“And we thank you for such generosity,” Cora coos. 
“I’m certain refreshments will be plenty,” Lord Rogers deflects. 
“Ah,” Lord Odinson’s attention is drawn by your emergence from behind the staircase, “my valkyrie, you called for me and I am here.” 
“I... you have come so... swiftly,” you remark, your voice teetering. 
“Of course,” he assures as he crosses the polished floor, “as ever I will for my beloved.” He approaches and takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles, “you are like ice,” he feels your hands and covers them with his gloved ones, “are you ill?” 
“No, uh, yes, no,” you stammer, “sir, I only meant... I only thought to speak with you.” 
“I do cherish the tenor of your sweet voice, lady, I would ride so fast as I might to hear it,” he assures. 
“You rode... all this way, my lord?” 
“I do prefer to be in a saddle,” he affirms, “so, shall we converse? Perhaps we might have some tea to warm you, my valkyrie.” 
“Please,” you cringe, wishing he would quit his honeyed words, “I do not require it. Perhaps somewhere private...” 
“With chaperone of course,” your mother insists. You blanch but do your best not to show your unease. “Pollo! Pollo!” She claps, “forgive me I will not be able to do so myself as I have much to attend to for the morrow, but we have a groom here... Pollo!” 
She cries out and the dark-haired man appears. The old groom has a round belly and wine-reddened cheeks. He doesn’t speak more than Italian but he is steadfast in his service. Your mother bids him, pointing at you, then shoos him with a flick of her fingers. 
He shrugs and bows his head, nearing you and the duke. You peer over at your sister and Lord Rogers as they watch. The former stares at your betrothed as he clings still to your hands and the latter narrows his eyes in your direction. Just the sight of him makes you even more sick than before. Of any, he cannot know though you expect should Cora find out, it will not be a secret. 
“The sun room, perhaps,” Odinson suggests. 
“As you wish,” you agree. 
He offers his arms and you accept it. He guides you along, well-acquainted to the halls already, and takes you around to the sun room. The curtains are closed and the space is dim with the shadow of winter. The groom claims the armchair in the corner, making it groan with his weight, as another servant follows to light a lamp and put flint to the fireplace. 
When all is lit, you detach from Odinson and retreat from him. You mash your hands together and sway, spinning back to face him as he watches you intently. He seems unbothered by the spontaneity of it all. 
“You missed me? I have longed to see you again,” he beams. 
“Please,” you show your palms, “please, I... we must speak.” 
“Of? Name anything and it shall be yours. As my wife, you will never want for anything, valkyrie.” 
You wince as if struck. You drop your arms and your head. You stalk over to the bench that looks toward the window and sit, slumped forward as you shake your head. He approaches as he lets out a long exhale. He sits beside you. 
“Something is amiss. Forgive me for making light, I came upon mistaken sentiment,” his voice is grave, “you have something to say and I must listen. As ever, I am the storm but these winds have calmed.” 
You rock and another hot tinge settles behind your eyes. You roll them up and sit straight. You crane to see over your shoulder. Rollo’s eyes are closed as he’s halfway to sleeping. It is propriety alone that has him sat in that chair. 
You look ahead once more, “I cannot marry you.” 
He sucks in air and snorts, “what?” 
“I cannot—it cannot—I'm sorry, Lord Odinson.” 
“Why ever should you change your mind? The banns are read and will be again,” he touches your arm and you shy away. 
“You deserve... better.” 
“I deserve you,” he insists. 
“Please, sir, let me find the words,” you beg touch your temples as you try to rein in your wits. You close your eyes and shudder. 
“You are cold still, perhaps you might move closer to the fire--” 
“It hardly matters,” you lower your hands and clutch them tight.  
You make yourself look at him. You must. He warrants at least the truth told to his face and not the floor. His blue eyes twinkle as his usually bright face is stern. 
“I am...” you take a breath and struggle to let it back out as the words burn the tip of your tongue, “I... am with... child.” 
You choke out the last word and nearly faint. You stare at him, waiting for him to explode. You mightn’t even have a say in who knows should he speak too loudly. His eyes search yours and he blinks. He turns his face down and looks at his lap, gripping his thighs as he nods and hums. 
“That’s wonderful,” he says. 
“Pardon?” 
“Yes, it’s wonderful. We’ll have a child.” 
“Sir, I—we haven’t... it is another man’s,” you feel as if you shouldn’t have to explain this. 
“Why certainly he put it there, yes, but I would claim it,” he faces you again. 
Your eyes round, “why should you do that? That isn’t... proper. I am not proper, sir. I am telling you that I have been... corrupted. I should never have said yes.” 
“But you did.” 
“You needn’t-- it isn’t fair.” 
“Perhaps it isn’t fair that you should have to carry the cad’s seed,” he agrees, “for any many who would lay with a lady and not seek her hand, well, he can be nothing else.” 
You’re quiet as disbelief clouds around you. He can’t possibly mean it. He must be in shock. Certainly, he wouldn’t just accept another’s child. 
“Sir, you shouldn’t-- you shouldn’t do this. I am releasing you.” 
“I don’t want to be released,” he says sullenly. 
“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask. 
“I meant all I said to you, from the first breath, my valkyrie,” he proclaims. “And I mean it still.” 
“But, sir, you cannot—I cannot live with myself--” 
“You are honourable. Honest. You have told me this when you did not need to. When you could’ve claimed an early birth, when you could have kept quiet, yet you did not. That says more than a fleeting tryst. For that’s what it was, yes? Or do you lay with this man still?” 
You shake your head and look down at your fingers as you twists them until they hurt, “just once. Only once. It was... unplanned. It wasn’t...” your voice cracks. 
His chest inflates with a sonorous breath, “did you want it?” 
“Pardon?” You murmur. 
“Unplanned... did you... was it... your tryst, was it willing?” 
You put your fist to your mouth and sob. You can’t say it. You won’t. You replay it in your head every night and you think of how you told him to stop and yet you did not stop him. You should have fought more. You should have screamed. 
“I didn’t make him stop,” you eke around your hand. 
“Make him? Did you ask him to begin?” 
“Please, sir, I cannot—please just end this and I will ask my father for the convent once more. I cannot bring this shame on you.” 
“Shame? Shame is the man, if I should call him that, who has done this,” he snarls and reaches for you, taking your hand. “I swore you would be my wife and I will hold to that. As you swore to be my wife. We will see the altar together. As one.” 
“You do not have to--” 
“I want to,” he growls and you look up at his angry face. You’ve never seen such fury in him. “I have never done anything but by my own whim and will not change that now.” 
“You are too nice, sir. Too nice, I cannot ask it--” 
“Who?” He sneers. 
“Sir?” 
“Who has done this to you?” 
“I cannot--” 
“I should know.” 
“No, please, I wouldn’t-- it would be my ruin--” 
“No, it would be his and you protect him still, so tell me.” 
“No, no I will not. That I cannot tell you, sir. To say it would defeat me completely.” 
He sighs into a snarls and lowers his chin. He sounds like a simmering bull, readying for the charge. You tug on your hand but he will not release you. You relent and let him cling to you. 
Silence, suffocating and still.  
“My brother was an orphan. We took him in when he was young. He is a duke, same as me, now,” he declares as he squares his posture. “You wouldn’t know the difference. And I won’t. Not between this child and our next.” 
“Sir, surely--” 
“We are to have a child,” he says, “that is happy news and I thank you for bringing me here to hear it.” He pets your hand and leans his arm against yours. He brings your fingers up to your mouth and kisses them, “one day, I will know who the culprit is and on that, I will surely split his skull. Not for his bastard, for that child has no sin, but for your honour, lady. For my wife’s honour.” 
💟
Cora’s wedding to Lord Rogers culminates in a grand luncheon. The bride is a beautiful mist of tears as she accepts the well wishes of her guests. She basks in the attention as you gladly languish in the shadows. 
Despite Lord Odinson’s unexpected and reassuring reaction, you’re still uncertain. You don’t know if he’s keeping a good face on until he knows how to act, perhaps renegs his grace, or if you might come to pay for your discretion later in your union. You’re prepared to meet your atonement, however it comes. 
As you sit for the meal, the chair beside you is claimed almost at once. Your betrothed has appeared throughout the event but you’ve hardly been at his side. Each time you see him, his eyes skim the crowd as if he can see right through every one of them. Yet, when he looks at you, you feel only warmth. You don’t understand how he can look at you as such. 
“How do you fare, today, my valkyrie?” He asks as he straightens his cravat, “you look well.” 
“Good, I think.” 
“Glad to hear it,” he raises his glass for a servant to fill it with sherry. You opt for lemon water, as much as your tumultuous stomach can handle. 
“I thought we might have our own reception at Nine Pillars,” he suggests. 
“I would like that,” you agree, your eyes drifting beyond him, to your father’s gardens, where... “whatever you may offer, I will be grateful for.” 
“Mighty valkyrie, full of grace,” he praises and reaches for a platter, “ooh, they have some sweet ham here with pineapple.” 
He takes a helping and puts it on your plate. You smell the tangy fruit and the underline savoury waft of the meat. You lurch and grasp the edge of the table. You give a panicked look to Odinson as he peers down at the food. He switches your plates out swiftly. 
“Tell me, what are you in the mind for then?” He leans in so his arm touches yours as you sip from the lemon water to quell your stomach. “Valkyrie, give me your command and I will obey.” 
You give him a coy grin, “you can be so silly.” 
“Silly. Mad. All for love,” he assures you.  
“Is their anything dry?” You ask, “bread, perhaps.” 
“Sourdough,” he reaches to take the basket as others help themselves to the spread. 
“I’ll have some of that.” 
“With marmalade?” He offers.  
“No,” your face pinches at the thought, “no, bread will do.” 
You blink and shake of another tide of sickness. As you do, your eyes meet another pair further down the table, amid the rabble of voices. Lord Rogers tilts his head as Cora tugs on his sleeve and giggles up at the couple behind them. He hardly seems to notice as he stares you down. 
You go rigid and quickly look away. You touch Odinson’s arm to keep from panicking. He looks at you, then down the table. He doesn’t say anything, merely carves off a chunk of bread for you. 
You pick away at the hard crust and the dry spongey inside. You take small bites, cautious of upsetting your volatile stomach. The afternoon wears on, course after course, and you avoid those dishes which threaten to overthrow your restraint. 
At last, the cake is serves, a tiered sponge with cream and fruit and candied sugar spun in a facsimile fountain atop it. It’s splended and beautiful. The couple are served first as they smiles in delight. The doling out of servings takes some time as guests wait patiently for their turn and the cake is pushed on a cart from chair to chair. 
When it comes your turn, your name rises over the crowd. You sit up and glance over, relieved at least not to watch the layers of custard and cake hit your plate. Lord Rogers has his hand on the back of his wife’s chair. 
“And how do you like the dessert? I believe you’ve been saving space for it all day, eh?” He chirps. 
You angle your head in confusion. You look down then at Odinson who sits a little taller as he leans forward. 
“You’ve hardly indulged, so I hope you might show your support and delight in this delectable dessert,” Rogers taunts. “A wedding is no place for a sour face.” 
Your lips part. You’re stunned. How could he be so bold as to call you out? Among all his guests and he must torment you. Was one night not enough. Your whole life as his violation thrives within your womb. Lord Odinson subtly touches your elbows. 
“I am most happy for you and my sister,” you rebuff, “and you are correct, I’ve been in much anticipation for dessert.” 
You take your fork and scoop up a heaping mouthful. You smile at it even as your insides rage. You make yourself taste it. It’s so sweet and smooth and wonderful, but your stomach mulches as if it is rubbish. Your cheeks tremble and you swallow, nearly gagging. 
“To you, sir, and my sister, Cora, I wish a happy marriage,” you force out as you hide your mouth behind a handkerchief. 
“To the happy couple,” Lord Odinson raises his glass and the table erupts, at once, the attention shifted back to them. 
You brace his arm and squeeze. You fight but you cannot withhold the uproar within. You stand and rush away, frantically searching for somewhere to hide and spew your guts. 
💟
The days overcome your doubts. The weeks come with more affectations; your sickness ebbs and flows and the temperature feels at times hotter then colder, swaying back forth, while some moments you spend with a throbbing head and pulsing feet. The most obvious symptom of your condition is the tightness of your stay. Soon, you will be showing more than you like, but for now, loosened laces can ease your discomfort. 
Your wedding day fast approaches. Time does seem to defy any human whim. You wish it would slow so you could catch your breath. Much like your husband-to-be who has yet to falter in his affections. 
You sit before the mirror with the grown of silver petals in your lap. There is one still bent from Cora’s envy but you will keep it to the back of your head. You will wear it as proudly as that night Lord Odinson gifted it to you. You hope for the day you might both forget all else. 
If it is to be. If he is at the altar waiting still. 
Albina and Hannah take the crown from you and secure it among your styled locks. Albina smiles at your reflection as Hannah jabs you with a pin. You nervously wring your hands as you admire the lavender shade of your gown. You wish you’d had more of it, that you hadn’t needed to trim it in ivory to make up for your height. Still, it is beautiful and the nicest dress you’ve ever worn. 
“Are you nervous?” Albina asks. 
“Suppose,” you admit and lift your chin, “very, truly.” Though not for the reason she might think. 
“Lord Odinson is kind. He should be gentle,” Hannah says. 
Your cheeks tinge at her suggestion, “sister.” 
“Well, it is what we are all thinking, isn’t it?” She shrugs. 
“I hope I do not find a husband so soon,” Albina adds, “I would like to enjoy my books a little longer.” 
“You might take on the spinster’s mantel then,” Hannah snipes. 
“It shouldn’t be so bad,” you murmur. “Every woman must do it. Eventually. It cannot be so horrible.” 
You lower your head again, trying to hide the emotion battling in your chest. It was bad, that first time. Lord Rogers hadn’t been kind at all. Would Lord Odinson be any different? For Rogers seemed kind at first glance only to be cruel upon touch. 
What if you husband did not want to meet his duty? What if he could not knowing you had lain with another? You would not blame him and without consummation, he might still turn you away. 
“Cora said it was more painful than anything she’s ever felt,” Hannah undercuts your dread. “Though she still loves her husband well.” 
“You shouldn’t speak of that,” you gird. 
“Why not? Won’t you tell us how it is so we may be ready?” She challenges. 
“I... I... It’s rather strange to speak of it.” 
“You are strange,” Hannah retorts with a huff. 
“But pretty,” Albina chimes, “look at you, sissie. You truly look like a queen in that crown.” 
You meet the gaze of your reflection. You do look better than you ever have before. You wonder if they notice the new fullness in your cheeks. If they do, they don’t mention it. You take a deep breath. 
“I shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer,” you stand.  
If you wait any longer, you might lose your nerve. 
The bishop waits in the grand hall of Nine Pillars as you emerge from the rooms allotted for your preparations. The crowd stands among the columns and hushes as you appear at the end of the hall. You face the clergy man and for an instant, your heart dangles precariously, ready to plummet.  
Where is Lord Odinson? 
His golden head pops up beside the bishop and he fixes the flower tucked into his lapel. His long blond hair is draw back as a scarlet bow holds it back, its ears peeking out behind his nape. He is smiling as he pauses and his eyes meet yours across the space. 
You can see even from there how his features slacken and for a moment, you are breathless. He looks as stricken. You put one foot down and let your long legs carry you. 
All your doubts float away. The faces around you haze together and the world crumbles to dust. It's only you and that man.  
💟
The ceremony gives way to a soiree, bodies clustered together, partners dancing, and you among them. Your husband, a husband, has your hand in his as he leads you in the steps. This man, this wonderful forgiving man you vowed yourself too nearly sweeps you off your feet, a sensation you've never known before. 
Your cheer blooms from you as his cheeks flush in his excess. He barely pauses to receive kind words from his guest. His elation is contagious. It gives no way to your fears. 
"Do you know what I thought upon the altar, beautiful valkyrie," he purrs, "I nearly fell upon my knees even." 
"What?" You smile, glowing up at him. 
"That the gods did bless me. That you must be sent from them, a gift to me, mere mortal." 
You can't help but pat his chest, "you flatter." 
"You are too modest," he guides you along, "you are a statue come too life, art in the flesh." 
"My husband... you words are too sweet." 
"I know, I know, the wedding night is still ahead of us, I do run too fast," he chuckles, "but how can I help the anticipation? 
Your lashes flick and giggle, "husband." 
"That word has never sounded sweeter," he grins, "but a sweeter noise might be my own name. Say it for me, valkyrie." 
Your cheeks burn hot, "Thor?" 
"Delicious," he growls nearly baring his teeth, "and I shall savour every sound you make. Every moan and mewl. Every breath and laugh. Just as every part of you." 
It's too good to be true. You deign to let yourself feel it all but you must. If even only for tonight. If only for the next moment. You will have a morsel of happiness if it's all you have to chew on for the rest of your life. 
💟
The night wears on and so do you. Your feet ache, as does most of you, and your voice is raw from laughing and talking. It is the first that you ever spent an event not along the wall or hiding in some shadow. It is a night all your own, or so your husband has made it feel. 
Yet, he does not tire. Not as quickly. As he booms and bawls to the amusement of all, you cling to his arm and repress a yawn. You will not spoil his fun, you will persist. 
Still, you cannot ignore all urges of your humanity. You press a hand to his sleeve and excuse yourself, promising to return. Your husband pauses to bid you not be long and you're further abashed at his attention. 
You flit off to find the privy. You've been several times over the day. Your bladder swells no matter how little you drink. As you progress, you find your body is contradictory to your mind. 
You venture down the corridor and sweep into the room. Once relieved, you emerge feeling lighter but no less tired. The silent desolation of the corridor rather makes your exhaustion all the more potent. 
You turn towards the statue of a warrior, you recognise it, it is the means by which you've found your way. Before you can pass it, a figure appears from behind it and you falter in your slippers. 
You gasp and ball your hands, the man before you sending a ripple of horror through you as he smirks at your surprise. Lord Rogers' cheek dimples as he quorks his head like a cynical crow. 
"You are ever a creature of urges," he muses, "fluttering back and forth as a skittish bird." 
"My lord, I... what is the meaning--" 
"I'm afraid we've not had much of a chance to speak, have we? The blushing bride is much a titter," he chortles, "she has the gull to giggle like a maiden, even." 
"Lord Rogers," you utter, appalled. 
"But the sway of her hips do betray her true nature. That which is within her," he sneers, "as does the curdling of her face over any dish that tickles her nose." 
"Sir, I know not what you mean--" 
"I should laugh truly, to know that another will raise my bastard," he taunts, "that it is him, does entertain me more." He takes a step forward and you back, "so you will be certain to lay with him this night so he may believe he has vigour." He grabs your arms before you can elude him, "you will think of me, won't you, Athena, my fallen goddess? Of how I desecrated your--" 
Suddenly, you are staggered. Lord Rogers is swung backward and flung into the statue. There's a roar, tha same noise you would expect of a charging bear, and the flash of scarlet. You watch paralysed as Thor grabs Lord Rogers by his jacket and spins him, throwing him into the other wall. 
The smaller of the men, though they are both built well, slides to one knee, his hand on the plaster. The other is quick, wasting not a second before aims a foot into Rogers' stomach. The duke falls backward and is at once straddled beneath the larger. 
Thor lays blows upon the other man, hailing down on him like the tempest he claims himself. Your fear overflows and you push through the thick waves. You come forward numbly and pull your husband by the back of his collar.  
"Please sir, unhand him." 
"You would defend this animal!" He wails down another fist and growls. 
"No, no, I would not spare him but I would... I would have my husband not take me to my wedding night with bloodied knuckles. Thor," you pet the back of his head, "let this be a happy day. Please." 
He sits back on his heels and puffs out. He looks back at you as you step away. You put your hand to your middle.  
"Husband?" 
He snarls and spits on Lord Rogers, standing with a huff. You reach for his hand and he takes it. He squeezes as he sends one last kick of his toe to the man on the floor. 
"Let me save my strength for you, wife. I certainly would need it." 
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