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princesssmars · 14 days

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desert eagle

another rodeo!abby x reader | p.i

seeing the star of the rodeo secretly in the night has been fun, but things start to get tense from miscommunication. but it’s amateur bull night down at the cow belle, and you’ve still got a few tricks up your sleeve.

wc : 2.619

contains : fluff. reader is hard headed. jealousy? fxf smut. strap on sorry to the people sick of it </3

a/n : you thought it was over ahaaaaa. wdym part one was in APRIL i suck at this. why are all of the desert eagle position pictures slightly different its pissing me off.

truly, everything currently going wrong was all abby anderson's fault.

it's a humid saturday night at the cow belle, and you're pouting while nursing a beer as your friends chatter around you. they'd taken you out to your favorite spot to try to brighten your spirits after noticing your sour mood, hoping some alcohol, dancing, and flirting would fix you right up.

but it was hopeless, for a dark cloud seemed to be hanging over your head the whole night. an annoying, sweet-talking, six-foot, blonde braided cloud.

it was established after your first extremely hot and extremely long night together with abby a few weeks ago that you both had an understanding. no strings, no attachments, no labels. you weren't gonna let a big beautiful woman butter you up only to leave you in a ditch, not after the last time. you'd go to the other's house, have rough messy sex, and maybe have some nice conversation, before heading your own way and repeating it the next week. no more and no less.

but god, you should've known it wouldn't last. ever since that first night when her silky smooth drawl convinced you to stay just a bit longer, to sleep in her bed with her shirt on! you might as well have woken up and cooked her breakfast in bed with a 'good morning, honey.'

who could blame you really? ever since you'd set eyes on abby anderson you knew she was something else, a beautiful force of nature that wouldn't budge until she wrecked you so thoroughly. at the time you were as horny as a coyote in may and saw that as just what you needed, a prized golden notch on your belt. a completely different way from what you do now.

right now you were trying to telepathically burn holes into the back of her beautiful head as she flirted with that hussy donna mayfair, an admittedly gorgeous girl with a big personality, big hair, and big...well, y'know. you look down at your chest and slightly straighten your back before roughly shaking your head after realizing this damn woman has you comparing yourself to a mayfair! of all people! the thought only upsets you more and you down the nearest drink to you, ignoring your friend's whine at the loss of her whiskey.

the small and reasonable part of your brain knows you have no right to be upset. after all, it was you who just a week ago insisted to a blushing abby that you truly did want to just keep things casual. you felt bad a little bit, she'd shown up to your hookup flushed and high off of another rodeo win with a tiny bouquet of your favorite flowers, explaining when you asked how she knew that she noticed them on the motif of your favorite pair of figure-hugging jeans. the bastard.

the relaxed but downcast look she wore after your rejection is a stark contrast to how she looks now, pearly whites showing when she throws her head back at some joke donna told, a large hand coming to rest on the redhead's waist. you can see her preening, foot nearly popping up as she swoons over the female goliath giving her all of her attention. it's enough to make you throw up. or maybe it was drinking all that busch light. whatever.

you must not have been very discreet with your glances because suddenly blue eyes are lifting up and focusing on yours, the shock of being caught forcing you still as your finger circles the rim of your next glass. you try to keep normal 'we're two normal people and definitely not recently gone sour fuck buddies' eye contact, but your body betrays you when your eyes flick down to her hand still on donna's waist. when you look at her again the corner of her lip is quirked up, never looking away as she pulls the redhead in closer and whispers something in her ear, the girl visibly going weak in the knees while abby licks her lips-

"well slap my ass and call me sally, come over here hon!" your darling charlize breaks you out of your..whatever that was and picks you up from your stool to drag you over to the event area, a few people drinking while gathered around the brand new bucking machine as one of the bar hands tinkers with the controls.

"what about it char, 'm really not in the mood..."

"oh don't be such a sourpuss, jus look at this!" she gently grips your chin and tilts your head to a nearby wall, a small white poster detailing a month-long mechanical bull contest as soon as the thing was completed, and each winner would get free drinks and $500 cash prize.

"jeez, since when did the belle bring in bucks like that?"

"doesn't matter. in one weeks time you're gonna put on a hot little outfit and win us those free drinks. and hopefully the cash takes your mind off of your situationship."

"oh yeah? and what makes you think I'm gonna be the one to win?"

"honey, ive seen the most hardass women look at you like well-trained pups. you've gotta be the best ride i know.”

so a week later you’re back in the same spot, hair pulled up and donned in your cropped and tied plaid shirt and your cutest pair of daisy dukes as you wrote your name down on the sheet of others trying to win the prize.

your friends are gathered around you, ever the voices of support as they fuss over you and give you words of encouragement. and while you do smile and laugh with them you can’t help from occasionally looking at abby, back with donna as her group hangs around the edge of the bull area.

“y’know i’ve never heard of someone bagging a hot ass woman, rejecting a relationship with said woman, and then pining over and trying to make that same woman jealous.” savannah fixes your hair while judging you, making sure it won’t get in your face so you can see what you’re doing while up there.

“stop questioning me, i’ve already been doing that myself.” your mumble makes the girls laugh before one of the workers comes to tell you that you’re up after the next person. you give them a nod before walking over to the small gate that leads to the bill, right next to-

“hey, looks like our little buckle bunny is gonna ride an actual bull! make sure to give us a nice show, huh bonita?”

you can’t help but smile when manny comes up beside you to throw an arm over your shoulder, nudging your body with his. the rest of his friends are here of course, including she who shall not be named with her new beau at her side.

“you’re gonna ride the new bull? well i hope you know what you’re doing, don’t want you to end up getting hurt now.” donna asks, grasping your hand in hers with a genuinely worried look on her face. damn it, now you were starting to feel bad.

“now don’t you worry, hon. i’ve got quite a bit of experience in riding.” you throw a wink her way before looking at abby next to her, not noticing the flustered look on donna when all you can do is revel in how you caught abby staring at your exposed stomach. before you can try to tease her about it your name is being called up and you're heading into the pit.

you graciously accept one of the workers' help to get you up on the bull, ignoring some of the catcalls that ring out when your shorts ride up an inch or two. you make sure to do everything you've seen others do (and maybe you watched a certain someone's videos to prepare yourself), steadying your dominant hand on the saddle while your free hand is raised above your head.

the experience is fast and hard just like you like it, the bull spinning and bucking so fast its almost enough to make you dizzy. as much as the cheers of fellow patrons make you want to look up and revel in it, you know you need to watch the bulls head to prepare for each time it turns, thighs tightly squeezing its sides. it's only when you hear the timer start to count down from ten that you look at everyone again, blowing a quick kiss to the blonde that's staring you down.

once the machine stops moving you are helped off and guided back to your incredibly loud friends, all happy to hype you up and start planning how much of the expensive high shelf drinks they wanna get. when you're announced as the winner only a few minutes later the night quickly becomes one filled with dancing and laughter.

you wave goodbye to your friends as their truck speeds away from your street, blowing you kisses as they yell for you to have a good night's sleep. you can't help but smile as you place your bag down in your kitchen, ready to wash the sweat from dancing off your body before sleeping through the night. unfortunately, some absolute boar decided now would be a good time to come knocking at your door."

"alright alright, im comin'!" your shouts do nothing to dissuade the steady banging against your door, nearly slipping on your hardwood floors as you rush to undo the locks and see who it is. "i really hope i owe you some money or else i'll"

"or else you'll what?" the sound of abbys voice makes you freeze, the woman resting against the doorway with one hand in her pocket and the other above your head. you need to blink away your surprise at not only her being here but the fact she is now only a few inches from you, close enough that you can smell her signature scent of pine-

"can i come in? or are you gonna keep teasing me like you did at the bar?"

"i did no such thing, you must have me confused with one of your many other flings." you flippantly address her as you turn around back into your home, hearing her quickly trail behind you and lock your door.

"ohh you'd like that, wouldn't you? gives you a reason to be so difficult for no damn reason."

you ignore her words as you head into your kitchen and retrieve yourself a glass from the cabinet, pouring yourself some water and downing it in a few gulps. jesus it's hot, is she hot? she doesn't seem so, minus the fact the sleeves of her shirt are rolled up and straining against her arms.

"no, i was in fact celebrating my win if you didn't notice. although I'm pretty sure you did, it'd be hard to miss my brilliant technique. maybe i can give you a few tips, i watched some of your shows and honestly hon, you're a bit sloppy."

you try to keep your tone cool while she moves closer and closer to you, eventually taking your empty glass and setting it down before placing both of her arms on either side of you, caging you into the counter, and blue eyes darting between yours and your lips while you speak.

"so you've been watchin my videos, huh? i'd invite you to actually come watch me, like I've already done before, but that would require you to stop ignoring me."

"you had donna mayfair to keep you company, i really doubt you noticed i was gone-"

she kisses you to shut you up, and you really wish you could've said you resisted her for long, that you didn't throw your arms around her neck and wrapped your legs around her waist as soon as she set her palms on your ass. you don't have the time to be embarrassed when shes carries you to your bedroom, removes your clothes before she does the same to her own, and reveals the strap she'd been wearing for who knows how long.

"yeah, not so mouthy now, are you?" abby smiles from above you, admiring how fast she's got you fucked out beneath her while you erratically lift your hips up to meet her short and shallow thrusts. the crooks of her elbows are helping to hold your legs in the air, your hands gripping your thighs to help give her easier access as she pounds into you.

"ab's, fuck, please."

"please what? use your words, beautiful."

"please, 'm sorry i won't ignore you again just- just do something, anything."

she puts on a sickly sweet lovestruck smile, and whispers a small 'god, you're lucky you're cute," before starting to fuck you exactly how she knows you like it. it's fast and hard, yes, but there's a hint of something more in the way she stares at you, how you lift your head for a kiss and she gives it to you without a second thought.

your hands start to claw at her waist, gripping the muscle to try to bring her impossibly closer every time her hips meet yours and her strap presses into that spot that makes your eyes damn near cross.

before you know it your orgasm is creeping up fast, unable to say it but of course, abby can tell regardless, how the resistance between your legs steadily increases and how your moans turn into desperate little whimpers.

"c'mon, you can do it. cum for me sweet girl."

all you can do is shake in her arms like a petal on a leaf, moaning and mewling up to the high heavens as abby pushes you through your orgasm, not stopping her thrusts until you weakly push at her arms to signal her to stop.

you fade in and out of consciousness while she takes care of you, the feeling of a rag cleaning your skin and more water being guided to your mouth all seeming to happen in a few seconds. when she finishes you blink your eyes open at her, admiring just how pretty she always seems to look after taking away your ability to walk.

you stare at each other for a moment, her palm coming to fix a few stray hairs on your face before you reach up to grab it and pull her into bed beside you. you pull the covers above the both of you, ignoring her raised eyebrows and know it all smirk.

"well, im not rude enough to send you home after all of that. might as well make yourself comfortable."

she chuckles, reaching over to turn off your bedside lamp before cuddling you from behind, her soft skin like its own blanket against yours.

"whatever you say, bunny."

when you wake up in the morning it's from the gentle rays of the sun peeking through your curtain and into your eyes, the smell of coffee and bacon quickly filling your nostrils when you notice your...partner, isn't in bed with you.

quickly throwing on a robe and padding your way into the kitchen, you can't help the warm feeling that grows inside of you at a shirtless abby pouring two cups of coffee while two plates of a small breakfast are already plated on your table.

you come up behind her and wrap your arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her shoulder when she slightly jumps at the surprise.

"mmm let me guess, you remember how i like my coffee too?"

"i'll remember whatever you want me to, sweet thing."

and right about now that didnt sound too bad.

#rodeo!abby #buckle bunny!reader #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby #tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n

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jetblack4realz · 12 days

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prove you right - jake "hangman" seresin x reader

summary - you and jake are both toxic exes and it doesn't help that you're supposed to run a mission together

warnings - angst and toxicity ig

word count - 2.6k

i can't decide if i like this or not, ending could be better, but i hope you guys like it anyways!

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you laughed as you skipped in a circle, arm looped in phoenix's. your feet occasionally slipped in the sand, your other hand holding a bottle of beer high in the air. laughter surrounded the two of you as you giggled, the fire behind you flickering in stark contrast to the dark, star-filled skies of the beach.

you suddenly gasped, stopping your movements and causing phoenix to stumble into you.

"what?" she asked, brows furrowed.

"let's burn something," you said, nodding quickly.

"red, what?" coyote asked with a laugh. "what are you burning?"

"i have just the thing."

your smile was almost devious as you ran as best you could back up to your truck. you pulled the small slip of glossed paper from where it was tucked in the shade mirror, turning too quickly to run back to your friends and blinking fast to get the spinning world to stop. rooster came up to you then, grabbing you arm gently and beginning to walk with you back to the fire.

"i'm gonna grab you a water," he told you, handing you off to bob as you waved your paper proudly. he turned to head back to the hard deck, only a bit down the shore, and coyote was the first to ask.

"what is it?"

you held it up for all to see, hand behind it like you were some beauty influencer. your grin was twisted as you explained in a slow, sing-songy manner, "oh, just the good ole days."

it was a picture of you and jake in the parking lot of the hard deck, you placing his cowboy hat on his head with a smile as he stared down at you. you couldn't even remember (especially in the intoxicated state you found yourself in now) who had taken it or what you were doing that night, but it was your favorite candid of you two.

"y/n, don't." natasha seemed to have sobered a bit, her brows knitted deeply at the sight of the photograph. "you'll regret it in the morning."

"i have rights!" you hummed, jutting your chin out defensively. "i am a broken-hearted woman. i will not regret this."

"yes, you will," bob advised, pulling you gently to sit down next to him. "no offense, but you're not an intelligent drunk, red. you've already done some things tonight you won't be happy about tomorrow."

phoenix took it upon herself to steal the picture from your hands, earning a yelp of, "hey!"

"you're not burning this," she told you, her brows raised as though she was daring you to try and take it from her. "you're not even broken up yet, are you?"

a glare rested over your features as you blew out a frustrated breath. rooster approached again, a bottle of water in hand and his brows knitted in question at the sight of phoenix with a picture of you and hangman. he offered the water to you and you took it, reluctantly chugging a few swallows down.

your eyes flashed back to where he'd come from, and you could see jake through the window. he was leaning against the jukebox, thumb messing with one of the buttons as a pretty, extremely skinny brunette who looked like a literal victoria's secret model approached him with a sly smirk on her perfect pink lips.

you took another swig of your water, glaring straight forwards as you lowered it from your mouth and swallowed. "i guess that's up to him now."

"what the hell is he doing?" payback asked, brows furrowed as they all stared into the bar window.

"the same thing he always does," you told him, glancing back for a moment before your voice lowered. "screwing with me."

bob, the sweetheart he is, noticed as soon as your eyes began to well with tears, offering you his shoulder. you offered him a small smile, but shook your head, wiping at your eyes aggressively.

you stood up, shaking out your hands in an attempt to calm the buzz throughout your whole body. everyone's eyes were on you, watching your mood swing back and forth between anger and sadness and carelessness, mindless words spilling from your lips. they were used to you drunk, this is just how you were. it was funny a lot of the time. but, they'd never seen you heartbroken and drunk - and none of them knew what to do with it.

"y/n?" phoenix tried. "what even happened?"

your attention snapped to her quickly and you stopped whatever rant you'd started about how he never bought the right kind of milk anyways so it was fine that he didn't shop for you anymore.

"what happened?" you asked, furrowing your brows. "he didn't tell you?"

"doesn't wanna talk about it at all," coyote said with a concerned knit of his brows. "just that you were still together, just barely."

you laughed dryly. "that's an understatement."

"did he cheat?" rooster asked, always one to get to the point. he nodded his head to the window. "like that?"

the girl had leaned closer to him, her hand on his arm as she giggled about something. he wasn't paying her any mind, saying a few short phrases to her that you couldn't read, but she wasn't moving. and when she leaned closer, her lips by his ear, you stormed towards the door, chucking you bottle into the sand.

"red!"

"y/n!"

"shit," bradley mumbled as they all began following you to the bar, fanboy and coyote stomping out the fire and spilling the rest of your water onto the coals before running after them.

you weren't quiet when you threw open the door, but given that it was 1am, music was blasting, and 90% of the bar was almost blackout drunk no one seemed to care.

"jacob henry seresin!" you barked.

his eyebrows shot halfway up his hairline as his eyes shot to the door where you entered, a fire in your eyes he wasn't too familiar with.

"hangman," the brunette said, a bit of a question in her tone as she eyed you.

when you reached them, your insecurities called out: this girl was easily at least 4 inches taller than you, with thinner legs, unblemished skin with no sign of a sunburn from training that day, long, healthy hair, and even you had to admit that she looked good in her tank top and shorts, whereas you had scars dotting your hands from mechanical work and unfortunate vegetable disasters that jake had had to clean you up from, a pink sunburn across your cheeks and exposed shoulders that had luckily lightened from the dark red the week before, and the muscle you'd worked so hard for felt too bulky on your body.

you remembered vaguely phoenix telling you that you looked hot when you walked in tonight, a pair of nice fitting jeans, the cowgirl boots jake had bought you for you birthday last year, and a black tank top. for a moment you wondered if jake thought you looked hot. then you remembered a few weeks ago when you wore this same getup and you weren't wondering anymore.

jake removed himself from her, hands reaching out for you, but you stepped away. you offered the girl a sickly sweet smile, crossing your arms over your chest as he took a step behind you, eyes on the side of your face.

"i hate to break it to ya honey, but you ain't going home with him tonight," you said, your voice still awfully loud as her eyes narrowed at you.

"and how would you know that?" she asked.

"i'm his girl, darlin'," you said. "he doesn't need a knock off skipper barbie doll."

"you ever think he might be better off with one?"

"there isn't a chance in hell that he is!"

"y/n," jake mumbled in your ear, hand on your wrist to catch your attention. "people are looking. nothing was going to happen."

"how about you ask him?" the brunette taunted, eyes on the aviator next to you.

"don't need to. he doesn't sleep with girls like you."

"and yet he sleeps with a slut like you."

no one on the team had ever seen you glare at someone so viciously before and it kind of scared them. your little situation had caught penny's attention who waved bradley over to her, asking him quickly what was happening.

"what did you say?" your volume was high, your were nearly shouting as you took a step towards her. she leaned closer, looking down at you with a stupid smirk.

"how could he be with a slut like you and not want me instead?"

maverick was constantly getting after you and bradley to "not think, just do", something you were slowly getting better at. but, with a few whiskeys in your system and a boatload of unrelenting anger, you were an expert at the concept.

your fist flew into her mouth in an instant, gasps filling the room around you. jake and coyote grabbed your arms, dragging you backwards as phoenix stood in front of the girl, mumbling something about bleeding.

"say it again!" you taunted as she stood straight again, her lip effectively busted and bleeding. her eyes were wide as she stared at you.

"you hit me!" she shrieked. "you're crazy!"

"crazy?" you asked, raising your brows. "i'll show you-"

"we're not doing this." jake dipped down quickly and grabbed you around the legs, tossing you over his shoulder and walking out the door payback was holding open for him.

"let go of me!" you yelled, pounding on his back. "put me down, jake!"

he let you hit him for the minute it took him to walk far enough down the beach that you couldn't really hear the music of the bar anymore.

"jake seresin, put me down!"

"y/n, stop!" he placed you back on your feet, but not gently. you stumbled back, jake catching your hand with a huff. "sorry."

"what the hell?!" you shouted, glaring at the man. "what the hell was that, jake?!"

you pushed his chest, but he caught your hands, brows furrowed tightly.

"what do you mean, 'what the hell'? i should be saying that to you!" he said. "what was that?"

"you were flirting with her."

"she was flirting with me."

"oh, and what difference does it make?"

"a lot of difference!" he defended, brows raised. "i wasn't flirting with her, i wasn't leaving with her, i wasn't even giving her any attention and you still went and punched her! what is happening with you? first you start playing these weird, rager breakup songs on the speakers and then i find you sexy dancing with some random guy, and now this! what is happening? you're acting crazy!"

"crazy?" you asked, pulling away from him quickly and ripping your hands from his. "crazy?! who the hell do you think you are?"

"y/n-"

"no, no! if you say i'm crazy, fine. that's fine. i'll prove you right, take it way too far. all i gotta do is blame it on the broken heart that you gave me, tell everyone what the hell you did and they'll take my side."

"tell them what i did?"

"that you cheated one me!" you cried, stepping away from him with your arms in the air. tears quickly filled your eyes. "you did! you cheated on me, jake, you made out with another girl!"

"i was blackout drunk, i thought she was you!" he yelled back. "i didn't know what i was doing! she even said so! i kept saying 'y/n, y/n, y/n' over and over and i guess she thought you were an ex or something?"

"maybe i should be," you said, standing straighter. his face fell. "i can't do this with you again, jake."

"i'm not lying to you, it meant nothing. it wasn't supposed to happen, i was just drunk out of my mind and it was kyle's bachelor and-"

"jake, i know. you told me," you said strictly. "but that doesn't change what happened. i get you didn't know what you were doing, but jake... you should've never put yourself in the position for that to be a possibility. i need you to know your limits. blackout drunk is dangerous, in more ways than just you screwed up your relationship."

"i know. i know, and i'm sorry," he said, seeming genuinely apologetic. he stepped forward, taking your hands in his. "it'll never happen again."

"i know. it won't," you agreed, stepping away and slipping your hands from his. his face fell.

"no. don't do this. y/n it was one mistake, one mistake in two years, please," he tried.

"you broke my heart, jake," you reminded.

"i know and it kills me to know that i did that to you," he said, stepping towards you again. his brows were knitted deeply and it almost looked like he was going to start crying.

"you broke my heart."

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry baby." his voice cracked and you risked looking up at him, seeing the completely shattered expression.

a silence fell over you for a few moments as you thought over your next words.

"do you know why my callsign is red?" you asked, tone back to normal as he peered at you carefully.

"little red riding hood."

"and what's special about her?"

he hesitated. "i don't know. her grandma was a wolf."

"she believed a wolf was her grandma. she got tricked by a wolf. she was gullible. my callsign is red because i was gullible in flight school and my friends teased me about it," you said. a watery smile pulled at your lips as you shook your head. "i didn't think i was gullible anymore, jake."

"you're not," he promised. "you're not. i'm done. i'm done. i'll never drink that much again, i'll only drink with you, i'll do whatever the hell you want me to do, okay? because i love you. i love you with my whole damn heart and if you leave i don't know what the hell i would do with myself."

"jake-"

"please." it came out as a desperate whisper and when you looked up into his beautiful green eyes, you felt all of your walls break down again. he had that way with you. you hated it.

just as you went to respond, you felt something brush across your boot. you looked down to see your photograph trying to blow across the toe of the boot, getting caught on the sand surrounding it. you leaned down and picked it up, eying it carefully.

you looked back up at jake, fingers reaching to adjust the cowboy hat on his head.

"you're damn lucky you wore this hat today," you mumbled.

he didn't say anything, instead opting to grab your face with both hands and drag you into a long, passionate, slightly salty kiss.

"i'm so sorry," he whispered, kissing you again, and again, and again. "i'm so sorry, darlin'."

"you will never get close to doing something like that again," you told him, hands gripping the front of his shoulders as you stared into his emeralds.

"never," he promised, kissing your lips softly and slowly. "you're the only girl i'm ever kissing again. i'm so sorry baby. i love you so much."

you kissed him again before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into the tightest embrace you'd ever felt him give, his arms wound tightly around your waist.

"i love you too."

#top gun maverick #glen powell #glen powell x reader #glen powell x y/n #hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin

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sleekervae · 4 months

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The Bride [0.1]

Masterlist

Pairing: billy the kid x fem!reader

Summary: While out riding, Billy is stunned to come upon a young woman in a wedding gown begging for help. Without a second thought he comes to her aid and takes her back to town. Little does he know that rescuing this young bride will bring him more trouble than he bargained for.

Warnings: foul language, mentions of arranged marriage

Word Count: 4,946

The horse's hooves kicked up dust as he traversed the rugged terrain, the only sound breaking the stillness of the evening. Tall grasses swayed gently in the breeze, and the distant call of a lone coyote echoed through the vast expanse.

Billy's gaze swept over the horizon, taking in the breathtaking beauty of the untouched land. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the deep greens and browns of the earth below.

As boy and horse continued on their journey, the only companion the vastness of the frontier, Billy couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the raw, untamed beauty of the land. The western frontier was a place of mystery and adventure, where danger lurked around every corner, but for now, it was a place of peace and tranquility, a sanctuary in the midst of chaos.

Though perhaps he thought too soon when he caught sight of what at he at first thought was a ghost. But ghosts didn't trip, nor did they cuss between shouts for help. At least, Billy didn't think so. Though the closer he came to the ghost, the more he came to realize there was nothing supernatural about them.

It was a woman, young and fair, her once pristine wedding gown now stained and torn, her face etched with frustration and desperation. She stumbled forward, one hand gripping the layers to her skirt while her other arm frantically waved him down.

"Hey! Hey, can you help me?" despite her appearance, her voice was direct, unshaken.

"What in the hell happened to you?" Billy couldn't help it, the words slipped out before he had a moment to process.

The bride stood before him now and he could have a better look at her. She was slender and small, her figure striking against the backdrop of the tall grass. Her long brown hair, once carefully styled in a bridal updo, now cascaded around her shoulders in a messy tangle, strands framing her face in a wild halo. Despite the disarray, her hair shimmered in the fading light, catching the last rays of the setting sun.

Her wedding gown, once a symbol of joy and celebration, was now stained and torn, the fabric clinging to her form in a way that spoke of hardship and struggle. Despite the wear and tear, the gown still held a sense of elegance, the intricate lace and delicate embroidery standing out against the rugged backdrop of the wilderness.

Her gaze locked with the Billy's, though oddly enough the resilience he saw in her face struck him anew. She didn't appear as a desperate, lost and helpless bride.

"It's a long, fuckin' story," she grumbled, dropping her skirt in a huff, "Where you comin' from?"

"Santa Fe,"

"Mind if I ride back with you?"

Billy took a look around, in the back of his mind he was worried that this girl may be luring him into some sort of trap. But he was out in the open, if someone was going to come out and ambush him, they would've done it by now. And something about the dirt and cuts on this girl told him she wasn't faking it.

"Look, if I had any money to offer, I would --"

"Sure thing," he offered her his hand, to which she took gratefully. She hooked her heeled boot into the stirrup and pulled herself up behind Billy. The horse snuffled and shifted to regain her balance under the added weight, and with a hard crack of the reigns, Billy and the bride clung on as the horse galloped through the tall grass.

Dusk began to close in, casting long shadows across the landscape as they rode back to Santa Fe. The fading light painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows that enveloped the land.

The bride remained silent most of the way, making a couple grunts and huffs when they'd hit rougher terrain. Billy was ever the more curious.

"So, what did he do?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" the bride lifted her head.

"Your fella? Your husband or whatever. What did he do for you to ditch 'im at the altar?" he craned his head as best he could, meeting her gaze, "Or did you just get cold feet and bolt?"

The bride scoffed and gave her head a simple shake, "Call me crazy, but I'm not exactly eager to marry a man I barely met a month ago," she replied.

"I think that's pretty justified," he nodded, "So you left 'im?"

"Yes sir," she confirmed.

"Where did you run from?" he asked.

"Rosario,"

Billy paused in disbelief, " -- you... you came all the way from Rosario?"

"You sound surprised," she simpered.

Billy shook his head, "I don't mean to offend, ma'am, but how in the hell did you wander all the way here from Rosario in that fuckin' dress?"

"Simple answer is I had a horse," she replied casually, "Until he got spooked and ran off. But I knew there was a town this way so I was just sort of... praying for refuge. And I'm not even a catholic woman,"

"Well, I'm happy to oblige you," he turned back to her again, "What's your name?"

"... Eleanor," she drawled, "And what about you?"

"William. But friends and family call me Billy,"

Eleanor smirked, "So what would you rather I call you?"

"Whatever you feel like, Miss Eleanor," he grinned back.

"You can drop the 'miss'. Don't feel like much of a lady right now," she sighed.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked.

"Depends who you ask," she replied simply.

Billy shrugged, "Well, if you ask me -- I reckon you're a very beautiful lady, Eleanor"

Eleanor scoffed back, never the less her smile remained on her lips, "Thank you... Billy," He noticed the slight drawl in her tone, a thread of a southern accent that he found quite charming.

They soon trotted into town. Shops were just closing up for the day, camaraderie and chatter could be heard from within saloons and oil lamps were coming to life as dusk fell. A few stragglers turned and stared peculiarly at the pair, at Eleanor particularly. She knew she had to get changed, she stuck out like a sore thumb in that dress.

"My ma runs a boarding house here, you're more than welcome to stay if you like," Billy told her, "We'll get you fed, into some new clothes,"

Eleanor grinned sheepishly, "That's very kind of you, Billy, but I couldn't. I don't have money on me at the moment," she replied.

"Don't worry about the money right now, my ma will understand," and he turned to her, "We'll just get you back on your feet for the moment," he had such kind eyes, warm and soulful despite their crystalline shade of blue. He equally found her to be quite sweet in spite of her sharp tongue.

"Alright. I appreciate that," she nodded, "Sooner I can get out of this dress, the better I reckon,"

Billy smiled at her, "It's a might shame, it looks stunning on you,"

She stifled a chuckle, "Try not to cry too hard when you see me out of it,"

Billy brought Eleanor to the boarding house, where Kathleen welcomed her with open arms. Kathleen, ever the caretaker, was more than happy to assist the poor girl in her time of need. She offered Eleanor a blouse and a skirt to replace her tattered wedding dress, which was gently tucked away. Eleanor considered the dress; perhaps she could clean it up and sell it, a small act of independence in the midst of her turmoil.

"Have you got any money on you?" Kathleen asked.

Eleanor shook her head, "No ma'am, I'm very sorry," she replied.

Kathleen nodded, shooting a dubious look Billy's way. While she didn't mind helping, she was just making ends meet with her business and couldn't quite afford charity. Billy knew that. But she wasn't totally heartless, either.

"Can you clean?" she then asked.

"And cook," Eleanor volunteered.

Kathleen cracked a smile, "Well, I think we can have you work off your wages for a while,"

"I'd appreciate that very much," Eleanor smiled gratefully.

"Think nothing of it," Kathleen took her by the arm and started for the hall, "I'll show you where you'll be sleeping,"

Billy watched Eleanor vanish into the darkness with Kathleen, a smile playing on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes. Her fleeting, grateful look lingered in his mind, stirring a mix of emotions. Yet, as he pondered her sudden departure, a nagging inkling tugged at him, whispering doubts about her intentions. Rosario was a half a day's journey at least, and Billy couldn't help but wonder about Eleanor's lack of provisions. How desperate was she to leave, and was her escape merely temporary? Or was there something more nefarious she was running from?

In the early afternoon sun of Santa Fe, the bustling streets came alive with activity, the air filled with the sounds of hooves clattering against the dusty ground and the chatter of locals going about their day. The rickety, wooden buildings that lined the streets cast long shadows, providing a welcome respite from the intense heat. The scent of woodwork and cooking wafted through the streets, mingling with the earthy aroma of the desert.

Billy stepped into the kitchen of the boarding house, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and cornmeal mush filling the air. His eyes immediately sought out Eleanor, who stood at the stove, a look of concentration on her face as she mixed her batter with practiced ease. She looked happy and calm, a far cry from the distressed bride he had found not twenty-four hours ago.

Relief washed over him at the sight of her. Despite his lingering mistrust, he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in her presence. He approached her cautiously, keeping his guard up.

"Mornin'," he said, his voice soft but cautious.

She turned to him, a warm smile lighting up her face, "Good morning," she then glanced at the stove, "There's coffee made, if you'd like some,"

"Thank you," he went to fetch a cup off of the counter, "How did you sleep?"

"As well as expected, I suppose," she poured her batter into a pot, "Your mother's been awful kind to me, I hope to repay you all in kind soon,"

Billy studied her for a moment, searching for any hint of deception in her eyes. Finding none, he nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"You helping my ma is enough," he assured her, "It's hard to keep help around sometimes, so most days it's me and my brother helping out,"

Eleanor simpered, "I met Joe this morning, sweet kid. Your mother's very lucky to have you both," she said.

"Yeah," he leaned over the counter, the cup still clenched in his hand, "She's a good woman, I do everything I can to look after her,"

She cocked her head, "How old are you, Billy?"

"Seventeen,"

"Seventeen..." Eleanor echoed in awe, her voice soft with understanding, "And already you feel responsible for her, am I right?"

Billy was at first perplexed by her statement, but as he pondered her words, he began to recognize the weight of her insight.

"I suppose so," he replied with a shrug, his expression reflecting a mix of resignation and determination, "My... step-dad... hasn't been pulling in the money lately, so I do what I can to help. I don't want to let her down."

"I don't blame you," Eleanor nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "I wish my mother was like yours."

"What's your mother like?" Billy inquired.

Eleanor sighed deeply, her movements slow and deliberate as she stirred her cornmeal batter, "She was... there when she needed to be," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness, "Most times, though, she wasn't. She died about two years ago,"

Billy felt a pang of empathy. "I'm very sorry to hear that... My father died when I was twelve,"

Eleanor glanced at him, her eyes catching a glimpse of the vulnerability beneath his stoic exterior, "I'm so sorry. What happened to him?"

"He wasn't too well... up here," Billy tapped the side of his head lightly. "What about your mother?"

"Syphilis. Plain awful," Eleanor muttered bitterly. "How was your mother when he died?"

"She was heartsick, we all were. But she's strong, we pushed on because of her," Billy explained. "What about your father?"

"My father... wasn't the same. He never really recovered," she replied, her voice trailing off, "Suppose that's why he stuck me in that dress not a minute after I was eighteen," she added with a bitter laugh, though her eyes betrayed a mix of spite and sorrow.

Billy approached her slowly, "Well, must bring you some peace to get away. You don't have to go back to Rosario," he assured her.

Eleanor's bitter glare melted away, her soft smile slipping across her face again, "It does. And I appreciate all the help and kindness you've given me,"

Billy's gaze softened as he studied Eleanor, a flicker of something new and unexpected stirring within him. He had been wary of her, guarded against the possibility of deception. Yet, as he looked into her deep brown eyes, he saw only sincerity and a genuine desire to move forward.

"I'm glad to hear that, Eleanor. Truly," he said, his voice warm with sincerity. The smile that tugged at his lips was genuine, a reflection of the newfound respect and admiration he felt for her.

Eleanor was a bit rusty with the chores, but she was giving it her all. Billy didn't mind pitching in, whether it was collecting and folding bedsheets, chopping firewood, or even cleaning dishes alongside her.

Their time together was anything but dull. Billy learned a lot about Eleanor; her family was originally from France but came to America over seventy years ago. They lived in South Carolina for a while until the work dried up and they too decided to start over again in the West. It was tough trying to get more information about her family, how she grew up. Billy got the sense she didn't want to talk much about her childhood, so he eventually dropped it altogether.

Eleanor was equally curious about Billy—how he ended up in Santa Fe, his favorite foods, his card-playing skills. She mentioned her desire to learn poker, so Billy took it upon himself to teach her. With an old deck of cards, he patiently explained the game's ins and outs. Though Eleanor struggled with the rules at first, she improved with each hand, even if she did keep losing her peanuts to Billy.

Joe, despite his young age, joined in the card games, offering Eleanor pointers on improving her strategy. Whenever Billy scolded his brother, Joe would playfully stick out his tongue, which never failed to amuse Eleanor. She found herself growing fond of these boys, feeling comfortable and at ease in their company.

Their leisure time eventually gave way to preparing supper for the boarders. While their meal options were limited, Eleanor managed to whip up a simple yet tasty stew. Billy assisted, chopping vegetables carefully to avoid any mishaps. Despite his best efforts, he did slip once, cutting his finger. Eleanor immediately called for Joe to fetch bandages, insisting on wrapping Billy's wound to prevent any blood from getting into the stew.

"Ain't no way in hell you're getting any blood in my stew, Billy Antrim," Eleanor said, her sass bringing out her southern accent, which only added to her charm in Billy's eyes. He found himself increasingly drawn to her, finding her both amusing and captivating.

The day melted into evening, painting the sky in shades of indigo. Bright stars dotted the darkness, casting a serene backdrop for Billy and Eleanor. They sat on the roof outside his window, their conversation flowing effortlessly as if they were old friends. Eleanor felt a deep connection to Billy, as if she had known him forever. His gentle nature and warm charm were like a balm to her soul, familiar and comforting. She couldn't shake the feeling that she must've known him in another life.

"Up there's the Orion's Belt," Billy pointed to a cluster of stars above. Eleanor cocked a brow.

"That don't look like any belt to me," she simpered.

Billy chuckled back, "You can't look at it too critically. It's those three dots up there," he pointed again, "Orion was a great hunter who was eventually placed in the stars by Zeus after his death. And those three stars that make up his belt are called Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka,"

She looked to him, surprised yet intrigued at his knowledge of the cosmos, "How do you know all that?" she asked.

"An old man told me the stories, long ago," he shrugged back, "Stayed with me, I guess,"

Eleanor nodded, her gaze reluctantly leaving his captivating eyes to focus on the sky, "It's kind of romantic, isn't it? When we die, we become stars. Our stories live on forever," she mused.

"Yeah," Billy agreed, casting another glance her way, "It's pretty romantic."

She was sad when she realized the time, knew they both had to be up in the morning to do the day all over again. However, Eleanor couldn't find herself to be lethargic or annoyed. She was excited for what tomorrow would bring, a feeling she hadn't enjoyed in quite some time.

The next day was just like any other. Though this time Billy felt different; he had a little pep in his step. Sure, it wouldn't be noticeable if you didn't know him, or if you weren't paying attention. But Billy felt different, a good type of different. He could've chalked it down to the actual good night's sleep he got, the lack of commotion in the street this morning, or simply him noting how pretty Eleanor looked in the radiant morning sun while she was taking down the laundry.

Billy suddenly felt an arm fly around his shoulders, catching him off guard as he made his way to the saloon. It was his friend Carlos, his face lit up with mischief.

"Aye, Billy!" Carlos exclaimed, his voice merry, "You didn't tell me you were getting married! Felicidades!"

Billy chuckled, shaking his head as he removed Carlos' arm, "The hell are you going on about?" he asked, amused.

"The bride! Everyone's talking about her!" Carlos replied matter-of-factly, "Where did you pick her up?"

Billy sighed, rubbing his temples. "Out in the plains," he explained. "She wandered out from Rosario,"

Carlos stopped in his tracks, a look of bewilderment crossing his face, "You're kiddin'. That's half a day's trek!"

"That's what she told me, anyway," Billy said with a shrug, "I thought she was bait for a gang of rustlers or something, but she seems alright so far,"

"Right…" Carlos nodded slowly, falling back into step with Billy, "And how lucky for you, she's staying in your boarding house?"

Billy stifled a laugh. "Don't go around telling tall tales about me, now,"

"Me? Pfft, never," Carlos retorted, holding his head high.

As they continued down the street, the atmosphere of camaraderie began to fade as the sound of hooves thundered into town. The locals turned to see a group of men on horseback, dressed in infantry uniforms with shiny rifles slung across their backs. They were members of the U.S Army, and their arrival drew a curious and apprehensive gaze from the townspeople.

The town's sheriff stepped forward, hands plastered to his hips as he greeted the captain.

"Gentlemen, can I help you?" the sheriff asked.

"Why, yes you can," the captain drawled, dawning a thicker southern accent, "My boys and I have been riding since yesterday, we're looking for a young woman. She would have been wearing a wedding dress," he raised his hand to his knee, "'Bout five and a half feet tall, pretty brown eyes,"

"I see," the sheriff nodded, "This girl is your daughter?"

"My wife. Or... she was supposed to be," he chuckled bitterly, "Plain up and left me at the altar,"

Billy felt a lump in his throat, disbelief and disdain growing within him. This army captain was probably older then Henry Antrim. He sported a neatly trimmed mustache, reminiscent of those European settlers who often passed through, adding a touch of character to his otherwise disciplined appearance. His attire was completed with polished boots and a well-placed insignia on his cap, signifying his rank and authority.

There was no way, absolutely no way, that Eleanor was meant to marry this man. It was no wonder she had run away.

Carlos didn't need a second glance at Billy to understand his thoughts; he placed a calming hand on his shoulder. Billy stood with clenched fists, his rugged fingernails digging into his palms, his expression unwavering.

The sheriff adjusted his hat, scanning the crowd of locals, "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but I think I would've noticed a woman in a wedding dress running around in my town," he stated.

Billy started to relax slightly. Perhaps the captain hadn't seen him ride in with Eleanor? Perhaps he hadn't heard the gossip from the townspeople?

But luck was not on Billy's side. An older man approached, wiping sweat from his greying whiskers. "Hold on, Sheriff! I saw the older Antrim kid ride in with a girl in white the other day!" he exclaimed. "All dolled up and everything. She was kinda dirty, though."

"Is that so, Angus?" the sheriff inquired.

"Plum right! Old Taylor saw her too!" Angus affirmed, pointing to another old man on a storefront stoop, who nodded in agreement.

The sheriff gave a thoughtful hum, glancing back at the captain, who maintained a stiff, expectant smile. Turning to face Billy and Carlos under another awning, the sheriff's gaze was piercing, "Where's this girl, Billy?" he asked.

Billy was speechless, struggling to find the right words. He may not have been the best judge of character, but he liked Eleanor. And there was something about this captain that didn't sit right with him, the significant age gap being just one concern.

As Billy tried to form a response, a cry rang out from behind them. "Hey! Thief!" another local shouted, rushing into the street with a pitchfork in hand, "Sheriff! Some girl up and took off with my horse!"

"Which way did she go?"

"Towards the lake!"

In that moment, Billy knew he had to seize the opportunity. He made a quick decision and darted off to retrieve his own horse.

The moment that she heard the thundering horses ride into town, Eleanor knew she had to get out and get out fast. She didn't want to, but she had no other option than take the first horse she saw. She cracked the reigns hard, keeping her head down and focus sharp as she rode away under the blazing sun. She wasn't going back to her settlement, and she certainly wasn't going to be married.

Little did she know she had Billy hot on her trail. It didn't take long for him to catch up to her, spotting her as just a speck in the distance. He pushed his horse as hard as he could, at the same time trying to put together some sort of plan. He didn't want to let the captain have Eleanor, but he also felt she couldn't leave. Not at least without an explanation.

Billy was gaining fast, but not fast enough. On his hip he had his gun holster. He didn't shoot it very often, more often he used it as an intimidation tactic for when the boys at the saloon got a little out of hand. And by no means did he want to shoot Eleanor either, but he needed her to stop, just for a minute. He drew his gun and took aim, popping a shot off of her right. The bullet sliced through the earth and dirt ricocheted across the galloping horse. It stopped and reared up, nearly throwing the frightened Eleanor off its back.

When the horse came down Eleanor turned around, frantic and furious to find Billy was the one who shot at her.

"What the fuck!? Are you fucking crazy!?" she hollered as he approached, "You could've killed me!"

"Why didn't you say something?" he asked, not even caring to acknowledge his stunt.

"And what was I supposed to say, Billy?" she scoffed.

"That the U.S fucking army was going to be coming after you!" he snapped.

"Because you wouldn't have helped me!" she shouted back, "And don't pretend like you would've. Nobody wants to get in the way of the infantry!"

Billy shook his head, "Well, it might've been nice to know! We could've taken off this morning!"

"To where? Where could we go, Billy?" Eleanor asked, "We're barely fucking adults, and your mother needs you!"

"We can figure something out," he said, "Maybe I can talk to the sheriff? Maybe he can get the captain to see reason!"

Eleanor scoffed, "You know what I did in Rosario, Billy? I ran my father's books. When my mother died, and he lost his mind, I ran the whole damn ranch. I kept everything in top condition from the pay to the fucking cow feed!" she snapped, "And how do I get rewarded? With my father selling my dowry to the captain for protection from the Apache! I'm not gonna' watch a whole army decimate a people for no good reason, and I'm certainly not some little woman who's gonna sit around and be a good little wife!" she explained frantically.

"But Eleanor --"

"That man came all the way up here looking for me, he's not gonna' leave until he gets me. And it's safer for everyone in town if I disappear as quickly as I can. I'm sorry if you can't understand!"

Billy huffed, as much as it annoyed him he knew she was right. Having gone with her would paint a large target on both of their backs, and Billy couldn't bare to cause his mother any heartbreak like that. At the same time, he was scared for Eleanor, God only knew what she would face if she went out into the frontier by herself.

"I understand, Eleanor. I do," he nodded, "I just wish I could help you,"

Eleanor pulled her horse up beside his, coming to sit next to him, "You have done so much to help me, already. I'm so grateful to you, and your family. And I will repay you some day," she promised, "Hell, take that ugly old dress to the tailor, you might get something for it,"

Billy gave her a once over glance. She was still in the blouse and skirt Kathleen gave her, a single canteen of water was tied to the saddle. She wouldn't make it out there for long on her own, not with what she had. Without a second thought he shed his linen coat and dug into his pockets for whatever money he had on him.

"Take this," he placed the coat over her shoulders, "And this," and he handed her the money.

"Oh my God, I can't. Billy --" she tried to give the money back.

"Just take it," he assured her, "I don't know when you'll find the next town, but that should get you some food at least,"

Her chest began to ache, he'd shown her more kindness in the last two days than any man had in her lifetime. And she had a feeling he was just too stubborn to let her go without the money and coat. She looked to him reluctantly.

"... Are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm positive," he nodded, "You gotta' go. They're gonna be coming out here looking for the both of us, soon enough,"

Eleanor nodded, slipping the coat on properly and placing the money in the pocket, "Thank you, Billy -- for everything,"

He put on a brave smile, "Think nothing of it, Eleanor,"

She swore his smile was something she'd keep imprinted in her brain, a shred of comfort and happiness on the days where she may not find such. Without a word, she reached up, gently cupped his face, and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that was urgent yet tender, filled with gratitude and unspoken emotions. Billy was momentarily taken by surprise but responded instinctively, his hand cupping around her neck as he deepened the kiss, matching her intensity. He could feel the steady beat of her pulsing heart beneath his touch. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves their moment.

When they finally parted, Billy was momentarily taken aback by her actions. He held her gaze for a moment longer, silently conveying everything he couldn't put into words.

She took the reins again, and she gave him one last coy smile, "Try not to look so sad, Billy. I'll see you around," with that, she snapped the reigns and took off South.

Billy was conflicted, on the one hand he figured he could go after her. Go with her, see what kind of adventures they could find... maybe even kiss her again?

On the other hand he knew he couldn't never leave his mother and brother at the hands of Henry. So with a heavy heart, he waited until she was a speck in the distance before he started back for town.

As he approached, the infantry began to ride out. The captain approached him, his posture stiff and upright. "Well? Did you find her?" he asked.

Billy shook his head, masking his disdain, "She had too much of a head start," he replied.

"Dammit!" the captain cursed, scanning the horizon, "Well, which way did she go?"

Billy met his gaze, a steely resolve in his eyes, "North," he told him, "She was heading up North,"

"She's prolly' headin' to Colorado, Capt'n!" one the soldiers piped in.

The captain scoffed, "Well, that's where we're going. Let's move, boys!" and in a hurried stampede, they took off North. Billy let out a small sigh of relief, but the ache in his chest didn't cease. He could only pray to high heaven that Eleanor would be safe, and that maybe he'd see her again one day.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x female!reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney smut #william h bonney x you #william bonney #william bonney x reader #william bonney smut #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #original story #original female character #imagine blog

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delopsia · 7 months

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Coyote | Miles Miller x Reader

Word Count: 7,500 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+. AFAB!Reader, wolf! Reader, coyote! Miles (it's a werewolf AU with a twist), mentions of food PTSD and forced marriage, running away together, car sex, and overstimulation. No established time setting, so you can imagine this as a modern! AU or canon to when the movie took place :) Brief Summary: You've got no choice but to marry the son of a rivaling family in order to bring unity once and for all. But on the night before your dreaded wedding, Miles makes good on your wish to run away together.

This bed used to be comfortable.

Falling into it once felt like plummeting through the sky and being caught by a giant, fluffy cloud. Soft, delicately scented sheets, washed in a laundry detergent exclusively used for this room alone. One of the many perks of the honeymoon suite, alongside the extra space, pink interior, and a promise of complimentary, sweet drinks, so long as you took the time to visit the front desk and ask for them.

Your head lifts, craning to peer over your shoulder. The sleeping body that occupies your bed isn't the one that you're used to. Stiff. Not the snuggly presence that you've grown to associate with this mattress. His back has long since turned to you, growled snores rattling every last nerve you've got. And yet, you can't help but be thankful that he's not awake and looking at you.

Because then you'd be forced to confront the reality of this situation you've found yourself in.

Reluctant, your eyes flick to the dresser. It's usually up beneath the two-way mirror, but now, it has found itself awkwardly shoved into a vacant corner. If only the stark white wedding dress sitting on top of it had taken note and miraculously found its way into the dumpster. But like the gaudy ring sitting atop the bedside table, it hasn't moved an inch.

Come dawn, his nameless sisters will rush into the room and help shove you into it all. Dressing you in costume like one of their childhood dolls, powdering your face with extravagant makeup, and helping you into those too-high shoes that your future mother-in-law so stubbornly insisted you wear. As if walking down that aisle wasn't hard enough, to begin with.

It's cruel, truly.

Your feet are destined to walk a fine line between two families. To become the glue—no, the contract that will bind them together for the rest of eternity. A purpose that was placed upon your shoulders before they had even formed in the womb. Because a bunch of old men and women couldn't settle things like adults, crying about how its not the way your ancestors would have wanted it.

Werewolves. Stuck so far in the past that even modern history does not recognize them.

Up until recent, you'd found them all to be the same. Clinging to the shiny title of their ancestors, vying to establish themselves using the accomplishments of those before them. Stubbornly clinging to their old ways, fearing the concept of change more than the fangs of a hungry vampire.

You'd thought it when you were approached with the demand that you meet the son of the family that rivaled your own. Travel from the warm comforts of one state and into a cold, unfamiliar one every weekend to meet him and to fall in love. And if you could not find love, you would need to learn tolerance. Accept this unhappy future for the sake of the family, they said. For your troubles, you were offered a reservation at a comfortable hotel. A place to rest in between the drive and enjoy the last of your freedoms before the wedding bells rang.

Oh, but that doe-eyed boy behind the reception desk...

Miles.

In the past, you've heard your family refer to families of coyote-based shifters, but until you stumbled into this little hotel, you'd never met one in person. And even then, you couldn't pick one out of a lineup if your life depended on it. But from the moment you heard him knock on your door during your very first stay, you'd known something was different about him.

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, wild blue eyes darting every which way as he held out a small, familiar object in his hand. Your wallet. "You—you forgot this on my desk."

He could have kept it. Lord knows he needed every penny in there, but he'd brought it back to you just as you'd left it.

"Oh," quite frankly, you were speechless. Even now, you can't think of anything you could have said to fill the awkward gap of silence as you took it from his hand. "Thank you..." Your eyes frantically scanned across his jacket for that damned name tag. But it was upside down. Forcing you to tilt your head for a better read. "Miller?"

His eyebrows furrowed. Head tilted, like you had just spoken in a different language. "Huh?"

"That's your name, isn't it?" You nodded towards the nametag.

He had to follow your gaze to figure out what you were looking at. And as soon as he realized, his hands jumped into the air. "Oh!" Scurrying to fix it. Laughing. "I'm—I'm sorry. It's...my name is Miles..." Then, paused as he was in the process of flipping it, hesitantly meeting your eye. "Miller is my last name."

The only thing you'd known to do was to smile and correct yourself, but now the silence was unbearable. Miles and his awkward grin, wringing his hands, eyes flicking every which way. But then, all of a sudden, his head snapped toward the double doors of the lobby. He'd heard something, but you couldn't pick up a damn thing. Even as he apologized and darted off, you couldn't figure out what the hell he was hearing.

Strangest of all, a strange scent clung to the fabric of your wallet. Earthier. Like standing in a forest after a storm. That was no wolf scent; in fact, you had never encountered it before.

What was it?

You got your answer when, on your second visit, he ambled back up to your door—carrying a slice of pie fresh out of the oven, still steaming and hot to the touch. The same flavor you had looked for when you first arrived at the hotel, only to find that it was the one flavor freshly sold out. Originally, it was an apology for the off-putting note he'd left you on, but then he'd accidentally let go of the plate before you fully had a hold of it.

He'd yipped the moment the ceramic hit the ground. Then burst into an apology, claiming the noise to be some 'dumb coyote thing.'

The walk back to get another slice ended in chatter that has yet to die down.

Maybe he bewitched you with the sweet treats and cozy blankets he brought out of the exclusive bungalows because you didn't like the texture of the ones typically used to furnish your room. Or it could have been the soft touches and delicately whispered comments as if speaking any louder would cause the sentiment to lose all of its meaning.

But one way or another, you found your arms wrapped around those lithe shoulders. Catching each and every single one of his flurried kisses. Soft and giving, never demanding a thing, and so, so eager to give everything to you, even if that wasn't very much to start with. Stumbling backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, losing your balance in an instant.

You haven't quit falling since.

The body next to yours shifts, rolling closer to you, and the hand that skims your back does nothing but make you wriggle to the edge of the bed. Those aren't the hands that you've grown accustomed to, appearing softly at first. Feather-light fingertips stroking up the curve of your waist, gradually gaining confidence in his touch the further he goes until he flattens his palm against your belly.

A part of you can still hear what Miles would say right now.

"Is this still okay?" His lips always brush against your bare shoulder. Always seeking the reassurance that the boundary is still where it was a couple of hours ago, perhaps due to his own wavering line of what he can and can't handle.

The following whispered consent is religiously rewarded with a lingering kiss, his warm breath fanning out against your skin. Followed by another. And another. Guiding himself up your cheek to press one to your lips before nuzzling his nose into your neck.

They say coyotes and wolves don't mix, but you go together like lightning and thunder. Where Miles is swift and flickering, you are the booming, large presence that follows.

Tap.

Your head lifts.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There's nobody outside the window; there are no curtains, no scent to reveal their presence. Your eyes are designed for this very lighting, and yet, you cannot spot a single thing out of place.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It's not coming from the window. No, the tapping is...inside the room.

As slow as you can physically manage, you slip from the bed, careful not to disturb your sleeping partner. The last thing you feel like dealing with is a know-it-all man stealing the reins from your more-than-capable hands. Like he did when Miles turned up at the door, returning the ring you intentionally left at his desk. He damn near shoved you out of the way, unable to allow a coyote like Miles around you, even for a second.

Tap. Tap.

Coming from your right. But that doesn't make any...

the mirror.

The mirror is open.

"Miles," you can barely recall the sensation of your feet crossing the floor. Slipping into his warm arms before you can think twice, uncaring of the awkward gap you must lean over. "How did you..."

"Shh," squeezing you as close as he can possibly manage. "If he catches us..."

You'll both be dead.

But the continued, growling snores insist he's not waking anytime soon.

Reluctant, you peel yourself away from him. Too eager to get a glimpse of his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to—I..." he pauses. Recollecting himself. Squeezing your shoulders in his palms. "Do you remember what you said about wantin' to run away with me?"

You don't...you don't know what to say. Head tilting to glance at the occupied bed. Then to your luggage. Just moments ago, you were daydreaming about Miles, but, but... God, where will you go? How will he hide you from the sensitive noses of your family?

"I—I got my car workin' again, and I found scent blockers, and," he gulps so hard that his Adam's apple bobs. Frantic eyes flicking to the bed. Then back to you. "I ain't been there in a while, but I've still got that little apartment I told you 'bout."

You know where he's going with this. And your heart is hammering against your chest. Begging you to say yes. But your head knows better. There's no way you can escape without being caught. "Miles..."

"I know I ain't got all that much. I don't...I know I can't give you the same kind of life he could, but I..." his forehead presses against yours. Big, warm hands rising to curl around your cheeks. Blocking out the rest of the world as his heart continues to pour off of his tongue. "I can promise I'll love you until you're absolutely sick of me. Like you are of that pie I keep bringin' you."

As if that wasn't enough, he leans in and seals it by leaning in and meeting your lips. The gentlest of locks, hardly enough to count as a kiss at all. It feels like the first, all over again.

And you'll be damned if it's the last.

It takes five and a half steps to reach your suitcase. Three to slip into your shoes. One more to snatch that gaudy ring off of the bedside table. Ugly but valuable, given all of the things you've heard about it since it was shoved onto your finger.

The wheel clangs against the wall as you lift it. Miles goes pale. You freeze. The whole world stops turning. Slow, as if moving too quickly will cause the man in bed to stir, you turn your head.

Still asleep.

Getting the suitcase through the mirror should have been the hard part, but in reality, it's figuring out how to get up and swing your legs through the gap without smacking your head on the top. Miles's guiding hands are the only thing that helps you pull it off, firm against your waist, holding you firm in the event you lose your balance.

One foot leaves the worn hotel carpet.

The other lands on the solid, cement floor of the hidden corridor.

Miles swings the mirror shut. The latches audibly slide back into place. And suddenly, it's completely and utterly silent. Mere feet away from a man you've already forgotten the name of. Maybe you would remember if your attention wasn't wrapped up in the sight of Miles himself. Soft and real and dressed in that cozy mustard yellow cardigan.

He looks at you.

You look at him.

For a split second, telepathy is real. And you're both thinking the same damn thing.

"Oh, what the heck," he breathes, arms already beginning to open up, "c'mere."

It's the easiest thing you've done in your life. Stepping forward, shrinking that gap between your bodies in an instant. Arms draping across those lithe shoulders, noses crashing together as he clumsily kisses you. Careful arms curling around your waist.

Oh, it's everything you were just dreaming about. The dizzying sensation of him using his weight to push your back up against the chilly cement wall. Such a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating off of him, daring to press up against you.

You're melting like ice cream in the sweltering summer sun. Fingers lazily tangling in his hair, falling into the plush caress of his lips against yours. He tastes like the cola he keeps hidden behind the bar, so sweet that you reckon he's giving you a secondhand sugar rush, chasing away the remnants of sleep that still cling to your psyche.

The tips of his fingers brush at your nape, crawling to trace against your cheek, then down your shoulder. Can never seem to keep those big, weathered hands occupied for more than a few seconds at a time. Always has to be moving. Always.

You need to get going. Run before anyone notices your absence and comes looking. Can't even begin to imagine the things they would say if they walked in on you like this. Running away on the night before your wedding, tangled up with your new lover before a minute has even passed.

"Miles..." speaking against his lips. A half-assed effort that dies down as soon as he closes that gap again. Leading with his nose, the cold tip of it brushing against your cheek.

"We should stop..." he whines into your kiss like he's been longing for it all his life. On the same damn page as you, just as helpless, too. "We should..."

His hips twitch forward. Clumsily knocking into yours. The slightest brush of your bodies, and yet it's enough for you to catch onto what you've done to him. Hard as a rock in those stretchy work pants, so damn visible that you can see the bulge of his cock, right here in the dark.

Bold, you push forward. Foreheads bumping together as Miles struggles to back track, feet tangling, falling back against the wall with a surprised grunt. Wide eyes peer back at you, confused, but only for a moment. His unspoken question is answered by the sudden pressure of your palm, curling around the outline of him through his slacks.

Those pretty eyes fall shut, sucking in a breath. "Wha—here?" Though he's not putting up much of an argument against it. Struggling to suppress the whine that rolls past his lips, hips twitching up into you. So, so sensitive, no matter how many times you've done this to him.

"Do you want me to stop?" You're almost certain what his answer will be, thumb already toying with the metal of his button.

But his silence still has you waiting.

His head drops, forehead landing against your shoulder, almost ashamed to whisper, "...no."

The drag of his zipper is enough to make the button pop loose, so cheaply made that it was barely fastened in the first place. Your daring fingers slip inside, seeking the soft material of his boxers...that you don't find.

No, instead, your fingertips brush against warm skin, not another layer of clothing there to separate you from his heavy cock. And despite your surprise, your hand is already wrapping around him.

"Had a customer while I was gettin' dressed," Miles blurts, suddenly talkative as you give him a loose, experimental stroke, figuring out which angle is most comfortable for your arm, "I didn't have time—oh," your thump swipes over his weeping tip, always so wet for you, "and then, and then you walked in the door and I..."

"Forgot?" Filling in the blanks. Hardly able to pay attention to what he's saying. Too busy paying attention to the weight of him in your grasp, how his cute hips rock back and forth on their own, subtle accord. You shouldn't get this much pleasure out of stroking him, spreading his precum down his shaft.

His head nods against your shoulder, hair tickling your neck. "Uhuh."

Your eyes flick to the mirror, peering through the darkness of the hotel room you were in just minutes ago. Not a soul has noticed your absence yet. But even if they had, you don't think you'd be able to care. Too wrapped up in the soft whimpers that fall off Miles's tongue, the way they grow louder when your spare hand twists in his hair, pulling gently.

His head lifts, and your mouths crash together with all the grace of a trainwreck. Teeth clattering. Tongues meeting without a shred of notice. Messily tangling in the chilly air. Punctuated by Miles's sharp inhale.

Outside, a truck engine roars to life.

"Car," Miles chokes, "we gotta..."

It's the biggest power struggle of the century, his lithe body rolling against yours, too eager to feel you and have you and eat you alive, all at the same time. The sly twist of your wrist does absolutely nothing to help his case, eyes scrunching shut at the feeling. He's only got control of his hand, darting into his pocket. Returns with a thin plastic tube that you smell before you see.

Roll-on scent blocker. The nastiest combination of chemicals you've ever encountered, but they do their job as promised. Warm against your temple as he rubs it on you, covering your scent glands, one at a time. The ones on your neck, behind your ears, and the insides of each of your wrists, that horrid, sterile stench assaulting your nose like a bad memory. An unpleasant experience drawn out by the way you continue to torment your lover, thumb massaging beneath his sensitive tip all the while

But it's on, and Miles is damn dragging himself away, shoving himself back into the confines of his pants before he can even begin to second-guess his decision. Lips so wet that they shine, catching in the fraction of light provided in this dark little corridor as he bends down to grab the handle of your suitcase.

"Car," he repeats as if he's trying to convince himself more than you.

His spare hand reaches out, an open invitation that you're already halfway into taking. Fingers locking around each other, tightening as he guides you down this maze of a hallway. Past room after room, around two sharp bends, toward a dull, hardly helpful light. You're pretty sure he borrowed that bulb from one of the bungalows after management defaulted on their usual payment for supplies.

You wonder if this is the last time you'll ever see this hotel.

The somewhat offputting taxidermy behind the reception desk. Clashing with the refined purples and blues of this section of the building. Dusty gambling machines and tables that haven't seen a game since last winter are now only useful for storing cleaning products and a stash of towels.

All so dead compared to the vivid gold, orange, and brown across the room. Warm lighting and the equally cozy booths snuggled into the lower floor. Far too pretty to be surrounded by a floor tile that aims to recreate an enchanting stone pathway, and has instead become a heaven to dirt and trash that no mop or vacuum can fully collect.

It's all there and gone in a second, cut short by the squeal of the front doors, opening up to a big, rainy world, all yours to explore. The parking lot is so flooded that it's become one big puddle, splashing as you run through it, licking at your exposed ankles. You can hardly tell where you're going, blindly led by the hand that has yet to let go of yours.

The car is parked all by its lonesome in the center of the lot, away from the other residents and directly across from the vehicle you were driven here in. Only when you're close does Miles let go of you, treading toward the back of the vehicle while you reach for the car door. You've never been so thankful to find that something is unlocked, damn near falling into the backseat.

Miles is on you before you even hear the trunk close. Hips slotting between your thighs as he squirms on top of you, giggling as he trails kisses up the side of your neck. Leading himself over your jaw and across your cheek, moving so quickly that it almost tickles. Only pausing to linger when he meets your mouth, humming like the cat who got the cream.

"Whole darn weddin' party is parked out here," he grunts, unabashedly rolling himself against your thigh, "almost feel bad for stealin' you away."

"Don't," sucking in a breath, tugging at that damned cardigan of his, "the wedding was more for them than it was for me."

He leans back on his haunches, tugging the flimsy material from his shoulders. Tosses it somewhere up in the front seat. "Promise I won't make ya feel like that if we ever get to have one."

Your head is spinning, struggling for an ounce of sanity in this cramped little car as you reach to push your shorts down your legs. "Do you want me to go back for the dress so you can marry me before the sun is up?" Half joking.

You fear you'd do it if he asked.

But his head just shakes, already beginning to fumble with the buttons of his work shirt. "Nah," two snap off entirely, scattering into the leather seat. By the time you realize he's got it off, he's already halfway into peeling that final layer over his head. He's on you before the old tee has even landed on the floorboard. Returning to his favorite place between your legs. "You were right when you said that the dress doesn't suit ya at all."

It's hard to lift your hand to your heart and feign shock when his chest is pressed up against your own, careful lips pressing kisses to the underside of your jaw. Hell, working up a tone of mock surprise is even a task. "You were watching me change?"

"You," kiss, "were facing the mirror," another kiss, "lookin' right back at me the whole time." One more, right on your lips. Too innocent for what goes on down below, the heavy bulge of his cock rubbing against you.

On their own accord, your legs are circling him, pulling those lithe hips even closer; he's got the idea, already beginning to grind into you in earnest. Makes it so, so hard for you to focus on your half-assed attempt at defending yourself. "I was trying to see what I looked like!"

"Do you always mouth my name when you undress?" His words come out breathy, like the very memory is enough to get under his skin. "Had half the mind to open the mirror right then 'n there."

You can't even begin to imagine what kind of hell would unravel if he'd done that. Haven't a doubt in your mind that you would have been on him in a second, much like you are right now. Frenzied hands smoothing past his biceps, scurrying up to slide across his back. Silky smooth beneath your palms, interrupted by a raised scar that sits next to the knobs of his spine, with a story you'd rather not recall.

All too quickly, it's fallen quiet in this little car. Nothing but the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof, set alight by the distinct red glow of the grand, neon sign hanging overhead. As if anyone could possibly forget they were staying at the El Royale. So damn bright that it reflects off Miles's pale skin, glistening as he kisses down your neck, soft mouth so feather-light that it tickles in the best of ways.

He jerks backward. Face twisting like he's eaten something sour. Barely manages to keep his eyes open.

"Get a taste of that scent blocker?" You giggle, already halfway into reaching up, curling your palm around his cheek. Now, it's your hand that is bathed in the warm, red glow.

"Uhuh," and he's already responding to the faint nudge of your fingertips, eyelashes fluttering closed as he meets you halfway.

And despite it all, it's as gentle as it has always been. The sort of thing that melts you around the edges, with the slow guide of his lips, massaging against yours in an elegant dance that no soul can recreate. Head spinning like a tiny ballerina in a music box, moving to a melody that only you two can hear.

But then your delicate tongue is swiping against his lower lip, and he's parting with a dizzying gasp. Downright placid as you lick into his mouth, so shy he can hardly rise to greet you, darting away the moment you meet. But then he's back again, lazily tangling with you, fleeting meetings and contented hums, bodies pressing impossibly closer. His hips involuntarily twitch up into yours, the outline of his cock rubbing against your cunt, and the two thin layers between you do nothing to stop you from feeling how he spasms in his slacks.

Your touches are wandering. Skating down his neck and across his chest, svelte and gently muscled, like you're running your palms across a marble statue. Dancing over the slight dent of a scar on his belly, the one he's only recently felt comfortable having touched, past the divots of his ribs and down his sensitive sides.

He's everything, and he doesn't even know it.

"Miles..." gasping into his mouth, breathless.

His head tilts. You can almost see those large, pointed ears twisting on the sides of his head. Always curious. "Hm?"

Hell. You don't even know what you were saying his name for. Wordless, your hand continues to wander between your bodies and across the hem of his pants, cupping him through them. Rewards you with a groan far too loud for this tranquil backseat.

Overhead, thunder rolls as if Mother Nature herself has risen from her slumber to remind you of where you are. How easily you can get caught if someone notices your absence and walks out into the parking lot. One little peak into the windows is all it would take.

You don't have the luxury of taking your time. Not tonight, at least.

So you do the only thing you can think of. You hitch your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and tug. With Miles between your legs, you're forced to draw your knees to your chest to fully draw them down, forcing him to lean back. He's already batting your hands away, pulling the thin material past your heels and dropping them on top of his own clothes.

It happens so quickly compared to how slowly things were progressing just moments before. Your curious fingers pulling at his zipper for the second time today, too eager to see him spill out of his slacks once more, pink tip flushed so red that it rivals the neon glow cast upon you. Not necessarily big in size, but thick enough for it to be noticeable.

Ugh, you hadn't realized how wet you were until now, cunt leaving him glistening from dragging between your folds alone.

"Fuck," you whisper over an airy breath, struggling to keep your eyes open, "I missed this."

The corner of Miles's lip rises, eyelashes fluttering like tiny butterflies, bashfully smug in a fashion that only he can pull off. His mouth moves, but not a word comes out, too focused on watching his cock head drag against your clit to produce more than a hum. Those narrow hips have already found the pace you didn't realize you were craving; he always has been a quick learner.

It's mesmerizing to watch the plush tip gliding in and out of your view, leaking a bead of precum that gets lost in your wetness. And you can't help but reach down and run your fingers overtop of him, feeling over the myriad of bulging veins.

Without warning, his body twitches backward a smidgen too far, unintentionally sliding down to nudge against your entrance. Delicious pressure blooms, and you fear you're too far gone to put it off any longer. Eager hands rise to curl around his biceps, squeezing lightly as his head slips inside.

"I..." those eyes of his are focused where your bodies meet, helpless to stop himself as he sinks into your pussy, "condom...forgot..."

A part of you should be worried about it. There's no way that you'll be able to go inside and clean up, and lord only knows how long it'll take to get to his apartment. Yet your eager legs are wrapping around him before he can think twice about it, drawing him deeper.

"That's okay," you pant, don't particularly mind the idea of feeling him spasm and fill you up again. It's been so long that you can't remember the last time it happened.

Six weeks without him was far too long. This is what you've been missing. The heavy drag of him inside you, curved in such a way that he rubs into the nerves hidden there, kissing them on his way past. A dull ache grows as he stretches you open, so damn thick that you ought to win an award for taking him to the base.

Miles wavers, forearms shivering as he fights to keep himself upright. A weak leaf shaking in the wind, breaking the moment you pull him in, collapsing into you with a loud, echoing whimper. He's already bottoming out, the soft material of his pants flush against your ass. There goes every bit of rationality you have left.

"You can move," you're speaking clearly. At least, you think you are, but your favorite coyote doesn't seem to hear you. Soft nose bumping into the side of your neck, a little too comfortable there. "Miles." Nothing.

Your hand slips down to smack his ass.

He grunts. Jolting into you. Whether or not he heard what you said is anyone's guess, but he's starting to move. Peeling his soft, warm body backward, cock withdrawing. For a moment, you can breathe. Blessed with a moment of sanity before he sinks back in, gingerly nudging the air from your lungs.

"Is that..." his warm cheek brushes against yours. Always has to be so close, "Is that okay?" The swell of his ass pushes into your hand; you can't help but grab a handful of it.

"More than okay," it's difficult to recognize this tone of your voice, so airy that it might as well have been whispered by the wind.

You don't understand how something simple can feel so good. The gentle roll of his hips are so fluid that his thrusts almost feel smooth. No harsh smack of skin on skin or jostling meetings of your bodies, the curve of his cock rubbing into every nerve it can find. Has your cunt so wet around him that you can hear it. Sickening squelches too damn out of place for such delicate movements.

Lips ghost across the side of your jaw, peppered by the faint whimpers that slip from Miles's throat, fussy in that stereotypical coyote fashion. It does nothing to change what you're feeling, yet you're pulsing around him, set off by those sweet little noises.

"You look so beautiful underneath me," he mewls against the corner of your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you with a familiar glimmer. Only he can look at you like that. Not anyone you've ever crossed paths with. And certainly not the man you were meant to marry come sunrise.

Your legs are squeezing tighter around him, drawing his warm frame impossibly close, as if he could slip away from you at any given moment. Best of all, he lets you. Situating his forearms to rest on either side of your head, chests snug against each other, leaning up just enough to keep looking into your eyes. One of those big hands curls around your cheek, cradling it like glass.

His angle shifts, driving up into those little nerves so hard that your legs twitch, body jerking on its own accord. Must be a mutual thing because it has you gasping against each other's lips, quiet whines dancing through the dark car and out into the parking lot, washed away by the pouring rain.

"I can't get enough of you," Miles croaks, a little waver in his tone. All of a sudden, his eyes squeeze shut. Brows knitting together with a pained noise.

"Miles?" The haze is dissipating, your careful hands rising to cradle his head. "Are you okay?"

For a moment, he doesn't move.

"Uhuh," shallowly nodding, like that little motion even manages to hurt him, "I pulled a muscle in my back the other day, 's all." But then his body twitches forward, driving his cock back into you, and his face twists again.

You're only got one solution on deck.

Despite the overwhelming sense of emptiness you're left with when Miles pulls out of you, sitting up is easy. He doesn't need any help falling into the seat, legs a smidgen too long to sit back here, his knees digging into the backside of the passenger seat. And you're fortunate that the ceiling in this car is rather high because sitting on his lap puts you up much higher than you expected.

His hand disappears between your thighs, carefully taking hold of himself and guiding the tip back to nudge at your cunt. Ugh, it's perfect. The aching stretch of taking him once more, how he manages to still find those niche little spots that toys always seem to miss. So good that your jaw is slack before you've even taken all of him.

"Better?" You're already breathless, arms lazily coming to rest around his shoulders.

He's not doing much better than you are, head leaned back against the cushion, peering back at you with such an unfocused gaze that you reckon he might be on another planet. "Uhuh." But his hands rise to squeeze the sides of your hips, hanging on as you rise up.

You're gonna be in so much trouble if one of your wedding guests walks outside and catches a glimpse of your silhouette rising and falling. Never in their wildest dreams would they suspect that you're getting fucked by the coyote from the front desk. Your dripping pussy clenching around him like a vice, so wet that he almost slips out of you entirely.

"Fuck," hissing, your nails biting into the back of his pale neck, "Miles."

You were trying to go slow, but you can hardly control your own body, rhythm dissolving before you can even get it established—short, jerky movements, so frenzied that you can feel the vehicle sway with it. Mouths clash. Teeth knocking together. Miles and his pitchy whimpers damn near eat you alive.

"This is so bad," he's panting like a dog, cheeks flushed so red that you can see it through the neon glow. "So bad..."

Beneath you, his hips jerk upward, meeting you halfway. By the sound of it, he surprises both of you, crying out so sharply that you reckon the whole damn hotel heard it. You can't even find it in yourself to worry about getting caught. Not when he's twitching inside of you, hitting right where you crave him most.

"Feels good, feels good, oh my god," tears welling up in his eyes, already threatening to creep past his waterline, "fuck." Whimpering in the pitchiest little tone you've ever heard out of him.

He's so perfect. You think you could die happy right here and now.

It's so distracting that you don't realize what he's doing until his rough thumb is bumping against your clit. His pressure wavers, light as a feather one moment and then directly rubbing into it the next, struggling to keep up with your frenzied pace. But it's...it's...

"Miles, keep—" begging like your life depends on it. Punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin. "Keep doing that."

Those tears spill over his cheeks, a hiccup bubbling out of him, unraveling right in front of you. His legs squirm behind you, knees knocking together, can't stay still to save his life.

"Oh god, oh god," he's babbling. Head lolling back and forth like it's too heavy for him to keep up, yet his watery eyes remain on you, never once glancing away.

It's so much. You don't—you don't know how you're keeping it together. An ache blooming in the muscle of your thighs, knees digging uncomfortably into the crook of the seat. You're certain it'll leave a visible mark on them, but you can't stop. Hopelessly chasing the kiss of his cock head against your nerves and the drag of his length inside of you.

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." you know what he's trying to say; you're feeling it too. He stiffens, fighting to speak. "Baby, I'm gonna cum in you if you don't stop—"

"Cum in me, Miles," cutting him off entirely. Too damn impatient to keep quiet. Not when you can already feel a burning coil in your lower belly, winding tighter and tighter.

Those pretty blue eyes roll into the back of his head without further warning. Back arching, hips lifting off the seat, lips parted with a silent cry. The thumb on your clit spasms in tune with his cock, pulsing deep inside, flooding your pussy with his cum.

But you're not there yet. Trapped on a frustrating edge that you can't seem to fall over. Clenching so tight around him that you can already feel his cum spilling out and onto his pants, making a horrible mess that you don't have the means to clean. Your dominant hand drops down, knocking his out of the way, fingertips finding your clit.

All of a sudden, Miles is alive. His whole body jerks. Squirming back and forth. Whimpering. Whining. Feet kicking at the floorboard. It's too much for him, you know it is, but this isn't his first rodeo, and he's not telling you to stop.

"Feels too good, feels—" his hands clamp over his own mouth, one over top of the other, and even that hardly works.

"No," pawing at his wrists with your other hand, half-hearted, but the intent is still there. "I wanna hear you."

And he does. Arms hesitantly falling. Grabbing at the seats like he doesn't trust himself to not do it again. His head tilts back, a flurry of short, pitchy noises falling from his parted lips. Moaning like a cheap whore. Oversensitive. So damn eager to let you use him. Uncaring of who may overhear or what goes on outside this tiny car.

Heat rushes through you, skin prickling with a familiar tension. There's a tremor in your thighs that wasn't there before, cunt fluttering around him, muscles set alight. The coil in your lower belly winding tighter and tighter until you can't fucking breathe.

"C-cum," Miles stammers through a hiccup, blinking up at you, "cum on my cock, please."

And you do. Freezing without an ounce of warning, the car seeming to spin on its own as your orgasm finally, finally washes over you. It's as if you've been sucked out the window and up into the storm clouds above, absolutely fucking weightless as you cum around his cock. Every little twitch has him bumping into those abused spots, so exhausted that the only thing they can do is send a tingle through your thighs.

It takes you a good minute to realize why your forehead is so warm all of a sudden.

"I think..." Miles only starts talking when you lift your face from the crook of his shoulder, leaning back to get a look at him, "I think you almost killed me." But he accepts your kiss without complaint, humming into it with a grin.

"I can take you for another round if that's what you want," teasing, just to get a reaction out of him. You don't know if you could go again, even if you wanted to.

His head shakes back and forth, tear-stained cheeks glistening in the light. "Nuh-uh," interrupted by a giggle, "doll, you wear me out anymore, 'n I'll be asleep before you're even finished with me."

Your noses unintentionally bump into each other, a little too close. Miles shakes his head once more, rubbing them together.

"You still certain you wanna run with me?" He murmurs after a moment. There's a softness in his eye that suggests he wouldn't hold it against you if you were to turn and go back into your hotel room. Accept an incompatible partner in exchange for certain financial stability and status.

Someone who doesn't bury his head under your shirt and listen to your heartbeat when the hotel down the road sets off fireworks. Who won't wake you in the middle of the night, shivering over a dream that he never wants to describe.

Miles doesn't have all that much to offer. You know it. He knows it. But just looking at him has made you happier than anyone else ever has, flaws and all. Lord knows he wasn't lying when he promised to love you until you couldn't stand it because he already does.

You couldn't ask for anything more.

"For you?" Whispering against his lips, a secret to be shared just between the two of you. "Always."

For eleven months, nobody knows what happened to you.

A newspaper calls you an altar runaway but doesn't quite blame you for doing it, either. Photographs of you litter the streets of your hometown and the little city that the El Royale is considered a part of, but you're a long way from there. Settled down in an adorable apartment, working a job where no one recognizes you.

You're beginning to think that this is what bliss feels like. Miles and his warm arms, endearing coyote quirks, and sudden bursts of energy that leave you two giggling on the couch or venturing into a diner in a faraway town, just for the hell of it. He breaks apart on some days, but his promise never loses its shimmer, undamaged, regardless of it all.

The author of that article claims she spotted you walking out of a grocery store, hand in hand with a man who smelled like a coyote, with a dainty little ring around your finger. Nobody believes her when she reports it on the front page, and that's okay because it's your own little secret.

It's no one's business where this ring came from, how Miles painstakingly saved and designed it at a jewelry shop down the road, whittled a ring box with his own two hands. Whether or not it's a wedding or a promise ring is anyone's guess; you've no plans to tell.

"Honey," Miles whines, feet audibly padding into the room. You've hardly got the energy to lift your head. "You gotta quit leavin' your purse on the counter."

Wary, you pry one eye open. "Did you spill water on it again?"

"Might've," and you suppose that's why you can hear the fan running in the dead of winter.

The bed dips as Miles slips under the covers, bare legs tangling with yours before he can even get settled. One of these days, it will get cold enough to convince him to wear more than just an oversized t-shirt to bed, but today isn't that day. Hell, it may never come because he's long since figured out that he can nuzzle up and steal the heat off of you instead.

You don't need to look to know that he's beckoning you in; that fussy little whine of his tells it all. Coyotes. Talkative even when they're not using their words. Snuggle bugs, too. Miles already has his head nestled on top of yours, and you're not even finished getting situated.

"I love you," he whispers, those three little words far too delicate to be said any louder.

"I know," giggling. He told you while you were brushing your teeth just a few minutes ago, can never seem to quit saying it. "I love you too."

This bed is comfortable, but it'll never match the warmth that his arms bring.

#miles miller #miles miller x reader #bad times at the el royale #oneshot #werewolf au

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callsign-fox · 2 years

Text

Welcome Home - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Your brother Jake throws a party at your place, but all you wanted to do was take hot shower before getting into bed.

18+ ONLY // smut warning!

Co-written with @fanficgirl429 ! Thank you @imjess-themess and @blue-aconite for reading it over! <3 you both!

--------------------------------------------------------

It was already dark when Y/N got out of work. Things at the office had been crazy, and she just wanted to go home and take a nice, hot bath. With Christmas just around the corner, Y/N’s work had picked up considerably. Since she was in a managerial position, she had been on her feet for most of the day, and barely had any time to rest.

When Y/N drove up to her house she was shocked to see numerous cars scattered about the street and her driveway. Most of the lights were already on, a stark contrast to when she normally arrived home. It took her a moment to remember that her twin brother was living with her for a brief while and that she told him it was alright to have some people over for a barbecue. She silently regretted allowing it, being that all she wanted to do was have a quiet night to herself in bed.

Before stepping into the house, she took a deep breath so that she wouldn’t go off on her brother, Jake. She slowly opened the front door, surprised to find that it was relatively quiet inside. As she walked further into the house, she noticed three men sitting on the couch in the living room, beers in their hands. When they saw her, each of them nodded hello as she continued past them toward the patio. Two of the men she didn’t know, but one of them was familiar to her. She’d recognize that mustache anywhere. He smiled at her, and she smiled back at him before heading outside where music was currently blasting.

Her brother was currently grilling hot dogs and hamburgers, and he smiled at her as she sauntered toward him.

“Welcome home sis!” Jake greeted her.

“And what a welcome it is! What’s going on?” Y/N asked, motioning to everyone around her.

“Just having a get-together with some of the guys.”

Y/N glanced around the backyard, “Some of the guys?”

Jake frowned at his sister, “You said it was okay, it’s okay right?”

“I just thought you meant a small get-together. There are a lot of people here, Jake. I hope you know you are cleaning everything up tomorrow!”

Jake placed his free hand over his heart. “I promise you will never know that anything happened here.”

Y/N laughed. “Thank you.”

Just as she was about to turn around, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist and picked her up, spinning her around in a circle.

“I’ve missed you!” a familiar voice said from behind her.

“Coyote!” Y/N smiled, “I’ve missed you too, it's been so long!” Coyote wrapped her up in his arms and squeezed.

It was then that Y/N noticed someone was leaning against the door frame watching her interaction with Coyote. His brown eyes locked with hers before she quickly looked away. She waited a few moments before looking back at the door but by then the figure was gone.

She turned her attention back to Coyote and quickly caught up with him. Although Y/N enjoyed catching up with Coyote, she had a hard time staying focused. A certain someone was lingering on her mind and she really wanted to see him again, preferably alone and away from everyone else.

The conversation with Coyote came to a good stopping point and Y/N stood up, excusing herself. “It was nice to see you again,” Y/N told him and started to head into the house.

Phoenix, one of her brother's squad mates, was standing in the kitchen and talking to Bradley. He was dressed in one of his infamous Hawaiian shirts, blue jeans, with his aviator sunglasses resting on the top of his head. Once again their eyes locked for a brief second. Phoenix pulled Y/N into a hug and asked if she was going to be sticking around for the party. Y/N shrugged and said, “I don’t know. It’s been a long day. I really just want to take a long bath and go to bed.”

Phoenix shook her head at Y/N’s response. “You are not going to bed! Go shower, wake yourself up, and then come back down here! We have so much to catch up on!”

Y/N conceded and headed toward the staircase.

“And if you take too long I'm coming up there to get you!” Phoenix shouted behind her.

Y/N spun around and winked at her, knowing Phoenix well enough, that she would come up and drag her ass down the stairs.

Y/N walked into her room and closed the door behind her, blocking out most of the noise from downstairs. She walked straight into the bathroom and turned the shower on. As she waited for the water to warm up, her mind drifted to Bradley. She couldn’t help but notice how every time she saw him, he looked better and better. She felt like a middle schooler crushing on her brother's hot friend. It made her even more excited at the thought. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was excited to go back downstairs.

The bathroom was beginning to fill with steam and Y/N felt the water to make sure it was warm enough. When she was satisfied with the temperature, she reached down and pulled her dress shirt over her head, revealing her lacy black bra. Just as she had removed her jeans, she noticed the door to her bathroom opening out of the corner of her eye.

“Bradley!” Y/N gasped.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

Y/N took a deep breath as Bradley opened the door, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes widened at the sight of her standing in her bra and underwear.

“You look amazing,” he said, his arms wrapping slowly around her waist.

Her cheeks turned slightly red from the compliment. She stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his before pulling away quickly. Her body tingled from his touch and she instantly wanted more. He must have been reading her mind, because a moment later he gently pulled her closer and continued kissing her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to be as close to him as she possibly could be. Bradley gently bit down on her lower lip and tugged before slipping his tongue into her mouth. Their hips were pressed against one another and Y/N could feel his erection already beginning to form. His hands moved hungrily up her body and reached behind her, expertly unhooking her bra. He gently slid it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

Their mouths moved together, having done this a few times before, but due to time constraints, a protective brother, and nosy friends, they had never been able to be this intimate. Now, in her own house, far from prying eyes, she was ready to give him everything.

It was at that moment Y/N came to the realization of what was happening downstairs. Her brother, as well as all of his friends, were drinking and partying as her and Bradley continued to tear off one another’s clothes.

“Please tell me you locked my door?” she asked.

“Of course I did,” Bradley replied, his lips grazing her ear.

Bradley’s fingers grazed Y/N’s hips as he slowly walked her backwards and into the shower. Bending down, he placed soft kisses along her jawline, down her neck, and across her breast. His tongue tenderly ran circles over her nipple, making it stand erect.

Y/N could not believe that this was really happening. She had imagined many times what this would be like, but it was already exceeding all of her expectations. Y/N tangled her fingers in his shaggy brown hair as he continued to leave a trail of kisses down her body, towards her throbbing core.

“Bradley,” Y/N whined.

Without hesitation, Bradley tugged her soaked underwear down her legs and she quickly kicked them off, exposing all of herself to him. When Y/N hooked up with a guy for the first time she was normally nervous and a little self conscious, however with Bradley it was completely different. He always made her feel like she was safe and could be herself with him.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.

Bradley placed his hand on the back side of Y/N’s thigh and placed it over his shoulder. His tongue slowly moved up and down her core, driving her mad. His lips continued between her folds, occasionally stopping to brush his mustache against her sensitive spot.

Her whole body ached with pleasure from the feeling of his tongue on her sex. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, reveling in his touch. Within moments, her walls were clenching together and she let out a moan as Bradley worked her through her climax.

“Fuck, I need you,” Bradley groaned as he pushed his wet hair back away from his face.

She reached down and wrapped her hand around his length. He let out a soft moan as she began to move her hand up and down. His lips pressed against hers, as he kissed her quickly.

“Are you…” Bradley began.

“Yes, I'm on the pill,” Y/N muttered between breaths.

Bradley lined himself up with Y/N’s core and slowly pushed in. Y/N’s body quickly adjusted to his size and when she nodded, he began to move his hips against hers. Water dripped down Y/N’s chest as Bradley’s teeth nibbled her ear.

Bradley held tightly on Y/N’s waist as he pressed his body against hers. Reaching up, Y/N grabbed onto his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. There would definitely be marks there when they were done.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N breathed as Bradley reached down and rubbed his finger against her sensitive spot, bringing her closer to her high.

A knock on the door made Y/N freeze but it only made Bradley go faster.

“W-Who’s there?” Y/N squeaked.

“It's me,” Phoenix said from the other side of the door. “Are you almost done?”

Y/N threw her head back, her body melting against Bradley’s touch. “Y-yeah, umm, a few more minutes,” YN mumbled.

Y/N listened as Phoenix left the room and closed the door behind her. A loud moan escaped Y/N’s lips as she reached her high. Her walls clenched around Bradley’s length as she roughly bit down on his shoulder to hold in a whine. Bradley wasn’t far behind as he let out a moan and released inside her.

After catching their breath, Y/N smiled and placed a kiss on Bradley’s lips. “I thought you said the door was locked.”

Bradley shrugged before shoving his face into the crook of her neck. “I thought it was. I guess Phoenix got a party and a show.”

666 notes · View notes

teddy06writes · 9 months

Text

X Reader Fic Masterlist

Dead Poet Society:

General/Unit:

Charlie Daltons Annuel Dead Poets Holiday Party: Halloween Edition Diner Days Everything Falls Apart Study Session Repercussions Dating the Dead Poets HCs

Neil Perry:

Music of the Night Why'd I Guess the Ending? Anywhere... Just Not Home Happiness Here For You A Quiet Moment Everyone But You

Todd Anderson:

Favorite Poet Surprise Cuddle Sessions Friday Night Fun, Monday Meetings

Steven Meeks: Of Little Love Poems, Secret Admirers and Anonymous Notes

Charlie Dalton:

Friends to Lovers Hcs

Gerard Pitts: None yet

Richard Cameron: None yet

Knox Overstreet: None Yet

~~~

The Outsiders:

General/Unit:

Being the Fourth Curtis Brother HCs

Dallas Winston:

Never Fall In Love Again No Matter What Ghost Stories Late Nights By The Fire Oh How The Turn Tables People Watching

Sodapop Curtis:

Golden Too Old? Yeah Right! Meltdown Soda x theaterkid!reader

Two Bit Mathews:

I'll Try Too Old? Yeah Right! Spooky-est Place On Earth

Darry Curtis:

Pumpkin Spice Everything Hot Tea Heals The Soul Morning Routines

Johnny Cade:

Protective Cool, Calm, and Collected-- Until He Smiles

Steve Randle:

1955 Chevy Delray

Polyam Jally:

Take Me Back to the Night We Met

Polyam Dallypop:

I Told You It Was A Dumbass Plan

~~~

Top Gun: Maverick:

General/Unit:None Yet

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw: None Yet

Jake 'Hangman' Sersin: None Yet

Javy 'Coyote' Machado:None Yet

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace: None Yet

Robert 'Bob' Floyd: None Yet

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia: None Yet

Ruben 'Payback' Fitch: None Yet

Polyam Hangster: None Yet

Polyam Bobnix: None yet

~~~

The Bear:

Carmen Berzatto: None yet

Sydney Adamu: None Yet

Richie Jerimovich: None yet

Marcus: None Yet

~~~

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby:

Can't Sleep?

Arthur Shelby: None yet

John Shelby: None yet

Lizzie Stark/Shebly: None yet

Alfie Solomons:

Interrupted Date Nights Lost Words Win Win Much Ado About Nothing

Michael Gray: None Yet

~~~

Star Wars:

Cassian Andor:

Stubborn

Jyn Erso: None Yet

Polyam CassianxJyn: None yet

Bhodi Rook: None Yet

Din Djarin: None Yet

Han Solo: None Yet

~~~

Lord Of The Rings/The Hobbit:

The Fellowship: None Yet

The Company: None Yet

Aragorn: None Yet

Boromir: None yet

Legolas: None Yet

Gimli: None Yet

Frodo Baggins: None Yet

Samwise Gamgee:

Harmony

Pippin Took:None Yet:

Merry Brandybuck:None Yet

Faramir: None Yet

Eomer: None yet

Eowyn: None Yet

Bilbo Baggins: None yet

Thorin Oakenshield:None yet

Kili: None yet

Fili:None yet

Bofur: None yet

Bard Bowman: None yet

~~~

The Umbrella Academy:

General/Unit: None yet

Number Five Hargreeves: None yet

Klaus Hargreeves: None Yet

Diego Hargreeves: None yet

Allison Hargreeves: None Yet

Luther Hargreeves: None Yet

Viktor Hargreeves: None Yet

Lila Pitts: None Yet

~~~

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes: None yet

Sam Wilson: None yet

Natasha Romanoff: None yet

Loki: None Yet

Druig: None Yet

Makari: None yet

Sersi: None yet

~~~

The Breakfast Club:

General/Unit:

None yet

John Bender: None yet

Andrew Clarke: None Yet

Brian Johnson: None yet

Claire Standish: None yet

Allison Reynolds: None yet

~~~

More potentially to be added...

#teddy 06 #teddy06writes #Dead poets society x reader #The outsiders x reader #Top Gun x reader #The bear x reader #Peaky Blinders x reader #Star wars x reader #Lord of the rings x reader #the hobbit x reader #The umbrella academy x reader #Marvel x reader #the breakfast club x reader

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whisperofsong · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Female Reader

Summary: One encounter results in a special bond.

Word Count: 1,419 words

Note: This was written for @roosterforme ‘s Valentine’s Day challenge! Thank you for reading and supporting my writing🙂

____________________________________________

“What did your arch nemesis do this time?” Jake asks while folding his arm behind his head to support it while lying on his less than comfortable bed.

“You mean my annoying coworker?”

“Aren’t the identifiers interchangeable?”

“You got me there, Seresin,” you admit.

A knowing smirk is etched across Jake’s face because even though you two aren’t together, he can envision your smile. After you regale Jake with the details concerning your coworker’s latest antics, your head swims with the conversations you’ve had with him over the last few months. The nightly phone calls have become routine and, truthfully, the best part of your day.

Several months ago, your cousin, Bob, invited you to a New Year’s Eve party hosted by one of his colleagues/friends, Javy, also known as Coyote. You had been reluctant to go, considering you wouldn’t know anyone besides Bob and worried it may appear as though you were imposing, but Bob was swift to allay your concerns. Once you arrived, you understood why Bob had no apprehension about bringing you along. Everyone was amicable and conversational, treating you as one of their own.

Before the party, Bob warned you about a man named Hangman and his relentless bravado. As a result, you made a mental note to steer clear of the man your cousin depicted as insufferable. At one point, you were in the kitchen searching for a nonalcoholic beverage when a figure knelt beside you.

“Something I can help you with?” he asked in a southern drawl that momentarily caught you off guard. His features were chiseled and sharp, a stark contrast to his softer green eyes that held your own.

“I’m not sure. I was hoping there might be seltzer left, but it looks like I’m out of luck.”

The stranger wordlessly stood up, disappeared for no more than a minute, and returned with a bottle of seltzer. “Coyote keeps extras in the garage.”

“Thanks,” you reply with a small smile. After taking a sip of your drink, you lock eyes with the stranger once more. You assumed he would leave after handing you the beverage, but his current stance doesn’t indicate intentions of leaving.

“Your Bob’s cousin, right?”

“Yes. I’m Y/N. And you are?”

“Jake,” he replies with a broad grin and an outstretched hand.

You place your hand in his and give it a brief shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Jake.”

“Likewise. Everyone’s been treating you well, I hope?”

“Everyone’s been great! I’m having fun.”

“Good. Otherwise, I’d have to kick some ass,” he shares in a playful tone.

“I’ll keep you around if Hangman makes an appearance,” you joke and Jake’s expression changes from amused to serious.

“Hangman?” he echoes.

“Bob mentioned that your colleague, Hangman, is quite a handful. With the way he described the guy, I’m amazed there’s enough room for him and his ego in his aircraft,” you tease with your lips pressed to the rim of the bottle before taking another sip.

Jake temporarily hangs his head before returning your gaze. “It’s a tight fit, but I manage.”

Your eyes widen as you slowly lower the drink in your hand. “You’re Hangman?”

“I am. I see my reputation precedes me, although apparently that’s not a good thing.”

“I’m…I’m sorry, I…” You frantically search for words, the right ones, but they’re nowhere to be found as Jake’s green eyes capture yours with a hint of a smile. It doesn’t look like you’ll be receiving an invitation here ever again, says your inner voice.

“I should go,” you mumble, eager to remove yourself from the awkward situation, but his fingers brush your wrist as you attempt to escape.

“I’d actually like you to stay.”

“Even after I inadvertently insulted you?” you ask with a bemused and incredulous expression.

“It’s not like you didn’t make a point. I know who I am and I’m well aware of what others, including my teammates, think of me, but I don’t make apologies. And you shouldn’t apologize for who you are either.”

“Who am I exactly?” you inquire, curiosity reflected in your eyes.

“A woman who isn’t afraid to be blunt. I respect that.”

If the twinkle in his eye was any indication, you knew he did and perhaps it was that twinkle that persuaded you to stay, as Jake requested.

A week after the party, an unfamiliar number appeared on your screen and you decided to answer it. “Hello?” you ask, balancing it on your shoulder as you amble from the office to your car, one of the few remaining vehicles in the spacious parking lot.

“I’m surprised you answered. I was expecting it to go straight to voicemail,” says a male voice.

“Who is this?” The reception isn’t the greatest, thereby making it difficult to determine who the voice belongs to on the other end.

“I’ll give you a hint. A guy who carries around an inflated ego.”

You place your belongings on the passenger seat so your hand is free to grasp your phone, making it much easier to talk. “Jake. Or do you prefer I call you Hangman?”

“Jake is just fine. I hope it’s okay that I called you.”

“Why did you call me?” you ask as you clumsily climb into the driver’s seat.

“I really enjoyed our conversation at the party and was hoping to talk to you some more. However, I get it if you’re busy-“

“No. I’d like that, too,” you answer in a rush.

You talked to Jake for the entirety of your commute home, as you prepared dinner, while you cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes, and made yourself comfortable on the couch. You were in the midst of telling Jake a funny incident that occurred at a family barbecue when you glanced at the clock, which read 8:07 p.m.

“Oh my gosh,” you sputter. “Jake, we’ve been on the phone for three hours!”

“Have we?” he responds in a nonchalant tone. “It feels like ten minutes.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” you say as you pick at a loose thread on your pants.

Ever since that initial phone call, you and Jake have spoken on the phone multiple nights a week, discussing everything and anything. Your childhood and the contrast between life in a big family like his and a small family like yours. Middle school spelling bees and football games. Embarrassing moments and pivotal ones. Workplace anecdotes and vacation mishaps. Conversation is effortless and you realize that you’ve never experienced that sort of easiness with anyone.

Now, as you lay in your bed, with your head positioned sideways on one of your decorative pillows, you’re pulled away from your reverie by an extended sigh on the other end. “It’s kinda funny, Y/N.”

Your eyebrows crinkle and your eyes flicker to the ceiling. “What’s funny?”

“I mean…we’ve only known each other for what? Three months? And yet I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“It’s because of all this late night talking, Jake,” you say as you grin to yourself, your body humming in contentment.

“And I’ve loved every minute of it, Y/N. I wouldn’t want my nights looking any different,” he replies confidently.

“I didn’t realize you’re the sentimental type, Seresin. A secret softie,” you jest.

“Only for you,” he clarifies in a lower, huskier voice.

The lower register causes your stomach to do somersaults, a sensation you haven’t felt before with Jake, yet it’s an undeniable feeling.

“Can I tell you something else, Y/N?”

“Uh huh.” You gulp as you await his words.

“I’ve never been a fan of change, but…I’d follow you to any place. I like being with you.”

His words settle in, seeping into your skin and taking up space in the hollow parts of yourself that only you know about. His words almost make you forget you ever felt empty at all.

“I like being with you, too. As much as I love our phone calls…I think I might like you next to me better.” Silence follows and you internally wince at your honest declaration. You consider apologizing and taking it back when Jake’s voice greets your ears.

“I can be there in less than twenty,” he says softly.

Relief consumes you and a genuine smile, the only kind of smile you’ve known since Jake entered your life, appears on your face. “See you then.” And for the first time, you don’t experience disappointment when you end your call with Jake, because he’ll soon be with you, where he belongs.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #love is in the air tgm #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction

401 notes · View notes

alilixx · 1 year

Text

fanfic characters x reader

I would also write fanfics about the actors (they are mostly the ones playing the characters on the list)

Here is my list:

Harry Potter:

Severus Snape:

Remus Lupin

Sirius Black

Barty Crouch Jr.

Bellatrix Lestrange

Lucius Malfoy

Character I'm not sure I do:

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Tom Riddle

Regulus Black

Fantastic Beasts:

Albus Dumbledore

Gellert Grindelwald

Minerva McGonagall

Lord Percival Graves

Hogwarts Legacy:

Phineas Nigellus Black

Sebastian Sallow

Aesop Sharp

Mirabel Garlick

Ominis Gaunt

Grand Theft Auto:

Michael De Santa

Trevor Philips

Franklin Clinton

Niko Bellic

Steve Haines

Lester Crest

Agent 14

Naruto:

Kakashi Hatake

Naruto Uzumaki

Sasuke Uchiha

Tsunade

Jiraya

Minato Namikaze

Gaara

Tobirama Senju

Senju Hashirama

Inuzuka Hana

Mitarashi Anko

Darui

Kushina Uzumaki

Kiba Inuzuka

Uchiha Shisui

Yujito Nii

Ôtsutsuki Indra

Ôtsutsuki Asura

Uchiha Obito

Mei Temurî

Boruto:

Naruto Uzumaki

Sasuke Uchiha

Mitsuki

Kawaki

Boruto Uzumaki

Konoha-Maru Sarutobi

Sakura Haruno

The Devil Wears Prada:

Serena

Miranda Priestly

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Yuji Itadori

Utahime Iori

Masamichi Yaga

Inumaki Toge

Okkotsu Yûta

Sheko Ieiri

Yuki Tsukumo

Uraume

Toji Fushiguro

Gong Shi Woo

Atsuya Kusakabe

Ieri Shôko

Zenin Mai

Zenin Maki

Choso

Gojo Satoru

Megumi Fushiguro

Ryomen Sukuna

Mei Mei

Kento Nanami

Assassination Classroom:

Tadaomi Karasuma

Irina Jelavic

Koro Sensei (human)

One piece:

Shanks

Portgas D.Ace

Don Quijote Doflamingo

Roronoa Zoro

Sanji Vinsmoke

Coby

Trafalgar Law

Sabo

Marvel:

Agatha Harkness

Hela

Natasha Romanoff

Tony Stark

Yelena Belova

Loki Laufeyson

Sylvie Laufeydottir

Matt Murdock

May Parker

Scott Lang

Shang Chi

Stephen Strange

Thena

Wanda Maximoff

Xu Wenwu

Marc Spector

Steven Grant

Wednesday:

Larissa Weems

Morticia Addams

Lucifer:

Lucifer Morningstar

Chloe Decker

Mazikeen Smith

Amenadiel

Charlotte Richards

Aurora (Rory) Morningstar

Michael

Sandman:

The Corinthian

Lucifer Morningstar

Desire

Johanna Constantine

Bleach:

Ichigo Kurosaki

Sousuke Aizen

Kuchiki Buyakuya

Coyote Stark

Resident Evil:

Leon S. Kennedy

Chris Redfield

Ashley Graham

Ethan Winters

Carlos Oliveira

Helena Harper

Rosemary Winters

Alcina Dimitrescu

Cassandra Dimitrescu

Daniela Dimitrescu

Bela Dimitrescu

Dr House:

Dr Gregory House

Dr Lisa Cuddy

Dr James Wilson

Dr Alissa Cameron

Dr 13

Two and a Half Men:

Charlie Harper

Walden Schmidt

Judith Harper

Jenny

Politicians:

Emmanuel Macron (French President)

Gabriel Attal (French Prime Minister)

Mathieu Maucort (French Interministerial Delegate)

Jordan Bardella (European Deputy and French President of the RN)

Volodimir Zelensky (Ukranian President)

Justin Trudeau (Canada Prime Minister)

I'M NOT TALK ABOUT MY POLITICAL PARTY OR WHETHER I SUPPORT THEM OR NOT!!! ONLY FOR PHYSICS HUH

Star Wars:

Kylo Ren

Captain Phasma

Din Djarin

Poe Dameron

Valorant:

Chamber

Viper

Reyna

Omen

La Casa De Papel:

Berlin

El Professor

Suárez

My Hero Academia:

Dabi

Shota Aizawa

Nemuri Kayama

Todoroki Shôto

Toga Himiko

Shimura Nana

Chisaki Kai

Attack on titan:

Hanji Zoe

Levi Ackerman

Annie Leonhart

Mikasa Ackerman

Pirates of the caribbean:

Jack Sparrow

Elizabeth Swann

Sweeney Todd:

Sweeney Todd

Mrs. Lovett

Judge Turpin

The Witcher:

Geralt Of Rivia

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Ciri

Kaamelott:

Arthur Pendragon

Léodagan

Bohort

Yvain

Gauvain

Ygerne

Elias de Kelliwic’h

Spy X Family

Loid Forger

Yor Forger

Castlevania

Dracula

Leon Belmont

Alucard

Trevor Belmont

Richard Belmont

Tera

Five Nights at Freddy’s

William Afton

Michael Schmidt

Vanessa Shelly

Satsuriku no Tenshi

Isaac Foster

Haikyuu!!

Yū Nishinoya

Tobio Kageyama

Tetsurō Kuroo

Fugou Keiji: Balance:UNLIMITED

Daisuke Kambe

Haru Katou

Ryo Hosino

Owari no Seraph

Guren Ichinose

Mikaela Hyakuya

Ferid Bathory

Crowley Eusford

Kureto Hiragi

Shinya Hiragi

Horn Skuld

Chess Belle

Rokudenashi Majutsu Koushi to Akashic Records

Glenn Radars

Sistine Fibel

Celica Arfonia

Albert Frazer

Domestic na Kanojo

Hina Tachibana

Rui Tachibana

Masaki Kobayashi

Reiji Kiriya

My new boss is Goofy

Shirosaki Yusei

Mitsuo Aoyama

Kinjo Aigo

Buddy Daddies

Kugi Kyûtarô

Suwa Rei

Kurusu Kazuki

Unasaka Misaki

Other characters

Sakata Gintoki from Gintama

Brienne of Tarth from Game of Thrones by Gwendoline Christie

Hans Gruber from Die Hard by Alan Rickman

Sinclair Bryant from Close my eyes by Alan Rickman

Miranda Hilmarson from Top of the Lake by Gwendoline Christie

Charlie Harper from My Uncle Charlie by Charlie Sheen

Isaac Foster from Angels of Deaths

Link from The Legend Of Zelda

Cereza from Bayonetta

Leonora Lesso from School for Good and Evil by Charlize Theron

Elaine Markinson from Gringo by Charlize Theron

Hannibal Lecter from Hannibal by Mads Mikkelson

Miss Perergrine from Miss Peregrine’s Home for Particular Children by Eva Green

Joel Miller from The Last Of Us by Pedro Pascal

Mr.Cat from Kaeloo

Marc from Le Flambeau by Jonathan Cohen

John Wick from John Wick’s movies by Keanu Reeves

Joe Goldberg from You by Penn Badgley

Crowley from Good Omens by David Tennant

Max Black from 2 Broke girls by Kat Dennings

Tobias from Ghost

#harry potter #severus snape #hermione granger #draco malfoy #howgarts #the witcher #sweeney todd #alan rickman #ghost #young royals #john wick #five nights at freddy's #good omens #the last of us #hannibal #miss peregrine imagine #zelda #others #etc

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aceoflove · 8 months

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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆Hello Darlings!!!⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I'm Bee. I'm a uni student who adores fandoms from across the galaxy

Pronouns: She/Her

I adore writing.

This is my second blog, but I've barely posted my writing anywhere, so I thought why not! I also thought that I could post my art here!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆Fandoms + Characters⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Ask about ships, I will most likely do anything from the fandoms except incest. The ask will be deleted if it breaks those rules/my personal rules

Platonic Only ✯

Set Ship (one that will be present as a background one if appropriate) ۵

𓆸 Marvel:

Tony Stark ۵

Natasha Romanoff

Bruce Banner

Thor

Steve Rogers

Clint Barton

Wanda Maximoff

Pietro Maximoff

Loki

Spider-Man

Peter Quill

Gamora

Nebula

Rocket ✯

Groot ✯

Drax

Mantis

Adam

Cosmo ✯

Kraglin

Kamala Khan

Bruno Carrelli

T'Challa

Shuri

Scott Lang

Sam Wilson

Bucky Barnes

Pepper Potts ۵

Carol Davers

Yelana Belova

Kate Bishop

Shang Chi

𓆸 Narnia:

Edmund

Lucy

Peter

Susan

Caspian

Eustace

Aslan ✯

𓆸 Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

Blaise Zabini

Pansy Parkinson

Luna Lovegood

Ginny Weasley

Neville Longbottom

Oliver Wood

Cedric Diggory

Mattheo Riddle

Regulas Black

Sirius Black ۵

James Potter

Remus Lupin ۵

Lily Evans

I may be inexperienced with writing for some fandoms, but feel free to ask if I do know the fandom!

Ones that I am less confident in, but will write for include:

𓆸 Top Gun (both):

Maverick

Goose ۵

Carole ۵

Iceman

Rooster

Phoenix

Bob

Hangman

Fanboy

Payback

Coyote

𓆸 Across/into the Spider-verse:

Miles Morales (Both)

Hobie Brown

Gwen Stacy

Peter .B

Mayday ✯

Miguel O'Hara

Pavitr Prabhakar

Spider-Noir

Spider-Ham ✯

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆Notes⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𓆸 I can do ships and x reader.

𓆸 I don't do smut.

𓆸 I can do requests, but they maybe a little slow

𓆸 Is this self indulgent.... yes

𓆸 I don't do some AU's, so if I don't do your AU request, I'm sorry

𓆸 I am straight cis and white so I am sorry if I do get representation wrong, I will try to do my research if it is specific and I will ask people around me to get it accurate as possible

𓆸 Please ask if you don't know!

𓆸 I may post OC's and their stories too

𓆸 I am open to talks btw!

Thank you my darlings!

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sarahsmi13s · 2 years

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Footloose

(not my gif)

bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x fem!pilot!reader

characters: bradley bradshaw, the dagger squad, jake ‘hangman’ seresin, javy ‘coyote’ machado, pilot oc “stark” (mentioned), penny benjamin

warnings: fem!reader, language, oc death, insecurites, mentions of cannon danger, accident and injuries (minimal descriptions), if i missed any i apologize

word count: ~3.1k

quick summary: known for the way she dances in the skies, Y/N earned her the name ‘footloose’. (credit to none other than Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin) which she finds incredibly ironic, because she cannot and will not dance on the ground to save her life.

***********

“So, how about we go dancin’ tonight?”

“Hangman, shut the hell up,” you groaned, throwing a scrunched up plastic bottle at him. You were both waiting for your turn to go against Maverick. The blond just laughed and threw the trash back at you.

“Come on, you seriously never dance anymore! When was the last time you danced?” You crossed your arms and looked away from him. “Wait, have you not danced since flight school?” Jake concluded, leaning forward with a smirk, resting his elbow on his knee. “Why?” You shrugged, slightly getting irritated because why is it a big deal to him, “I just don’t feel like it I guess.” “But you were so good at it!” “Can you just drop it, Hangman?”

“Footloose! Hangman! You’re up!” You huffed and got up, leaving Hangman in the dust to get in your plane.

You hastily brushed shoulders with Rooster, muttering a ‘sorry Roo’ as you continued your way.

Bradley looked at Jake confused, “What was that about?” Jake looked at him, opening his mouth to explain, but he just shrugged, not wanting ‘Mother Hen’ to be on his ass. Rooster nodded, accepting his response because you were relatively closed off.

Now, Rooster (well, a lot of people for that matter) had no idea of the irony behind your call sign, he only knew it was because of how you flew.

You also, never planned to tell him, not because Bradley would pressure you into dancing or make fun of you, but because Bradley was the exact type of person to dance no matter what music was on.

And of course like a teen romance movie, that’s what you loved about him. His outgoing and natural performing personality, that he definitely inherited from his parents, drew in people like no other.

You knew it was ridiculous to think the difference in your personalities would repel the pilot from ever liking you romantically. It was hard not to sometimes. But, you know, like they say, opposites attract.

And damn, was Bradley attracted to you. He admired the way you flew. That if you were out with the squad you made sure everyone was comfortable and felt included. You also could light up a room and you threw quips back at Hangman that he stumbled to retort.

How could he not like you?

**********

With a surprise storm grounding everyone, you all went to the Hard Deck.

You all were in civilian clothes, your hair thrown up into a messy bun and still soaking wet with both sweat and rain. “At least we got our training in before the rain hit,” Hangman said, clapping you on the shoulder. You nodded, a playful smirk on your lips as you sipped your drink, “Yeah, but we were 100 pushups in when it did hit.”

Rooster chuckled from across the pool table. You playfully glared at him, “What’s so funny Bradshaw?” He shook his head, “I’ve seen you run miles in the rain, Footloose. You love the rain.” You huffed out a laugh, a smile playing on your lips.

He was right after all. You grew up in a place where rain didn’t happen often, but when it did happen, it was for multiple days and you loved to sit on your porch and just watch it hit the highway and create puddles in the grass. If you were on a walk or run and got caught in the rain, you didn’t rush to get back home; unless of course it was a downpour and you couldn’t see two feet in front of you.

You nodded your head and tipped your beer bottle to him, “Got me there, Rooster.” “Hell, I bet you dance in the rain!”

Jake choked on his drink, causing everyone to look at him.

“You good, Hangman?” Coyote asked, patting his friend on the back. “Yeah,” he met your eyes, the pleading look making him shake his head. “Yeah, I’m good.” The relaxing of your eyebrows and jaw told him you were grateful for him keeping your secret. (not that it was a big deal)

*******

As the early afternoon turned into early evening, the rain did not let up.

Nobody had really come in given the weather, so it was the squad and a handful or two of regulars.

You all played pool and drank here and there. You were currently perched on a window sill watching the rain.

“You look lonely.” You jump slightly, having been lost in the sound of the rain hitting the window. You turned to see Rooster leaning on the window, a small smile on his face as he looked at you.

You smiled and leaned forward rested your chin on your knee, “I was ‘til you came along.” Bradley chuckled and shook his head, hoping his tan and slight sunburn from this morning hid his blush. “I’m honored.” You smiled at him and looked back out the window.

Rooster kept his gaze on you. “Calming isn’t it?” He hummed, “Yeah, sure is.” “Nothing lulls me to sleep quite like a good rain.” He nodded, “Is it the noise?” “Sure is. If it’s too quiet my head feels heavy and my ears feel clogged.” “So that’s why you have a fan,” Rooster chuckled and looked out the window. You laughed, “That’s exactly why I have a fan.”

You and Rooster sat in silence, just watching the rain and some lightning way off in the distance. But, the lights flickering drew you both to look back towards Penny, who was looking up at the lights. “That’s not good.” Then both the lights and music cut out, eliciting a groan from everyone in the bar.

You watched Rooster eye the piano, a grin forming on his face. “Well, don’t keep them waiting, Rooster. Get over there,” you chuckled as you shoved him to the piano. He laughed as well, jogging the rest of the way.

Everyone cheered as Rooster sat down, stretching his fingers and testing random keys. You leaned back against the window, smiling as the music sounded in the bar.

*********

Rooster made it through 4 songs before the power flickered back on. The mustached pilot stood on the bench and bowed, relishing in the calls of his name before hopping off and making his way back over to you.

“Enjoy the show?” You raised an eyebrow playfully, “You could say that.” Hangman and Coyote made their way over to the pool table by the window you and Rooster were at.

“Either of you guys wanna play?” You both shook your heads, “I wouldn’t want to bruise that precious ego of yours, Jake.” The two friends just shrugged and Hangman added an eye roll, racking up the balls and starting their slightly tipsy game of pool.

A song that was queued up caught your attention and apparently caught Bradley’s as well. He held a hand out to you, “Care to dance?” He nodded toward the dance floor where people had begun to dance to Take My Breath Away.

Your words hitched in your throat, “Well, uh-” Your flush ran up your neck to your ears.

“Oh Bradshaw, didn’t you hear-” Hangman’s words accompanied by a series of giggles caused your stomach to drop. But before you could stop him-

“Footloose doesn’t dance.”

You looked at Jake, anger flashing in your eyes before turning to Rooster, fear extinguishing the anger. Was he going to make fun of you? Was he going to ask a million questions that you didn’t want to answer?

You thought, ‘Screw it.’ And walked past Rooster to go outside and down to the beach.

Rooster was just confused, tilting his head like a puppy. Did he hear that right? “Wait, what did you say?”

Hangman swallowed the gulp of beer in his mouth. “Footloose doesn’t- shit, you weren’t supposed to know about that…” Rooster scoffed, “Why does it matter if I know about her not dancing?”

Coyote raised an eyebrow, “Um, Rooster, have you met yourself? You dance all the time, you sang your heart out less than 10 minutes ago.” “Also, Footloose is like majorly in love with you. So she figured that, since you’re so outgoing and always dancing, which is kinda obnoxious… she was scared you’d make fun of her. Even though, to be honest, you’ve never been that type of guy.” Jake was just spilling all your secrets at this point.

Rooster smirked, “Wait, was that a compliment?” “Don’t hold your breath, it’s the only one you’re getting.”

Bradley shook his head, chuckling a little before a frown of realization settled on his face. “Why would I make fun of her? I literally couldn’t care less if she danced or not.”

Jake just shrugged, “Just don’t tell anyone I told you, alright Chicken? Same goes for you too.” The blond poked Coyote in the chest with his pool cue, “No one was supposed to know. I can’t have the one pilot that somewhat tolerates me being pissy at me.” The two nodded, Javy making a zipper motion over his lips.

“Do you know why she doesn’t dance?” Jake shrugged, “When I met her in flight school she’d dance every once in a while, usually when she was drinking. But by the time we met back up at Top Gun, she barely talked about dancing.” “So quite literally like the movie?” Javy asked, suddenly just as intrigued as Bradley.

Jake pinched his nose, “I don’t know. Maybe, I don’t know how religious she is. She’s never talked about it. Not like I haven’t pried, cause of course I have, but she just shoots me down.” Bradley nodded, looking out the window, seeing you standing in the rain. “Shit, she’s gonna get sick.”

Rooster jogged to the door and outside, “Footloose! Footloose!” He groaned and picked up pace when you didn’t respond.

“Y/N,” he grabbed your shoulder. “Hey, let’s get you inside. You’re gonna get sick.” You shook your head, “Roost, I’m fine.”

He moved his eyes to where your hands were rubbing the goosebumps on your arms. “You’re cold,” he observed aloud. When you didn’t move, not even to look at him, he stepped in front of you.

“Hangman told me everything…” You bit your lip, nodding, “Pretty embarrassing, huh?” Rooster frowned again, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so…” You just shivered in response and he wrapped you in a hug.

He sighed before saying, “I’m sorry if I ever made you think I would make fun of you for not dancing. I would never do that. I couldn’t care less if you danced or not.” You sighed and slid your arms under his Hawiian shirt, “I know. Just with past experiences-”

“Those people were assholes. It’s none of their business whether or not you dance. Why would that ever be a deal breaker? Cause it certainly isn’t a deal breaker for me…” The last part was muffled by your hair as Rooster planted a small kiss on your head.

You pulled back and he was afraid he said something wrong. But his nerves melted away when you gave him a small smile, even when it didn’t quite reach your eyes yet. He gave you a smile back and moved some hair out of your face, “I’m kinda glad Hangman spilled that little secret.” Your brows pulled together, “What do you mean?” Rooster stretched his back slightly, bobbing his head to the side slightly, “Cause now I can do this.”

Bradley captured your lips and you kissed back with little hesitation.

He could taste the rain that had been running down your face and you could taste the remnants of his alcohol from earlier. Your fingers gripped his black undershirt and pulled him closer. The hand that had rested on your face moved to hold your bicep and the arm still wrapped around your shoulders pulled you onto your tippy toes, allowing you to deepen the kiss.

When you both pulled away, Rooster still held you on your toes and your hands rested on his ribs. “Bradley Bradshaw,” you said, voice slightly raspy from the intense kiss. “Yes, Honey?” “I’ve never been kissed like that before… Do it again.” The brunette happily obliged, “Yes, ma’am.” You smiled and giggled as he kissed you in the rain. It was so cliche but neither of you seemed to care.

You pulled away again, this time he placed you back on your feet. You smiled, “I’m gonna have to thank Jake later.” You felt him tense slightly at the mention of Hangman, but before you could voice it, Bradley spoke. “I’m sure I would have gotten to you eventually.” He planted a loud kiss on your wet forehead.

You close your eyes and smile at the feeling before looking him in his eyes. “You want to ask me, don’t you?” You could see the need for answers swimming in his eyes, but you knew he wouldn’t push it. He just cleared his throat, “Let’s go inside, yeah?” You studied him for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, we don’t need the two best pilots getting sick now do we?”

You walked back to the bar, you tucked right under his arm, your hand intertwined with the one on your shoulder.

As soon as you stepped in, Penny was right there with towels. “You idiots, get in here,” she said with a stern look, but you could hear the laugh behind it; much like a mother scolding her teens that knew better.

“Get in front of the heater.” She ushered you both toward the shop heater, and gave you each another towel. You thanked her and she nodded, patting you both on the knee while giving you a wink.

Rooster laughed as he dried his face and neck, “You think she saw?” You pulled your hair out of the bun, “I think everyone did.” You shook your hair. “Dude!” You laughed at Rooster's shocked expression. He smiled and shook his hair, flinging water everywhere much like you had.

“Hey, Y/N.” You looked up, wiping your face, “Yeah, Jake?” “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I don’t know why I-” “Jake, it’s fine. Plus, it wasn’t the only thing you seemed to spill to him.” Jake cringed, “Yeah, but hey! You guys are together now, so you’re welcome!” He clapped his hands together. “Am I-” “Forgiven? Yeah, I guess, but you buy my rounds for a week.” He nodded, “Done.”

You stood up and he knew what you were about to do. “Y/N-” He took a step back. “Hold on. This is a new shirt.” “I think he deserves it!” Javy said from the pool table.

Jake looked back at him and you pounced. “AH! Okay, okay!” He groaned and hugged you back. “And to think Fitch is ‘Payback’,” he looked down at his damp shirt. You just patted his shoulder and sat back down with Rooster, watching him run the towel over his hair.

He stopped and looked at you, not even looking as his hand found yours with ease. You smiled, this time it reached your eyes, and you laid your head on his shoulder.

Rooster bunched the towel in his hands. “Why don’t you dance? You don’t have to answer, it’s just Hangman said you danced all the time in flight school.” You sighed and he was quick to reiterate that you didn’t have to tell him.

“No, no. It’s okay.” Your other hand played with his thumb that had begun rubbing your knuckle.

“It was right out of flight school when I was going on a mission. My engine got taken out, and we were already too close to the hard deck for comfort and before I could even start trying to save the plane, the other engine started to go. My RIO and I had to eject, but if we wanted rescue we needed to be out of enemy territory. So, I pushed as hard as I could, getting just into friendly territory when the engine went out completely. Both of us knew we couldn’t save it so we ejected immediately.” Rooster nodded, listening as intently as he could.

Your breathing shuddered before you began and he moved his arm to rest around you. “But it wasn’t soon enough, we didn’t get far enough away and the explosion sent hot shrapnel into my legs.” Rooster always wondered where those scars on your legs came from.

“When we hit the ground, we passed out from the impact.” You shook your head, swallowing, “By the time I woke back up, I was being hauled onto the rescue chopper and Stark was right next to me, just fine. I was rushed into surgery and by the time I woke up from that, I was informed that when Stark landed she broke some ribs, which caused internal bleeding and they couldn’t stop it in time…” Bradley pressed a kiss to your temple, “I’m so sorry.”

You swallowed and wiped the tear that escaped, “After my stitches were removed I started physical therapy. I was told I’d never walk, much less fly, again. But I proved them wrong, I mean look at me. I graduated from Top Gun for heaven's sake. I just focused so damn hard to walk and run better than I could before my accident, I forgot how to dance. It seems ridiculous, I know, but it’s true.”

You chuckled humorlessly, “It’s like my brain seemed to push dance moves to the bottom file cabinet drawer and my legs just can’t do the moves.”

Bradley squeezed your shoulder, “Thank you for sharing that with me. And I know you definitely still have some rhythm because you alway tap your fingers and bob your head on occasion.” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, “I do?” His jaw dropped, “Wait, how did you not- you seriously never realized you do that?”

You shook your head, astonishment on your face and it reminded Bradley of a child that learned they could do a really cool trick. He smiled and booped your nose, “You’re fucking adorable.” He smile widened when your nose crinkled at his touch.

As you stared up at him you got an idea, “Rooster, you big stud?” The man’s heart jumped up in his chest, “That’s me, Honey.” You smiled, eyes glancing down at the scar on his neck as your index finger traced it, “Will you teach me how to dance?” “I show you my moves, Honey.” He dipped down and captured you in a kiss.

***********

hey look at that! you’re still here! thank you for reading! <33

i know this idea is a little silly but i thought it was cute

and i’m very willing to write a part 2 to this if you guys want

tags <3: @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

thank you for being here babes <33

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #x reader #pilot!reader #footloose #miles teller

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reaperintheroses · 2 years

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Robins Drabble December Character List!

Any of the pilots with speaking roles from Top Gun (except Maverick, Cyclone, Warlock) Rhett Abbot (Outer Range)

Any of the Avengers, Loki, Yelena, Peter Parker, Marc Spector and Steven Grant, Dare Devil, Punisher (Basically just send me an ask about marvel characters lmao)

Any DC Character featured last year

(Any other character who you think I would know and I'll let you know if I do)

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thestarspangledcaptain · 8 months

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Who/What I Will Write For!

Warning: Mini Essay Ahead

Please Note: If you are requesting, I would prefer if you gave me the desired pronouns for the reader/character!

What I Can / Would Be Comfortable Writing & Or What Topics I Will Cover:

AUs

Expansion of plot lines

Writing for established couples

Reader inserts

Y/N

Any type of romance trope

Platonic relationships

Sibling relationships

Parent relationships (including certain characters as your parent)

Magical beings

Powers

One shots and multi part imagines

LGBTQIA + characters and readers

LGBTQIA + romance

Plot line changes, time changes

Non canonical couples

Canonical couples

Non canon friendships and canon friendships

Small age gaps (when writing for older characters I will made ages fitting with the character) ex: Tony stark. WARNING: If the age gap makes the characters have a legal adult and minor relationship (w the exception of a senior and junior in high school type of thing)

Certain characters (non lgbtq) in lgbtq relationships. For example Natasha Romanoff is a lesbian relationship.

Writings inspired by a song. (I have written work planned out already)

Any shapes and sizes

Angst

Fluff

More steamy scenes (prob up to third base