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matsbarzal · 3 years ago

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fluff #12 with barzy :)

fluff #12. couldn't imagine my life without you

word count: 1.6k pairing: mat barzal x reader

Mathew Barzal knew how to throw a party. He knew what beer to get, he knew what food to order, the people to invite, Mat knew how to plan a party for his friends. God, he even knew how to plan a party for his family.

But, Mathew Barzal did not know how to plan an anniversary.

He had begged you for a hint, any indication of how you wanted to spend your two-year anniversary. The Islander’s forward would send you Pinterest links daily, Instagram posts when he found them, anything he could find that may encourage you to give him some hint of how you wanted to spend your special day.

You had planned the entire anniversary dinner the year prior, just something for the two of you, nothing serious or dramatic for your first anniversary together as a couple. Mat loved it, loved the privacy and the intimacy of the date you had planned, loved how much effort you put into him and the gift you bought him. It could have been a date to McDonald’s, and he still would’ve loved every second of it.

“Baby… do you like this resort? Tito said the Bahamas are beautiful this time of year, and him and Em stayed in this resort last summer.”

Taking the offered phone from his hand, you scrolled through the page on the screen. It was a gorgeous resort, a popular one from the looks of it, definitely a resort you wouldn’t necessarily mind getting the chance to visit one day.

“It’s gorgeous, but not for our anniversary. I don’t want you having to do anything extreme, Mat, honestly. Dinner and a movie would be perfect, as long as I get to spend the day with you.”

Pouting at you, his only response was a quick press of his lips to the side of your head before making his way back into the living room, mumbling under his breath something that you couldn’t hear.

Hearing your phone ding from beside you, you picked it up to peer at the message that appeared on the screen. Since when did Anthony text you?

Please say yes to something before I lose my mind. Mat can’t plan shit, and I can only replan your anniversary so many times. I’m begging, I have a life pls just say yes

Laughing at the text message on screen, your reply back was a simple shrug emoji. You knew Mat had been utilizing his best friend and his girlfriend, trying to plan the most perfect day for your anniversary, but you wanted Mat to plan something he’d enjoy, something that would make him just as happy as it would make you. And he knew that, but he was always one to put your feelings and your happiness above his own.

anything he plans will be perfect, go back to barking or sum tito

Two weeks had panned out in between Anthony and Mat bothering you for ideas, and the actual date of the anniversary. Since telling Tito that anything planned would be perfect, neither man had pestered you about it, opting to disregard any mention of the anniversary or the event in question.

You knew Mat had something planned, his phone slamming down on the couch whenever you passed behind him, or his laptop screen slamming shut every time you got close enough. You had debated sneaking around, trying to figure out what he had planned, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise he had obviously worked so hard on.

“I planned everything down to the last little thing. Your outfit is on the bed in our room, we have to be ready to go by exactly 5:59, any earlier and we’ll be too early, any later and we’ll be late… and I can’t be late.”

Laughing at the rush of words ripping out of his mouth, you squeezed his arm gently as you moved past him and towards your shared bedroom, eyeing the outfit he had laid out on the bed for you. It was a cute outfit, completely your style, but you couldn’t determine any indication of what your boyfriend had planned from the outfit alone.

At precisely 5:59, you allowed Mat to usher you out the door and towards his car, mumbling about how ‘Tito was going to kill him if we were late’, which proceeded to confuse you even more.

“Plan on telling me where we’re going anytime soon?” Shaking his head, all Mat did was grin as he looked towards you.

You watched the houses go by the closer and closer you assumed you were getting to the destination, the area getting more and more familiar the further you drove. Pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of Mat putting the car in park, you eyed the familiar house to your left, a curious glint in your eyes.

“Anders?”

“You’ll see when we get in the backyard, I promise.”

Expecting to be surprised with a multitude of his teammates and your friends, you were shocked to see an empty backyard when Mat released the latch on the gate, the trees glistening in the wind as the almost-empty backyard stared right back at you. A table was placed in the middle of the patio stones, fairy lights wrapped around the edge, the patio chairs pulled out and awaiting the two of you, a bottle of champagne laid in a bucket of ice on the top of the table.

“Anders said I could use his backyard… ya know, cause like… our balcony doesn’t really have much space.”

Laughing in understanding at his words, you allowed him to guide you towards the table, pulling your chair back and then gently pushing you in once you were completely seated. He immediately jumped to the opposite seat, his chair squealing against the ground when he pushed himself in.

“I—”

“I can’t believe you made me buy a whole tuxedo for this, I swear to God, I could’ve done this in sweats.”

Swiveling your body around to look at the source of the voice, Anthony Beauvillier stared back at you, a large grin etched on his face. Decked out in full waiter-attire, and two adorning plates in his hand, you couldn’t contain the grin that slowly started to make its way across your face at the sight.

“Oh yeah, laugh it up, ha ha ha. Just wait until my anniversary, you two are going all out.”

A middle finger from Mat, and a polite thank-you on your behalf were the only responses to Anthony as he made his back towards the sliding doors of Anders Lee’s house, a pep in his step the closer he got to the glass.

Focused solely on the man in front of you, the conversation flowed like it always did, Mathew explaining how he had planned out the entire dinner, what food was going to be made, what dessert, the fact that there were still plans for after and that this was just the beginning. You talked about your day, the last year of your relationship, all the positive ways in which you both constantly demonstrated your love for one another.

You didn’t notice Mat’s hand reaching into the pocket of his coat, his utensils disposed of on the tablecloth in front of you, his palms sweaty as he tried to gently wipe them against his pants without alerting you to any movements.

“I… I wanted to talk to you about something,” quirking your eyes at the sound of his voice and the statement he made, you urged him to continue with a slight tilt of your head.

His chair squealed against the patio stones for the second time that night as he clumsily stood up from his chair, moving around the table so he could grab your hand and pull you from your seat.

“Y/N… I… you’ve been my best friend for the last two years. The person I could come to whenever I needed someone, the one who’s always there for me after a good day, or a bad day. The person who I can depend on for everything, there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t fall in love with you a little more. You stole my heart two years ago, and I have no regrets in the world about you, or my love for you.”

Trying to contain the tears that were threatening to fall, you watched as Mat’s knee dropped out below him, the hand that was in his pocket before now laid out in front of you, the closed jewelry box covering his palm.

“I promise you; no one will work harder to make you happy or cherish you more than I will. I’ll be the man you deserve and more, I know that no one will ever hold my heart the way you do, and I never want another person to. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. Y/N, will you marry me?”

You couldn’t keep the tears at bay as your hand slapped itself across your mouth, the shock and joy at his words taking over every fiber of your being as you aggressively nodded your head, the words muffled behind your hand as Mat’s eyes glistened with unshed tears in your direction.

“A million times, yes. Yes!”

His lips were pressed to yours in a heartbeat, his hand that wasn’t holding the jewelry box cupping your cheek as the tears fell from both of your eyes. His eyes opened to bore into yours, a look of joy etched across his face as he felt the emotions finally takeover.

note: this ended up being a bit more than a blurb... but oh well! thank you for sending one in, and i hope you like it!! <3

#mat barzal #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl drabble #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal drabble #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey blurb #hockey drabble #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #hockey imagine #nhl blurbs #nhl drabbles #hockey blurbs #hockey drabbles #dj's august prompt list

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niemernuet · 2 years ago

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I'll miss week 24 of osws by one day. Again. It's turning into a habit... It may have happened bc I was distracted by a dastardly prompt from @wunderlichkind, so I blame you. 😡 (jk, I love it). It's very, very loosely based on another ficlet about shaving.

What grows in Argentina better stay in Argentina

rating: M pairing: Daniel Yule/Justin Murisier characters: Daniel Yule, Justin Murisier, Loïc Meillard, Marco Odermatt length: 900 words

“Show me the sunset!”

Justin rolled his eyes. “You know what a sunset looks like. Also you’re evading the question.”

“But I want to see the sunset!”

Justin groaned, and revealed the underside of his nose to Daniel as he stood up from the couch, and made his way towards the balcony. Once he was outside he switched cameras, raised the tablet, and held it up towards the sharp peaks.

“Satisfied?”

Daniel’s smile and the string of ‘ooooh’s and ‘aaaah’s told him the answer, and he smiled fondly at his boyfriend. He let it go on for a few seconds before he switched to the front camera again.

“Ooooh, that one’s also breathtaking,” Daniel said without missing a beat, and laid his hand over his heart..

Justin futilely tried to suppress the smile and the flush creeping over his cheeks. “Stop that!” he scolded. “You know I’m cross with you! Stop trying to deflect!” He walked back inside, and closed the door on the mountains of Chile. Daniel, a few thousand kilometres south, stayed in his place, a comfortable deck chair somewhere on a patio.

“Last time you said you liked it.”

“Because it was for charity, and you shaved it off after a month!” Justin exclaimed.

“I remember quite distinctly that you called it ‘very beautiful’ on social media!”

“Of course I wouldn’t write that it’s absolutely terrible!”

Daniel sighed, though his grin was obvious. Clearly he enjoyed their little game. Justin could not retort though because in that moment, somebody joined him in the common room.

“Have you seen my charger somew…oh, is that Daniel?” Without waiting for an answer, Marco jumped over he backrest of the couch, and plopped down next to Justin.

“Hi Daniel! Love your new ‘stache.”

“Don’t encourage him!” Justin yelled.

Daniel proudly stroked his forefinger and thumb over the small patch of hair above his lips. “Thank you, that is very kind. How are things in Chile?”

“Cool!” Marco answered. “Why did I have to take a picture of Justin with a pineapple on his head on the first evening here?”

Daniel laughed but before he could answer, something in the background made him turn around.

“Dinner’s ready…oh, is that…hi!” The camera moved a bit to the right, and suddenly an excited Loïc waved at them. He knelt down next to Daniel’s chair, and soon they were both visible again.

“Did you already show the sunset?”

Justin sighed, and switched the cameras once more. This time, however, he did not stand up from the couch.

“Whoa…” Loïc breathed. “I’m so jealous of you. It’s such a shame none of you know how to take a good picture.”

“Thanks,” Justin deadpanned, and turned the camera back again.

“You haven’t answered my question yet,” Marco said. “Was it something sexual?”

The camera wobbled as Daniel broke down laughing.

“Not as long as that thing’s in his face, no,” Justin answered in his stead.

“The moustache?” Loïc asked.

“No, the pineapple,” Marco answered.

“I think it looks quite dashing,” Loïc added.

“Not you too!” Justin exclaimed.

“I mean, as long as it stays in Argentina…” Marco said, and looked at Justin.

“I don’t know,” Daniel said, “I quite like it….would be a pity to leave it here.”

Justin threw his head back in exasperation.

“You know, we really should go to dinner,” Loïc piped up.

“I understand,” Daniel said, and stood up from the chair. “You’ve heard him, we have to go.”

“Also, as a last tip,” Loïc added from off-camera, “shaving can be something very sensual. You know, in case it does leave Argentina.”

“Goodbye!” Justin yelled, and ended the call. “Please tell me we’re having dinner too, I need…” He broke off when he saw Marco’s beet red head.

“Ahm…still a few minutes out,” Marco answered, and hastily stood up from the couch. “Okay, I’ll be…”

“Why are your cheeks glowing?”

“They’re not!” he said sharply. “I’m going to look for my charger. See you later.”

-----

“You did not seriously listen to Loïc, right? Because I am definitely not going to shave you.”

Daniel rolled his eyes, and walked with his toilet bag towards the bathroom. “Of course not. Though he did try to give me helpful tips several times…that man knows no boundaries.”

Justin cackled. “He’s your problem now.”

Daniel snorted, and put the things in the bag back where they belonged. Justin walked past the open door with a pair of sneakers. When he returned, Daniel stood still in front of the mirror, shaving cream in one hand, razor in the other.

“Hurry up!” Justin urged, and took another pile of clothes out of his bag. “The faster this thing under your nose is gone, the faster we can get to the important stuff.”

Daniel looked at the utensils in his hands, then at his mirror image again. “I don’t know…would it really be that bad if I left it?”

“YES!” Justin yelled from the living room.

“It’s kinda grown on me,” Daniel muse. “I think it makes me look sophisticated.”

“Counterargument!” Justin said from the next room over.

Daniel waited but other than silence, nothing followed.

“Yes?” he asked. He turned around but could not take one step because in that moment, Justin appeared in the door.

Completely naked.

With blatant hunger Daniel stared at his boyfriend.

“Compelling,” he admitted with his eyes glued to Justin’s half-hard dick.

“Thought so,” Justin said. “If you need me, I’ll be in the bedroom.”

It was a wonder Daniel did not cut himself with the speed he shaved his moustache off, and barely two minutes later he stormed into the bedroom, and tackled Justin on the bed.

“Welcome back,” Justin panted between urgent, needy kisses. “I’ve missed you.”

Daniel left Justin’s lips, and wandered further down his jaw until he found his earlobe, and bit down. Justin moaned, and reflexively jerked his hips when Daniel’s hand wrapped around his dick.

“I’ve missed you too,” Daniel growled.

#alpine skiing #justiel #sports rpf #rpf #text #mine

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djarinbarnes · 4 years ago

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me olvidarás - three

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: charming javi. (again, yes he needs his own warning) kissing. dry humping. fingering. flirting. again, doubtful javi. talk about sex. a little angst. but a lot of fluff.

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: more slowburn, yet a little action. 😏

previous chapter · series masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The hours that pass after that are excruciatingly long, and you find yourself bored out of your mind. You have a small garden that connects your parents’ rented apartment to yours, and that’s where you spend the most of your hours.

Your trusty, worn-out copy of Jane Eyre is in your hands, and you’re nearing the halfway mark again. With sunglasses resting on your nose, you can get away with occasionally dozing off, your parents probably not even having noticed you weren’t at home all night.

Under the stinging rays of the sun you lay, finding comfort in your book as you miss Javi. Missing a stranger. How pathetic, you think to yourself and mentally condemn yourself to hell for 1. Falling in love with a devilishly handsome stranger that 2. Is pushing 40.

You can’t believe you let it come to this, no matter how good it felt. Somehow, with Javi, it felt right. You couldn’t explain why, but there was just something about his aura that captivated you and held you prisoner.

You knew you wanted to know more about him. You wanted to know everything. You wanted to feel him, all of him. And you knew now, that Javi was the one you were losing your virginity to, no matter what it took you.

Now, some may say that losing your virginity to a stranger you’ve met on some vacation is one of the stupidest things you could do, but right now you didn’t really care. You couldn’t care less about what other people thought of what was right and wrong, because you knew this felt right for you.

You reach over and take the soda by your side, sipping the sugary beverage into your mouth through the straw. You sigh and put the soda back on the table, the book following it. You lean back and let your skin soak up the rays of uv you so desperately need.

You don’t know how long you’re asleep for, but you’re startled awake by banging on your front door. You quickly sit up and gather yourself, before pulling your robe around your body, the flimsy material barely covering your skin.

You open the front door reluctantly, not really sure if you’re awaiting a visit from someone. Your head is cloudy from falling asleep in the sun, and you mentally cheer at the fact that you’re not sunburnt.

In front of you stands Javi, a tidy bouquet in hand. Your lips tug into a wide smile as you swiftly pull the sunglasses off your face, watching as Javi gulps at your undressed state. Bikini and a robe - he didn’t expect you to open your door like this. He really didn’t… And yet there you were. Even more beautiful than this morning.

You watch as he extends the hand with the bouquet towards you. He’s bought you roses. It’s your first ever bouquet of flowers, and they’re bigger than any roses you’ve ever seen before. Red, voluminous and just downright beautiful.

“I saw these and thought of you.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken there’s a slight blush littering his cheeks. You couldn’t have seen that right. Maybe he was just shocked that you weren’t really dressed.

“Oh my god, Javi they’re absolutely breathtaking!” You take them from his hands and bring them to your nose, inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers. “Thank you so much.” You lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek before you turn on your heel.

“Come on in. I have no idea if vases exist in these apartments, otherwise I guess a glass will do…” you say as you rummage through the different cabinets in the kitchen, before making your way through the sparse living room before finally coming up with something that you figured was supposed to be a vase.

You watch him through your lashes as he takes uneasy steps around your apartment, looking at every little painting on the walls and books forgotten in the unsubstantial shelf, supposedly a bookcase. You set the roses in the filled vase on the small table in the middle of the apartment, before peeling your robe off your shoulders and placing it on one the chairs, before you make your way into your bedroom to change into something more comfortable.

You knew Javi watched you as you basically stripped in front of him, but you wanted to tease him. You were hoping that he would give in and possibly sleep with you if you teased him enough. He was a man, after all. And men had desires, after all.

You found a flowy summer dress, forgoing a bra since it was already a little tight around your bust. You swiped on a coat of mascara, mentally cursing yourself to the devil when you accidentally hit the bridge of your nose with the wand.

Understandably though, since your hands were shaking. You hadn’t even noticed before now. You quickly get rid of the black mark before you gather your lip balm from your bag, bringing it along with you this time if you were lucky enough to place more kisses upon the man in the living room.

His eyes followed you as you walked out of your bedroom and over to your handbag, putting the small container into the bag. You drape it over your shoulder and turn to him with a smile.

“Alright. I’m ready to see Bogotá through the eyes of you.” You walk up to him and he swiftly pulls you in for a determined kiss. Your arms automatically wrap around his next as you deepen the kiss slightly, pushing your body against his to have him closer.

His tongue glides over your bottom lip again, taking you back to the night before. You feel your heart pick up the pace at the thought. His hands are on your waist, drawing you impossibly closer. You feel the heat radiating off his body, and you figure it’s from the scorching heat of the Colombian afternoon sun. Maybe mixed with a little bit of desire. Hopefully a little bit of desire.

You whimper against his lips as his hands tighten on your hips, his fingers digging slightly painfully into your muscles. It’s a good kind of painful, though. It lights your nerve endings on fire, just like his touch did yesterday. There’s an urgency in the way he’s kissing you, almost like he was craving you as much you were craving him.

His hands are rough as they slide up your sides, swiftly coming around your upper arms to hold you out in front of him, your lips still perked as if he was kissing you, the swift breakage of your intimate moment making your erratically beating heart thud uncomfortably in your chest.

“We need to go. I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you if we do this much longer.” He breathes, and you can easily see the conflicting feelings battling away behind his hooded eyes. You lean into him again, forcing yourself out of his grip to place another kiss on his lips.

“I don’t want you to hold back.” You whisper against his lips, before you pull away and make your way to the door leading out to the small garden between your parents’ apartment and yours, which hadn’t been fully closed. “But we can do that later. Don’t need my parents to see anything,” you cast a smirk back in his direction, before sliding it open fully, walking over a small patio to locate your parents.

“Mom, dad, I’m going out. I won’t be home for dinner, alright?” you smile when you find them. Your dad is asleep in the shade of a balcony extending over the garden. Your mom is reading her usual magazine, and you know she’s deeply invested in whatever Doctor-Sexy novel that’s found its way into the magazine this time when she doesn’t protest.

Normally they would be against you going out alone in a city you barely knew, but you had spent most of the day yesterday checking out the city after your arrival, where normal people would’ve probably been tired after a flight like that.

But you weren’t - quite the contrary though. You had been full of energy and determination as you’d dressed yourself in your most comfortable hiking shoes that you’d packed with the knowledge that Bogotá was located on the high plateau of the Andes.

You loved exploring - a lot. In the span of a few hours, you’d found more than enough small taverns, shops and restaurants you wanted to visit in the three weeks you were staying in Bogotá. When the sun had gotten too warm and the air too humid, you’d gone home, taken a shower and changed clothes - and you know what happened then. Something with a handsome stranger.

You had no idea where Javi was taking you, and it almost felt too good to be true. It felt like a literal fairytale, being swept off your feet by a handsome, older stranger who brought you flowers and complimented you on your looks, even though you barely knew one another.

Maybe it was the Colombian custom, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. It was a whole new world for you, to actually feel interest from the opposite sex - well, not exactly new, but the whole reciprocation of feelings that you were sure was there.

He even opened the door for you, watching you as you slid into the passenger’s seat of his car. He’s quickly on the other side of the car, seating himself in the driver’s seat. When the car roars to life, the sound of the engine finally manages to drown out the sound of your heart beating in your chest. You admire him as he pushes the sunglasses resting on his dashboard onto his nose.

It was so exciting and scary at the same time, going out with Javi in a city you barely knew. You hoped that he would show you something extraordinary, but you literally had no idea what he had planned for the two of you. You watched the small apartments slowly turn into nothing else but landscape, and it dawned on you that he was taking you out of the city.

“Okay, so I guess I’m not going to see Bogotá today, huh?” you tease as you turn your body toward him. You watch as his lips tug into a smile as he casts a look at your bared legs, the soft swell of your chest under the flower-patterned dress you were wearing.

He noticed the air condition had made goosebumps rise on your skin and pebbled your nipples, letting him know you hadn’t put on a bra. God fucking damn it. He felt his pants tightening over his hips, and he mentally cursed himself to the devil. God, you were really going to be the death of him.

You watched as his hands tightened around the steering wheel, and you cast your eyes down his body. You bit your lip as you noticed the slight bulge in his pants. It was like a lightbulb going off over your head as you pushed the seatbelt strap under your right arm before leaning over the middle console slightly, placing your mouth right against his ear.

“See something you like, Javi?”

You watch as goosebumps rise on the skin beneath his ear, all the way down his neck. You look over his shoulder to take in the area of his crotch again, watching him twitch slightly. You bit your lip, overthinking a possible plan that wouldn’t distract him too much.

You slowly let your hand follow his front, all the way down to rest against the hard cock in his pants. You very much enjoyed the fact that you had this effect on him. You heard him draw in a deep breath of air as your hand finally came in contact with him, and you watched as his eyes fluttered slightly.

“What are you doing, hermosa…” you can hear he’s short of breaths, and it makes your heart do a slight flip. It turns you on, knowing the effect you have on him. Maybe it turns him on as well - knowing you’re aroused and willing to tease the living shit out of him.

“Eyes on the road, Javi…” you whisper in his ear as he tugs his lip in between his teeth, your hand moving over his bulge with gentle strokes. You tug his earlobe into your mouth, sucking on the soft flesh before you lick up the outside of his ear with a firm tongue. He lets out a moan as his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

You place a kiss on his tragus, then his cheekbone before peppering kisses down his jaw. You reach the column of his throat, placing small kisses over his pulse point, feeling the way his pulse is beating erratically under the soft, tan skin. Your hand is still moving in gentle circles, his breath languid as he’s still watching the road.

“Does this turn you on, Javi?” you whisper into his ear and he nods with a gulp. You smile as you go back to kissing his neck, hearing the way his breathing got caught in his throat again. You barely feel it when he brings the car to a stop, but you definitely feel the way he turns his body violently, his hand grasping you behind the neck, drawing you in for a hot and heavy kiss.

His tongue is dominating your mouth, tasting every crevice of your teeth and the roof of your mouth. You’re a breathless mess by the time he lets you go, yanking his seatbelt off before he’s undoing yours and basically manhandling you into his lap.

You’re whimpering as his hands find your hips, grinding his crotch forcefully into your mound, drawing a moan out of your mouth. His tongue is still exploring your mouth with everything it’s got, drawing a wet patch into the crotch of your panties. The fabric of his jeans is rough against your inner thighs as they grow more and more sensitive as your arousal begins to bloom in your belly.

Javi’s hands are traveling up and down your hips, gripping your flesh on top of your dress, bunching the fabric in his hands as he continues to ravish your mouth. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering wantonly into his mouth as the friction from his bulge draws you closer and closer to an inevitable orgasm.

It’s a whole new feeling from the few times you’ve brought yourself satisfaction with your own fingers, and it turns you on even more to think that someone is present to watch you come undone. You bite onto his bottom lip as you moan out, the friction against your clit finally makes the coil in your abdomen snap. Your eyes snap shut as your fingers dig themselves into his shoulders, his hands stilling your hips over his, holding your convulsing pussy tight against his bulge, letting him feel the contractions happening within your panties.

You let his bottom lip go as you finally come down from your startling high, opening your eyes slightly to take in his lust-blown eyes looking right back at you. You tug your own lip in between your teeth, your chest heaving from the daze you found yourself in as you lean back slightly, accidentally leaning against the steering wheel, making the horn go off.

It startles both of you before you both break out into laughter of just how unconventional the whole situation was. You hoped that no one noticed your little escapade - hell, you didn’t even know where you were. You finally looked around, noticing you were literally in the middle of nowhere, and you saw nothing but water and trees around the car.

It was like he’d driven you straight out into what appears to be a lake, and you’d been too occupied with him to even notice where you were. You popped open the door and stepped out into what appeared to be a mix of sand and dirt. You let out a laugh as you finally inhaled something that wasn’t the warm air of the car that reeked of sweat and sex.

Javi followed you out of the car before opening the passenger door behind the driver’s, reeling out a blanket and a basket full of delicious looking food, fruits and two bottles of wine.

“How romantic.” You giggle and hear your stomach grumble, letting you know it hadn’t forgotten about the lack of food since the pancakes earlier in the morning. You almost moan out at the sight of ripe strawberries, raspberries and blueberries. “A picnic?”

“Come on,” he says as he makes his way toward a small spot behind some trees that has the perfect amount of shade while it still overlooks the water of the lake. From the place where you’re standing, you can’t make out how big it is. You follow him and almost throw yourself on the blanket the moment he’s laid it on the grass.

You’re happy that it’s grass you’re on top of - you hate having sand in between your toes, no matter how much you love the beach and walking barefoot. You smile as he places the basket in the middle of the blanket before sitting down on the other side of it, facing you.

“Don’t know how long I can sit on the ground. I am an old man, after all.” He says as he picks the wine out of the basket, wringing it open. You really like the whole screw-lid invention. It’s so much easier.

“From the things I’ve experienced, you’re definitely… Young by heart.” You giggle before reaching into the basket to pick out a strawberry. You hold his gaze as you push the red berry past your lips, biting through the fruit. You giggle when you feel some of the juice trail down your chin and watch his movements as he quickly wipes your chin with his fingers.

“Thank you, Javi.” You smile before chewing through the berry, very much enjoying the way he sucks the juice off of his fingers, and the way he looks at you while doing so. You watch as he pours two glasses of the wine before he extends one glass toward you. You take it and happily take a sip.

“You know, I actually didn’t take you for the romantic type,” You say as you both fill your mouths with fruit. “But this is pretty damn romantic in my opinion.” You let out a laugh when he shrugs his shoulders, letting you know you were probably somewhat right.

“Guess I’d have to be a tiny bit romantic seeing I just made you come in the driver’s seat of my car.” The way he says it so shamelessly amazes you. He says it like the most natural thing in the world - bringing a stranger he met yesterday to an orgasm in his car on their second date. This was a date, wasn’t it?

“I mean, if you wanna call it a date, then it’s alright with me.” He says and you furrow your brows before you realize you’d actually said it out loud. Asked him if it was a date. Oh my god. You mentally slap yourself as you let out a small laugh, before nodding.

“Alright. A date with the most interesting man I’ve ever met.” You say as you raise your class for him to cheer with you. “I know this summer is going to be unforgettable.” You say as the rim of his glass meets yours, making you both smile at each other.

The hours, like yesterday, pass by like you’ve known each other for a lifetime. You’re both telling each other even more details about yourselves that hadn’t surfaced the day before. Before you know it, the sun is setting, and you’ve found your way into Javi’s embrace. It feels like you belong there - like his arms were made for holding you.

“Is it safe to swim in the water?” you whisper as you watch the sun descend on the sky. You bite your lip at the thought of skinny dipping with a man watching you, maybe even joining you.

“In el Embalse de San Rafael?” he moves his body slightly to look down at you, and he watches you as you nod. “Yeah, it is.” He feels his heart pick up the pace as he thinks about seeing you in nothing but your underwear. Or the bikini, which he’d seen you in earlier. Then it dawns on him that you probably hadn’t brought it along, which left the only possibility… you being naked.

If you do decide to strip, he knows he’s definitely not going to be able to keep his hands to himself. There’s so much sexual tension between the two of you, he’s constantly semi-hard in his pants and thinking about what messes the two of you could create together. On the other hand, he knows that you haven’t been with anyone yet, and it makes him reluctant to just do anything with you.

The whole thing the two of you had done in his car had been completely on autopilot on his behalf, and it only dawned on him what he’d done to you after he’d felt you orgasm against him. He almost felt bad about getting you off, but then he’d seen the blissed-out expression on your face.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed you shimmying out of his arms, discarding your summer dress and gliding your panties down your legs before his eyes are glued to the swell of your ass, moving as you slowly tread out into the water.

He feels his heart going through many if not all emotions right at that moment. He watches as you turn your body slightly, waving to him, encouraging him to follow you into the water. He gulps down a lump that has formed in his throat as he watches your body slowly disappear under the water, before he stands up and hurriedly pulls off his clothes, one item at a time.

He contemplates on keeping his boxer briefs on, but quickly decides to discard them along with the rest of his clothes. He notices you’re giving him privacy, as you’re facing away from him, and he silently appreciates it. It’s been a long while since he’s been this kind of intimate with a woman, and boy if he doesn’t feel some kind of nervous.

As he walks toward the edge of the water, he thinks over the last time he actually took his time in appreciating a woman. Not just pleasuring her - actually appreciating her. Sure, he appreciated some of his informants’ readiness in sleeping with him and satisfying his need, but he didn’t spare them much more than that. He kind of felt like a dick about it, now he thought of it.

Before he could think more about it, his hips had become engulfed within the water, and he was close, so close, to you. If he reached out, he was touching your shoulder. He admired the way the water dripped from your hair onto your shoulder as you took in the view in front of you, getting just as lost in your thoughts as he had been in his.

He slowly submerges himself in the water behind you, and he’s sure you know he’s right behind you. His arms come around your middle, pulling your back into his chest. You giggle when you feel his mustache tickle its way over your shoulder, his warm breath turning cold against your wet skin.

You feel his hands slowly, timidly, explore the front of your body, and you extend your torso slowly from the crumpled-up position you’d been sitting in. His hands slide opposite of each other, one up and one down as he places one hand on your hip and the other just under the swell of your breast.

You moan lightly at the contact, his touch once again alighting something inside of you. His thumb grazes the underside of your breast just under your nipple, and it makes you suck in a deep breath. It’s the first time someone has ever touched your chest, and it feels so damn good. Then he’s gingerly rolling your nipple between his fingers, making you whimper out - and it’s almost not possible that it feels even better. But it does.

You lay your head back against his shoulder as the hand on your hip travels further down and in between your legs. You tug your lip in between your teeth as his lips continue their assault on your neck and shoulder. You feel his fingers experimentally moving in between your folds, rough pads gliding over the very delicate lips of your pussy.

“This okay?” he whispers in your ear as his hold on you tightens, drawing you closer to his body. You feel the evidence of the effect you have on him as his erection presses into the small of your back, making you moan even more wantonly.

“Yes, god Javi, touch me.” You whimper out as his fingers drag through your folds once, twice, three times before he languidly dips just the tip of his finger into your wet core. It feels amazing when you do it yourself, but when Javi does it - it feels way better. Like he knows just the depth of where your most sensitive parts are, as pushes his finger in further, finding it in an instant.

Your hand finds his arm and you tighten your hand on top of the muscle, squeezing your eyes shut as he sucks over your pulse point. You’re left breathless by so little, and it makes you wonder just how little he needs to do to ruin you completely. It isn’t going to take much for him to take you apart.

Another finger dips into your core and you moan out again as he slowly works you open. His mouth is tugging your earlobe into its heat, and it feels like you’re going to lose yourself into pleasure. Your mind is spiraling into a haze as he thrusts his fingers into you, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your bundle of nerves while his fingers are still pulling and twisting your nipple.

You let out a deep, guttural moan as he curls his fingers just right inside of you, making stars appear before your eyes. Your free hand makes its way into Javi’s unruly locks, the wet digits tangling with his dry hair. You feel yourself on the edge of going absolutely feral, simply wanting to turn around and absolutely ravish the man behind you. You want to lay him against the sand of the shore and ride him senseless.

You let go in his arms, relishing in the fact that he’s bringing you pleasure so easily. You clench around his fingers as he holds you close, your cunt milking his fingers, silently wishing it was his cock. You knew it would probably take some getting used to - having something as big as the thing you so obviously felt against your back inside you.

You were certainly going to find out if you could though, and just how much of him you could fit inside of you. Maybe not right now, but sometime later, that was for sure. Your chest is still calming down from your high and Javi’s arms are still keeping you anchored to the ground. You were sure that you were going to ascend into heaven at one point during your orgasm.

His arms are warm around you in the cold water, but it still makes you shiver lightly. You wring out of his hold, turning to face him before you’re kissing him intently, bringing both of your wet hands into his hair this time, pulling his front close to yours. You feel him nudge against your stomach and you smile against his lips, before you hum slightly.

His arms come around you yet again - or rather his hands come around you to grasp the flesh of your ass. He moans into your mouth as you move your body against his sensually, wanting to repay the favor. He doesn’t let you, though, because he’s pulling away from you shortly after.

“Come on. You’re shivering.” He says as he finds your hand under the surface of the water, pulling you by the hand to the shore. On the way there, you get to admire the muscles of his ass - the way he carried himself made something clench in your pelvis, even though he’d just given you an orgasm. Were you already ready for round… 3?

The angry, red wound on his shoulder reminds you just what kind of a man he was. You wondered how long it had been since he had been shot - the wound looked partially healed, and there was just the slightest scab over it. You didn’t know much about gunshot wounds, but it appeared that he was shot from the front. You wondered if it had gone right through. It looked like it.

You caught yourself getting lost in thoughts about the kind of people he chased - if he chased people - that could leave him with a wound like that. You decided you were going to ask him about it, when you felt the time was right. For now, you let your eyes wander again.

Back on land, you’re still admiring his body, and you’re admiring him very shamelessly. It was like he brought out the worst in you - an untamable, aroused demon. You hadn’t ever eaten someone up with your eyes like you were currently watching Javi. You knew he felt your eyes on him, but you weren’t sure how he was handling it.

You tilted your head as he brought his boxer briefs up his legs to cover his ass and shield his crotch from you. You reluctantly walked over to your own clothes, also pulling your panties back on with your back turned to Javi.

There was that awkwardness again… you sigh as you pull your dress back on, the wetness of your body making the fabric stick to your skin uncomfortably. The dress clings to the back of your thighs as you tie the band behind your neck, and just then, you realize how much the temperature has actually dropped, simultaneously with the sun setting.

Even though it was still warm, you were sure the temperature had dropped more than a few degrees. The goosebumps that rise on your skin this time are from the coldness of the air around you, as you make your way back to the blanket you were previously sitting on, looking through the basket to find the next thing you were filling your grumbling stomach with.

You slightly ignore Javi as he sits down beside you, feeling kind of mad at him for acting the way he did. How did he just take you on a romantic date by a lake, proceed to give you an orgasm while you both were stark naked in the lake, care enough to get you out of the water because he could feel you were cold, and then go on to blankly ignoring you while he got dressed?

“So, I was thinking we could go somewhere to eat, if you’re hungry. I was thinking maybe I could treat you to some empanadas and a beer?” You almost rolled your eyes at him but caught yourself before you could actually do it. You let out a deep exhale, not really knowing how to handle the situation unfolding.

On one hand, you were starving for something that wasn’t wine and fruit. Empanadas and cheap beer sounded so perfect, and you silently cursed Javi to hell for being so thoughtful and yet so resistant. You kind of hated him for not taking advantage of you. It sounds weird, saying it that way, but you really did wish he wouldn’t hold back with you. You didn’t really think further before the words had already left your mouth.

“Is there something wrong with me, Javi?” you say with so much uncertainty it takes him aback. Where the sudden doubt from you had come from, he had no idea. You appeared to be so sure of what you wanted - so sure of yourself. And yet here you were, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

He understood why you felt that way, though. He didn’t feel good about why you possibly felt this way, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let go with you. He didn’t want to selfishly take advantage of you, even though he desperately wanted to feel you clench and come around him. He wanted to feel the warmth of your cunt, and the warmth of having you close - closer than he’d already had you.

“Hermosa, no.” He speaks as he quickly draws you into his arms, pulling your trembling body back into his warmth. Why was he so damn warm all the time? You hated yourself for the way your body so easily relaxed into his body, calming you down in an instant.

“There must be something wrong with me. Why don’t you want me?” you whisper as he’s peppering kisses into your damp hair, his hands sliding up and down the length of your arms. It feels so good, being right there in his arms. The tremble in your body has been turned down to nothing more than a little shiver, and you feel yourself relaxing into his chest.

“Trust me, hermosa, I want you so much it hurts.” It felt weird, putting it into words like that, but it was the truth. It wasn’t just in the way his cock ached to find solace within your heat - no it was so much more than that, and it scared him more than anything had ever done before. He didn’t even feel this way about his ex-fiancée.

“I want it to be perfect for you. But I’m scared, hermosa. Scared I’m going to hurt you. Scared that I’m not right for you, hell, even good enough for you. I want you to have the best. And I’m not the best.” He speaks as he looks out into the mountains on the opposite side of the lake, that mountain ridge separating the two of you from the bustling life of Bogotá.

It was easier to say it to you, when he wasn’t looking at you. He felt so bad about turning you down again and again, even though he knew you would come onto him again and again. He was afraid you were going to change your mind about him, hell, he was afraid he was going to change his mind about you.

His head and heart were going a thousand miles an hour. It’d been so long since he’d been honest with someone in this way. Not even Connie, not even Steve. Not even his informants. You just had that effect on him. Wanting to open up to someone.

“Javi…” you finally speak, and he closes his eyes, awaiting your next words. He feels as you wiggle out of his arms, before he feels your legs straddling his, your hands sliding up his arms before coming to a rest on his shoulder and his neck. He feels you press a gentle kiss to his lips, before he finally lets his hands come up to rest on your hips.

“You could never hurt me. At least I don’t have the imagination to think of why you would hurt me. Everything I’ve experienced with you has been absolutely amazing.” Your fingers are rubbing soft circles into the nape of his neck, and he feels the tension leaving his body slowly.

“Javi, I want to do this with you. I want you to give me an unforgettable summer. And I know you can do just that.” You lean in and place another kiss against his lips, this time feeling the reciprocation of his lips against yours. “I want it to be you. I want to give myself to you.” You breathe against his lips, making goosebumps rise on his arms at your words.

His mind is imagining so many things as the warmth of your inner thighs spreads over his hips, seeping into his hips and straight into his groin. He’s imagining other women with your face on them, how he would fuck them into senselessness in indescribable positions, bringing them undeniable pleasure.

Yet he can’t bring himself to act on his feelings and desires just yet. He knows you’re going to be saddened by him turning you down yet again, but with this rejection, he also knows that he is going to give into you, sooner or later. You just had to wait.

“Okay, hermosa.” He says against your lips, before capturing them in another kiss. “But not yet. Not today.” His hands are working over your ass, massaging the soft flesh with his rough hands. It draws yet another wet patch into your panties, joining the dried one already left there.

“If I’m going to have sex with you, I’m gonna be doing it in a proper bed.” You giggle at his words, just the thought of the two of you coming together as one alighting your nerve endings. “But right now, I think we both need to eat something.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña x you #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n

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lnc2 · 4 years ago

Text

this time next year

Summary: Marinette is worried about the future. Adrien wants to know where he fits into it.

A/N: This piece was written for the @mlwriterzine and I’m so excited to finally share this with you! I hope you enjoy it and also go check out the zine because there are so many amazing stories/art pieces collected there.

AO3

The party was well underway by the time Adrien knocked on Nino’s door. Alya was the one who answered, half of her face obscured by gold tin foil pinned to a green beret.

“Speak of the devil,” she grinned, leaning heavily on the door frame.

Adrien bussed her cheek and passed over the bottle of rosé he’d swiped from his father’s wine cellar. “Sorry, Alya. The show ran late. You know how those things go.”

She waved him in, whistling at the bottle in her hands, and shook her head. “Thankfully I don’t. Everyone’s in the living room.”

Adrien followed her into the kitchen instead, eyes straying over the tipsy, crowded apartment. Back against the wall, where Nino’s faded and cracked leather couch usually sat, was a long table covered in gold plastic sheeting. Green and gold hats of various styles were littered across, as well as glitter, rhinestones, netting, feathers, and any other number of crafting materials.

He smiled. “I see you’ve all started without me.”

“Naturally,” Alya said, putting his gift in the fridge to chill. “You’re several drinks behind us now, Agreste. Pick your poison.” She gestured to the half-empty bottles of liquor scattered across the bar.

“No tequila?”

She snorted. “You’ll have to track down Marinette for that one. She ran off with the bottle half an hour ago.”

Something warm filled his chest. “A cup of ice and a lime then.”

“Good luck with that,” Alya said, bumping his shoulder as she passed him the glass. Adrien laughed as he followed her into the living room, his smile widening as he spotted Kagami fussing with the green flowers on her gold newspaper hat.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this.”

Alya batted her hand away. “It’s tradition!”

She pressed her lips together. “It’s archaic.”

“Boo,” a familiar voice called from behind him. Adrien’s heart stuttered as a familiar pair of arms slipped around his waist. “It’s just for fun. No one takes it seriously.”

Adrien thought back to earlier in the evening and Gabriel’s annual Saint Catherine’s Day gala and couldn’t agree. There was a stark difference between the frivolousness and whimsy of Nino’s house party and the staid sobriety of his father’s fashion show.

As if reading his thoughts, Marinette’s eyes sparkled up at him beneath gold netting. “At least no one here.”

“Speak for yourself,” Alya said. She adjusted her hat and threw an accusatory look towards Nino. “Tick tock, babe.”

“You won’t let me propose until you’re out of grad school,” he whined.

Adrien hid his grin as the familiar argument ensued. Instead, he tipped his cup of ice towards the half-empty bottle in Marinette’s hand.

“You’re one of the few people I’d share with,” she said, filling his glass. Adrien leaned down to whisper his gratitude only to be pushed from the other side, causing them to knock heads.

Marinette laughed waving off his apologies with a squeeze to his waist even as their assaulter continued to elbow into the group.

“I’m never getting married,” Alix announced from her position on the back of one of Alya’s coworkers. There was a crown on her head but no decorations. She gestured wildly with her free hand. “Just call me Queen Catherinette.”

“All hail,” Alya said, clinking her wine glass against a reluctant Kagami’s. Her glassy eyes strayed towards Marinette. “What about you, girl? It’s been a while since I’ve heard about Emma, Louis, and Hugo.”

Adrien tried not to sound too interested when he asked, “Who?”

Marinette laughed, her flushed cheeks flushing further. “I’m afraid that future is on hold, Al. I need to find a boyfriend first.”

She removed her arm from around his waist then and Adrien had to restrain himself from pulling her back to his side. Instead, he took a healthy swallow of tequila and let the conversation drift into less turbulent waters.

Now was hardly the time to volunteer his name to the top of her list.

Adrien could think of two, maybe three very important conversations they needed to have before he could even approach that topic. The most pressing of which weighed heavy on his right hand and sparkled like precious gems on his lady’s ears.

He watched over the rim of his glass as Marinette giggled with the other women in their silly hats. One of them—Alix’s roommate, he thought—burst out with a jubilant, “For pity’s sake, give us a husband!” only for the others to raise their glasses with various tipsy rounds of, “Hear, hear!”

He smiled as Marinette wrestled Kagami’s fidgeting hands away from her hat. It had only been a few weeks since their reveal but Adrien was struggling to see how he could have missed the woman he’d loved for a decade in his dear and wonderful friend.

“Some party, huh?”

Adrien coughed as Nino slapped him on the back just as he was swallowing. Nino laughed at his accusing glare.

“Sorry man,” he said, grinning. “I thought you heard me coming but I guess you were distracted.”

Adrien ignored the teasing lilt in his friend’s voice.“It’s a good crowd,” he said instead. “I’m sorry I was so late.”

“No worries. Although if everything goes well hopefully this will be the last Saint Catherine’s party we’ll be hosting.”

Adrien laughed. “You think you’ll have worn Alya down by then?”

Nino shrugged. “Fingers crossed. I’ve had this ring burning a hole in my pocket for two months now.”

“Maybe you should be the one wearing the hat.” He grinned, only to receive a rough shove to his shoulder.

“You’re one to talk.”

Adrien pretended not to understand.

“Seriously, dude?” Nino shook his head. “You’re not that slick. If you like her you should just ask her out. I know for a fact she used to have a thing for you.”

And even though Adrien already knew that, even though Marinette told him so several years earlier when her crush was a thing of the past as she’d laughingly put it, hearing his heart’s desire put into words so matter-of-factly did things to him.

Things like make him want to punch a hole in the nearest wall or tear out his hair in frustration.

Because really, how was it fair that the one woman he’d spent years chasing had actually spent several years of her own chasing him right back?

It wasn’t.

Not when Adrien still found himself in the chase and she had apparently just … stopped.

“That was a long time ago, Nino.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.”

“... Why?” Adrien stared, stomach clenching. “Did she say something? Did Alya say something?”

His heart raced like hummingbirds wings in his throat as he tried to catch his friend’s gaze.

Adrien grabbed his shoulder and shook. “Nino.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny anything.” He laughed, before hiding his smile behind his glass as they caught Alya’s attention across the room. Adrien met her suspicious frown with a wave even as his other hand tightened on Nino’s shoulder.

“But …?”

“But … I wouldn’t count myself out just yet.”

Adrien’s hand fell to his side as all of his breath rushed out of him. “Oh.”

“Although, that may change if you don’t do something about it. Sooner rather than later if Kim’s roommate is anything to go by.”

Nino nodded towards the corner of the room where Marinette was chatting with a tall brunette. He was leaning towards her, his fingers playing at the edge of the netting on her hat as he whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. Adrien was already halfway across the room when Nino shouted, “Good luck!”

He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do to break up their little tete-a-tete but he needn’t have worried. As soon as he was in her line of sight Marinette’s smile lit up like the Eiffel tower and there was little left for him to do other than introduce himself before the interloper tried his luck elsewhere.

“Come outside with me,” she said, tugging his arm. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Your fault,” Adrien said, happy to follow her anywhere. “You canceled patrol.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “You know I had to finish up those pieces for your father’s show.”

“At least you weren’t forced to go.”

She laughed and leaned back against the balcony railing. It was cooler than usual tonight as fall slowly gave way to winter and they had the little patio all to themselves. “Perks of being a lowly intern.”

“Please,” he said, bumping her shoulder. “You’ll be a junior designer by next year.”

She hummed, taking a swig of tequila from the bottle only to cough as it hit the back of her throat.

“You can mix that with something you know?”

His lady winced and took another sip, smaller this time. “Who has time for that?”

“You if you’d just slow down.”

It was only half a joke. Lately, even before their Big Reveal, Adrien noticed something changing in Marinette. She was a little less scattered, a little more single-minded. There was almost a frenzied focus about her, like some great fear was nipping at her heels, spurring her forward.

It wasn’t until her timer ran out during an akuma attack that he began to understand why.

“It was ten years this September,” she murmured, turning out to face the cobbled streets below.

Adrien hesitated before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into his side.

“We’ll get him, bug. I promise.”

“But when, Chat?” She started to lean her head against his shoulder only for her hat to get in the way. Frustrated, she ripped the little masterpiece off her head and crushed it in her hands.

“Stupid holidays aside, I do want a life, Adrien.” She ripped lightly at the netting. “You said I’ll make junior designer by next year? I don’t see how that’s possible when I’m running out of work every other day because someone couldn’t control their emotions.”

Her voice caught on the last word and he was horrified to realize she was crying. “I want to run my own business someday. I want –– I want to fall in love and get married and have babies.” She looked up, teary gaze meeting his. “How can I do anything when I always have one foot out the window waiting for the next catastrophe? Who could put up with that?”

“You’re not someone a person has to put up with, my lady.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Right. Tell that to my exes.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, because really that’s all he could do.

“Don’t be.” She sniffed, giving him a sad, sad smile. “You can’t do anything about it any more than I can.”

That wasn’t entirely true though.

Adrien turned his attention towards the scrunched up hat in her hands. Marinette followed his gaze and gave a watery laugh.

“I want it all, Adrien,” she whispered.

“I know,” he whispered.

“Do you?” she asked, eyes wide and blue and wet and angry. “Do you really?”

Adrien pulled her to him then, giving her the hug her fears deserved. Marinette clutched at his back, her arms sliding beneath his coat to wrap around his waist, giving as good as she got.

“I don’t want to wait anymore.”

Tears stung his eyes and words, the right words, stuck in the back of his throat as she gave voice to desires he’d never been brave enough to even dream. Not when Ladybug said no and not when Marinette said not anymore and not when they merged and became everything he’d ever wanted but feared he’d never have.

She wanted it all.

Adrien closed his eyes and breathed in his lady’s perfume. Freesia and jasmine and something he’d never been able to name. Marinette’s arms loosened around his waist when it seemed like he would pull away, but Adrien only held her tighter.

“I––” He stopped. “You said you don’t want to slow down?”

Marinette nodded.

“Well … how—how would you feel about a chaser?”

She pulled away so she could see his face. “A chaser?” she repeated, frowning.

Adrien bit his lip, feeling heat rushing up his neck and ears. “Ah, yeah,” he said, doing his best to hold her gaze. “Like—like a partner. To your tequila, I mean.”

Adrien watched as confusion gave way to understanding in the form of a perfect little open-mouthed oh. His heart was pounding hard enough he was starting to suspect she could hear it when her eyes glistened up at him beneath the dim porch lights.

God help him but he couldn’t trust himself. He couldn’t trust the gentleness in her gaze or the way her body went soft against his or the purse of her lips as she watched him with that pleased little half-smile as realization gave way to something and that something could only be called wonderful as she ducked her head beneath his chin, pressed her lips against the open collar skin of his neck and finally, finally whispered in that small, hopeful impatient way of hers,

“Are you volunteering?”

And even though he knew she knew and even though the question really didn’t require an answer, Adrien tightened his hold on her until they were swaying together chest to chest and repeated the only thing he’d ever wanted to give her.

Yes.

#miraculous ladybug #lnc2 writes #post reveal pre relationship #adrinette #ml writer zine #adrienette

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thran-duils · 4 years ago

Text

Use All of Me (P.13)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Thirteen) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 3,575 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death

Part Twelve || Part Fourteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

A branch snapped out in the woods and you turned quickly towards the noise. It was dark outside still, the sun just starting to rise. You had been unable to sleep since 3:30am and instead of tossing and turning that could wake Yua up, you had come out onto the upper balcony with a book and a blanket.

The only sound you heard now was your heart pounding in your ears, worried that you were going to see a shadow step out from behind the trees in the shape of Steve’s broad shoulders.

But the woods were quiet, no looming figures. Slowly, you relaxed, the tension leaving your muscles. You could not see anything, so you nestled back down, opening the book again. After a few minutes, the sound was forgotten, and you were immersed in your book.

When you finally came back inside, Yua was up by then. You walked quietly by Natalie’s still sleeping form and made your way down the stairs carefully. Yua was already at the sink making herself some coffee. She eyed you as you walked into the kitchen.

“God, look how big you are,” Yua said groggily, eyeing your stomach.

“Good morning to you too. And yes, I can feel it,” you jested. “26 weeks.”

She laughed, “I mean honestly. Since this all started out… it’s like you swallowed a volleyball. It just hits me sometimes, still catches me off guard.”

“Soon to be a basketball, I’m sure.”

“Or bigger.”

“Probably bigger,” you admitted, grabbing a glass to get yourself some water.

“Well, you’re not that size yet. So, where is my breakfast? Cause you look like you’ve been up for a while. Why isn’t it ready?” Yua joked.

Yawning, you said, “Well, ma’am, I was actually going to go back to bed after I got something to drink. I’ve been up since 3:30. I couldn’t sleep. And now it’s catching all up to me. But if you would like, I could make you eggs.”

She waved you off, “I was just kidding. Go back to sleep. It’s still early enough! Do you want me to put a plate of food in the fridge for you for whenever you do wake up?”

“That would be nice,” you said before taking a large gulp of the water. You placed the half empty water glass back on the counter and said, “I’ll have that later too. Don’t want to drink too much at one time. The babies have declared a competition on who can kick my bladder the hardest.”

<><><>

Back in New York, Clint looked way too proud of himself as he strode into the room, but it caught Steve’s attention because that could mean only one thing. And that thing was going to bode well for him.

He was halfway out of his seat as Clint approached, a wide grin tearing at the sides of his mouth.

“I think I got it,” he said, throwing the few pictures he had printed out upstairs on the desk in front of Steve. Steve sat back down, pulling the photos towards him eagerly. “I saw that one of Natalie’s cousins had some photos up in the woods. I couldn’t get a location on them because I wasn’t friends with him. So, I got Shuri to make up a hack for me to gain access to an account. I chose one of the aunts, disguising it as a money scheme – she fell for it, clicked on the link. I was able to gain access to her account and was able to access more of the photos on his page. He’s got a cabin in New Hampshire.”

Steve was looking at the photos of the family outside their cabin.

“If she isn’t on the trains,” Clint said, excitedly. “Where are we now with the cameras? The west coast? We should have seen her by now if she was on the Amtrak.” He pointed eagerly at the pictures and said, “This might be it. It wouldn’t cost them anything to stay in and it’s probably secluded. It’s not too far but it’s far enough out of state.”

<><><>

Wanda was leaning back on the couch, flipping through a magazine. She had been watching the cameras for most of the early morning, but Tony had arrived around 6:30am, wanting to try different locations so she got up and left, giving him the space he needed.

The phone on the desk rang nearby, drawing her attention instantly, and she sat up, craning her neck to look at it. The phone was the number they had given out on the ads to call if anyone had any information on Y/N’s whereabouts. Tony’s gaze was locked on it too and before he could react, she was there, picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m calling about the missing persons ad.”

Wanda’s breath caught for a moment before she breathed, “Yes?”

“For Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yes,” Wanda said more impatiently.

“Saw a woman like the photo at one of the cabins up here as I was on a walk real early this morning, right as the sun was coming up. She was sitting on the porch, very pregnant. I didn’t get a great look at her, didn’t want to gawk, you know. Plus, I think I was on their property, so I was probably trespassing, but I was following a doe—”

“Where was it at?” Wanda asked, cutting him off in the politest voice she could muster.

<><><>

“Steve!” Wanda called, taking the stairs by two. Steve called from the community room and she walked briskly, practically breaking into a jog. When she entered the room, she saw Clint, Sam, and him were looking at some photos on the table. Tearing her attention away from that, she said in a rush, “We maybe got something. A man named Will called about it, saying he thinks he saw Y/N.”

“In New Hampshire?”

“Y-Yes?” Wanda said completely confused at how he knew that.

Clint looked beside himself and Steve demanded, “Where at? Did you get a location?”

Wanda told him the address and Steve pulled his phone out, typing it into the maps app. He slammed his hand down on the desk in triumph, standing quickly. He thrust the phone into Clint’s hands. Sam was trying to peer over Clint’s shoulders to get a look too.

“That’s the same damn cabin,” Steve exclaimed, hardly able to contain his excitement. Wanda took notice of the pictures now, leaning over the table to look at them herself.

“Are we going now?” Sam asked just as Steve breezed past him. His eyes swept to Clint and said, “I guess so then.”

“Ha, teamwork,” Clint smiled, squeezing Wanda on the shoulder encouragingly as he walked by, rushing to follow Steve.

<><><>

The team was quick in their assemble upon arrival, Bucky and Natasha having to travel to get there which set Steve on edge because he had been ready immediately in his black suit, anxiousness coursing through him. He was pacing in front of the facility, having a hard time containing the hope blooming. His eyes were set on the tree line, wanting to just get into the car and drive to the address, scoop Y/N up and bring her back home.

He was not going to make the same mistakes he had that had let her slip through his fingers. If he could help it, she would never step foot off that property without him again. He would make sure she learned that lesson as soon as he got her home.

Tony met him at the edge of the entrance patio, not suited up. He was staying behind to monitor from there and he surprised Steve with a small drone, holding it out to him.

“You should not go in there guns blazing before you get sights on her or something to be absolutely sure. Use this. You don’t need to be barging into some random pregnant person’s cabin. Not a good look, not good press. Especially since you’ve got it out there now that you are looking for her. This drone is quiet, but it’s not silent so don’t fly too close or they’ll hear it and it’ll blow your whole covert cover.”

“You mean hovering above the place in a plane isn’t going to do that?”

“You’re not taking a plane, jackass,” Tony retorted, and Steve smirked in response. “Park down the road. You can go in on foot.” Steve thanked him, taking the drone. Tony ran his eyes up and down Steve and asked, “Was it really necessary to get up in the suit?”

“Can’t exactly show up in slacks. Just in case things get squirrelly,” Steve responded.

“’Squirrelly’,” Tony chortled. “Y/N will hardly be able to run.” Steve’s only response to that with a slight smile of acknowledgement. Tony stepped closer and said, “I got something else too. Of course, they say it doesn’t exist because the general public already has an issue with frothing at the mouth with conspiracy theories of the government tracking them. People honestly suffer from grandiosity in this country.” He noticed the impatient look on Steve’s face and apologized, “Sorry. Soap box. How do you feel about a GPS chip?” Steve’s eyes widened in surprise and Tony back tracked quickly. “Right. We can talk about that when she gets back home, safe and sound. I’ve just wanted to try out the new model and she seems like the perfect candidate, perfect circumstance. We’ll chat when you’re back. Don’t forget.”

Tony clapped Steve on the shoulder before walking back towards the door to the elevator.

<><><>

The trip up north was taking longer than Steve wanted it to, his fingers drumming impatiently on his thigh as he watched the trees go by. The thought that Y/N would somehow get tipped off and bolt before he got there was eating away at him. He was watching his phone anxiously, seeing them get closer and closer to where the cabin should be.

When Clint pulled off on the highway at what should be the end of the road that would lead to the cabin, Steve threw the door open and stepped outside. He was ready to let the drone go, flying it towards the direction of where the cabin was in a matter of a few moments, the only pause in the effort being from the drone having to start up. Steve was watching the viewing screen of the drone with intensity as it hovered over the trees, keeping an eye peeled as he followed the gravel road. The rest of the team was waiting around the SUV. Bucky leaned against the side, tapping his foot, trying to expel some of the pent-up adrenaline that everyone was garnering, knowing this needed to be executed without injury or incident.

The cabin was there at the end and Steve leaned forward in anticipation seeing the car.

“That looks like the car model,” Tony said over his earpiece. He was able to access the drone’s camera was well back at the facility. “Zoom in a bit to the license plate.” Steve did as he asked and Tony breathed, “Bingo.”

“Alright,” Steve said far more calmly than he felt. “That’s good enough for me.” He walked back towards the open back door of the SUV, walking up and placing the screen just inside. “The cabin is about half a mile away. Clint, stay here with the car and be ready to come up when we are ready to go. I don’t want Y/N to have to walk back down the driveway. Nat, Sam… you’re with me at the front. Buck, take the back of the cabin. Don’t shoot anyone unless I tell you to.”

“Taking the fun out of things,” Bucky halfheartedly joked.

<><><>

Stretching out on the bed, your toes curled. A sigh of contentment left your lips as your eyes opened, blinking away your sleep. When your vision focused, you saw the clock said it was almost 11:00am. You had managed to fall back asleep around 7:00am and you felt better now that you had gotten some more sleep. You could barely detect Yua and Natalie speaking in low tones, more than likely trying to avoid waking you up.

The serenity was shattered at the loud bang from on the first floor and you heard Yua scream in alarm. You sat up with difficulty just as the door from the balcony burst open. You jolted to the side, holding your stomach protectively.

Your heart rate slowed only for a moment upon recognizing the man who burst in was Bucky. When his cerulean eyes landed on you, gun pointed in your direction, your heart rate blew past normal, your breath quick.

“Bucky?” you got out in a gasp.

He relaxed ever so slightly, his eyes softening at the sight of you. His gun was no longer pointed at you, hanging at his side now. You did not miss the uptick of his lips, satisfaction flooding his face. But he still stayed on alert, ready to raise his weapon again if needed.

You sat up straight slowly, despite the commotion downstairs, keeping eye contact with him. Getting to your feet you tried to drown out the sounds of shouting downstairs, focusing only on him. His eyes flicked to your stomach, causing your hands to clench tighter around it and he made eye contact with you again.

“You can let me leave,” you said to him, your voice shaking.

Bucky’s laugh was humorless. “Y/N. Sweetheart, c’mon.” He was chastising you for even suggesting it with that tone.

“Buck?”

The sound of his voice rolling up the stairs made you freeze to the spot.

“I’ve got your doll in my scope. She looks good, Steve,” Bucky called back down towards the ground floor.

The sound of his foot on the bottom stair made you flinch. His footfalls were heavy, each step putting another nail in the coffin of your freedom. Your eyes flicked towards the open door and Bucky gave you a disappointed look, taking a step back towards it. He shook his head and you tore your eyes away from him, eyes fixated on the stairs.

He came into view quick, his height surpassing the staircase railing long before Yua or Natalie’s would. The same time elation flew through his features upon seeing you, you felt dread course through your veins. He was geared up, like he was going into a fight. Apparently, he did not underestimate the three of you.

Steve was a foot from you now, his gaze piercing and you were too afraid to take your eyes off him. There were a few moments of silence before he said quietly, “I admit, you have some loyal friends down there. They remind me of Buck.” You said nothing and he asked harshly now, “What did you think this was going to accomplish though, really, Y/N?”

You sucked in your bottom lip, unable to form a sentence in your frightened state about what he was there to do besides take you back.

“Answer me.”

Stammering, you said, “I… I just…” You were embarrassed he was shaking you up so bad. You had been in such a haze, hoping beyond reason that the three of you would eventually be able to settle down and it would blow over. The longer you had stayed away, the more the doubt it could work had been overshadowed by that terrible misleading feeling of hope.

Steve’s expression softened seeing you tripping over your words. He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back. His lips formed into a thin line, stopping his advancement. “Y/N, doll, please. I want what is best for you. All I want is to take care of you. You worried me, doll. You worried me a lot. Do you know what it felt like to not know where you were? If you were safe? If the children were safe? Can you imagine how utterly upset you made me? How betrayed I felt when I realized you were gone? I leave to let you have a party with your friends, to give you space with them.” You almost flinched at the phrasing, like he had taken the words right out of your mouth. If he noticed, he did not show it. He continued on, “I leave a gift behind for you to find, something I built for you and the babies, and how do you repay me? You left. Without a word. Like I didn’t matter. Did you even see the gift?”

“No,” you whispered.

“Of course you didn’t. You didn’t care enough to look. You were only concerned with yourself. Out of everyone in the world, I didn’t think it would be you that would betray me like this. You told me you loved me.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes glistened with tears. He sounded deeply hurt, wounded. You could see it in his eyes.

“I can forgive you, Y/N. Trusting you is something else entirely. I don’t think that’s an option right now. But… I can forgive you. You just have to come back and be good.”

You averted your gaze, your chest tightening at his order.

Steve closed the space between you, and you did not move away this time. He hooked his fingers underneath your chin, tipping your head up. “It’s me…” Steve told you as his eyes hardened, and he warned gravely, “Or nobody.”

You did not have to imagine all the guns pointed at your friends downstairs. You either left with them both dead and back with Steve. Or left with them both alive and with Steve. Either way, he had you enveloped back to him. The degree of guilt is what you were choosing, that’s what he was giving you.

You were taking too long to answer.

Steve looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Bucky. Bucky started walking towards the staircase where he could look down on the living room.

“Steve, don’t—” you choked out.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“Good.”

You let out a strangled noise before you got out in between tears, “I won’t ever try to leave you again, I swear. I’ll stay home for you. I’ll take care of the twins. I’ll do what you ask, I’ll listen, like I promised. I’ll be happy.”

“Were you ever?” He asked coldly.

“I w-was,” you said shakily, nodding. Nodding to convince yourself, remind yourself that you had been. “I was, really.”

“And what changed that, hmm?”

“You… you locked me away in the house.”

His lips twitched at the accusation and you feared you had made a misstep, fearing for Yua and Natalie. He did not make a move though except to say, “And why did I do that?”

He wanted you to say what he believed. He wanted you to believe it too. The tears were fat rolling down your cheeks as you whispered, “Because… you wanted to keep me safe.”

“That’s right, doll,” Steve breathed easier, smiling. His fingers caressed your face. “That’s exactly what I was doing. And you pulling this little stunt proved my gut instinct was right, didn’t it? You need protection, especially from yourself. You are impulsive and don’t think about the long-term repercussions of your actions.” His hand came to rest on your abdomen, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me, doll. I want you to just come home and let me take care of you. That’s what’s going to happen. Right?”

“Yes,” a voice that sounded like yours said; it was like you were outside your body. “Yes, I want that.”

“That’s what I thought,” Steve said, leaning forward and giving you a long kiss on your forehead.

“My friends?” you choked out.

Steve pulled away from you and smirked at you. “Hmm, maybe you can be concerned with more than yourself. Maybe I was too harsh there for a moment… what about your friends?”

“Please don’t hurt them. Please let them leave and go back home unharmed.”

He exhaled heavily and asked seriously, “And why should I do that?”

“Bucky would help you if you asked.” Bucky turned his head towards the pair of you and you tried to pretend like you did not notice his gaze. “It’s not their fault. I asked for help. It’s my fault. They shouldn’t be punished for my mistake. Please don’t make them pay for my behavior.”

Steve looked contemplative and you waited with bated breath, hoping he would react positively to your display of holding yourself liable. He wanted you to beg and you were giving it to him.

Over his shoulder, he finally ordered, “Let the ladies grab their things and get out of here. They’re safe… as long as Y/N continues to behave.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by pressing a button on his earpiece. “Barton, we’re ready. Come on up.”

He grasped your arm and you tried to yank your arm away from him. He was far too strong and jolted you to him. “Don’t go messing this up now, Y/N. You were doing so well. Don’t make this harder for me than it has to be to get you in the damn car. You got what you wanted with your friends; you just need to uphold your side of the bargain.”

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @roxyfan14-blog @mrsnegan25 @coconutqueen21

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark marvel #dark marvel fic #marvel fic #my shit

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miscellaneous-bnha · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve been having this god awful itch for (lowkey) Yandere Scumbag Hawks.

Could be friends to lovers... if you squint? Slow burn? But not really? Uh....

Female! Reader

TW: Scumbag Hawks, Lowkey Yan, Breeding, Dubious consent, Hawks in a rut, Hawks has a knot simply because I deem it so.

You, a normal civilian, happen to stumble across a weakened pro hero Hawks who took an emergency landing on your apartment patio.

Of course you’re not going to leave him there; as warm as his coat may seem, what’s the point of leaving him out in the snow when you’ve got a nicely heated apartment you could let him in to.

Either he’s gone through some seriously rough shit or he’s a lot more out of it than you think, but he nearly scares the piss out of you when he points a feather blade at you, eyes wild and furious, before slowly registering that you’re just a normal civilian.

He grins— it’s more of a grimace than a grin, really— and moves the blade away from you, laughing sheepishly before breaking into a cough. When he moves his hand away, you can tell there’s blood on it.

“Sorry about that, pretty bird. Wasn’t expecting anyone. I’ll be taking off now.” He tries to climb to his feet, but he’s a lot more battered than he’s willing to show.

“Wait! Why don’t you come inside for a bit? Get some energy back before you go flying off to some other balcony.” You offer, and he smiles wryly.

“Would that be alright? I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“Of course! Come in, come in!” You usher him in as he limps, helping him to the couch before going and shutting the patio door.

It turns out he ended up needing to stay a lot longer than either of you originally planned; a surprised snowstorm hit late into the night, forecasted to last for some days. He said that he could always try to brave it if you felt uncomfortable with a “strange man” in your apartment, but you only laughed it off.

“Honestly, with how often your private life gets invaded, you’re by far one of the least strange people.”

——————————

He ends up having to stay three days before the storm calms down, but he’s gotten significantly better since then.

Originally, you were worried about the blood in his cough, but it turned out to be a side effect of the blistering cold winds being harsh on his throat and a rough hit to the chest that left him winded and coughing, but nothing more.

The three days he did stay were rather enjoyable, and you found yourself missing his company when he had gone.

You didn’t think much of it though; he’s a pro-hero with an image to upkeep, so you doubted that you’d see much of him personally after this.

But ever the surprise, you found him knocking on your patio door not even a day later, grinning and holding up a bag of food.

“Thought it would be nice to at least return the favor. For taking care of me, y’know?”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Hawks. I did it because it was the right thing to do.”

“Eeeeh, still. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to see a pretty bird again.”

——————————

And just like that, you came to have an unexpected friendship with the No. 2 pro hero.

Whenever he needed a quiet place to crash or some company, you found yourself leaving the patio door open.

In turn, if you ever felt unsafe or if you had a bad day at work, a simple brush of the feather he’d given to you was all it would take to send him flying your way.

Monthly visits turned into bi weekly visits, then into weekly visits, then every other day. Soon enough, he started coming every evening. “What’s a meal without good company?” He’d said, holding food in one hand and drinks in the other.

“All that fried chicken isn’t good for you, Hawks. Let me cook you some actual food every once in a while.”

——————————

When he had suddenly disappeared for a week, you were concerned, but didn’t want to push him. Then two weeks went by with no Hawks, and you started to get worried.

When the third week rolled around, you unconsciously gripped the feather that hung around your neck, screaming in shock when there was a sudden **”THUD”** against the patio window.

“Hawks!? What are you doing?!” You try and check his face for bruising or bleeding, but he tried to bat at your hands weakly,

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Felt you touch your feather, so I came.” You wince,

“I’m sorry about that. It was an accident.”

“Ah, no worries. I’ll just head back home then.”

You fully intended on letting him go, but your mouth tended to work faster than your brain sometimes.

“Um, actually, Hawks...” you start, only to freeze when he faces you,

“Yeah?” You’re silent for a moment, then you shake your head,

“No, it’s nothing. Sorry.” You smile, but he doesn’t turn to leave again,

“Nah, I think there’s something on your mind. What is it?”

“... I just wanted to make sure I didn’t... offend you, or something. You’ve been gone for a while and I just...” you shuffle a bit, “I mean, it’s not really that big of a deal either, y’know? I just— heh— If you’re just tired of coming around all the time, that’s cool too.”

He looks baffled for a moment, then the realization crosses his face. You think for a moment you see him trying to plot something, but it’s gone before you can think on it.

“I um.... actually... do you mind if I sit?”

“Of course not. Feel free to do what you like.”

He takes a seat on the couch, his wings ruffling and fluffing up before they settle again. A part of you wonders if you really should have looked up bird behaviors.

“I.. started my rut, but I didn’t think it was possible.” And suddenly you start to feel a little stupid.

“O-oh... I— uh— I’m sorry.” He wheezes out a laugh,

“No, no, it’s fine. I should have said something instead of just disappearing.”

“Well, I mean, that’s your private matter so—“

“Technically yes, but... also, you have a right to know. You are the reason I went into a rut, after all.” Your jaw drops for a moment.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Not to say that I’m trying to blame you— I’m really not. It’s just... you know how you’re always cooking meals, letting me in?”

“Y...yeah?”

“My body thought I was trying to nest, so... it put me into a rut.”

“Ah... I see.”

You both sit awkwardly for a moment, so he stands and moves to leave.

“Anyway, sorry about that. If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t come around anymore.”

“I, well, no. Wait!” You grab his arm as he tries to leave, making him halt,

“If... if it’s my fault, I want to help.”

“I, uh, w-well... it’s not— I— you know we’d have to fuck, right?”

You’re both bright red, you more than him, but you nod wordlessly.

“Well... so long as you’re willing to take responsibility...” he mutters. You’re too busy looking at your feet to see the wild grin on his face,

—————————

“Fuck, Hawks!” You yelp, his cock plunging in and out of you roughly,

“Shit, sorry baby bird...! Your pretty little cunt’s just sucking me in!” He growls, his hands pinning your shoulders down.

You’re stuck with your face in the mattress, ass in the air. With him looming over you, feathers spread across your room, shuddering in time with his wings, the only think you can hear is the wet slaps of his hips smacking into yours.

“Hawks...! You gotta slow down...!”

“I’m trying, but your greedy little pussy won’t let me go!”

You whine, head fogging over when his cock somehow manages to push deeper.

“See? You’re just sucking me in, baby!”

You feel the brush of more feathers falling onto you, shivering and tickling your already overheated skin. His claws dig into your shoulders when you twitch, making you borderline scream and clench tightly around his cock.

“Ooooh fuckfuckfuckfuck fffffUCK! Keep squeezing just like that, pretty bird. Tighten around my fat fucken cock!” You feel him drape himself over you, his chest pressed to your back, wings closing around the both of you as much as they can.

You suddenly feel something stretching and tugging at your entrance, and you start to squirm again.

“W-wait! You promised to pull out...!”

“How am I supposed to pull out when you’re the one squeezing so tight??” He growls, thrusts getting more frantic,

“Hawks!”

“Ffffffuck— just shut up and take it. Take my fucking cum—!”

You cry out sharply when his knot fully inflates inside of you, the sudden stretch sending you flying over the edge with him.

“Hawks...”

“Shhh.... this is all your fault, remember?”

“But you promised—“

“And I tried, but your cute little cunt just wouldn’t let go, pretty bird. You were practically begging for me to fill you up. Get you pregnant with my little chickadees.” He rubs your belly,

“But that’s okay, right? You said you wanted to take responsibility, remember?”

“Yeah—“

“Then take responsibility, baby. Have my chicks, and I promise I’ll take responsibility too.” The words to argue back are stripped from your mouth when he starts grinding his still knotted cock into you, making your mind go blank,

“C’mon, pretty bird. Say it for me. ‘I’ll have your chicks, Keigo’.”

“Ha—“

“Uh-uh. Not Hawks. Keigo.”

“Kei—!” Your voice cuts off into a silent scream when he hits the sweet spot deep inside you,

“C’mon, baby. Say it and be mine.”

—————————

You don’t remember if you ever actually said it all those years ago, but you can hardly bring yourself to care.

You smile as you rub your swollen belly, watching as your eldest son and his little sister play in the yard.

“C’mon, kids. Time to go back in. Daddy will be home soon.”

“Okay!!”

And, sure enough, not even 10 minutes later, you hear the front door open, the voice of your husband echoing through the house.

“Where are my little chickadees?”

#crow rambles #hawks x reader #more tags later #if I remember

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pennyserenade · 3 years ago

Text

TINY DANCER

tags: javier peña x female oc, javier peña, rockstar!au, fluff rating: t ( teen ) (for now) warnings: language, alcohol word count: 1.6k+ summary: a band of young men from laredo, texas are on the verge of rock’n’roll stardom and anita rodríguez is the woman who follows them into it. a story of rock’n’roll and all the fluff that follows notes: this is very self indulgent and heavily inspired by the movie almost famous, as well as whatever fleetwood mac had going on, and the book daisy jones & the six. as you can tell, this is a genre of fiction i favor heavily, and i’m more than happy to make this everyone’s problem. thank you for baring with me

Summer time has never tasted so sweet on the tongues of these impassioned young men from Laredo, Texas, she bets. Perspiration covers their foreheads as they stand under the much too bright colored lights, and the crowd before them cheers them on with an eagerness that belongs only to those who really loved music. And they respond like men who really love music—all smiles and grins and heavy panting from giving their young bodies away to it. One might even say their souls.

Even from behind the curtain, she can feel the wave of electricity that rolls off of them. It is a beautiful thing to hear after suffering under the heavy blanket of Texas heat for her own performance.

They had liked her alright, responded about as warmly as they could for an opening act they hadn’t really known, but they turn these young men into Gods. She feels it tight in her stomach, that everlasting and endless excitement reserved for falling in love, not with people, but with moments. Even if it’s all for not, this little musical and spiritual journey she has partaken on, she will at least have been there for the moment these men had exhaled themselves into true and complete stardom.

Not bad for a band called El Fuego, she thinks.

“My God they’re something, aren’t they, Anita?”

Her sister holds aside the curtain to make room for herself. “The one in the really tight jeans was talking to me during your performance. He’s beautiful, I swear it. Just godly.”

Anita smiles. “You can’t fall in love with rockstars, baby sister, it’s unethical and impractical. Have your years with me taught you nothing?”

“Yeah, but those rockstars were a dime of dozen and tight jeans looks like sex out there,” she whines. Anita scans over the men, trying to decipher whom she might mean. That’s when she catches Tight Jeans’ eyes. She gives him a grin and without missing a beat, he gives her a charming wink. A wink reserved for a man on top of the world.

“What’s his name?” Anita asks.

“Javier Peña,” she responds. “He’s just gorgeous isn’t he? They all are.”

All Anita can do is grin as she continues to watch the rest of their performance.

****

This isn’t her first rodeo. This isn’t even her second or third or fourth. In fact, she’s lost track of the times she’s been led back to hotel rooms with a slew of people she doesn’t know, swept dangerously up in the shared euphoria that is the after show comedown.

In her hand she holds her second drink of the night. It’s a concoction she’d mixed for herself, made up of too much juice and too much alcohol, but she deserves it, she reckons. She’s opened for a damn good band and she’s a pretty damn good singer most of the time, and that Javier guy has been looking at her all night, despite the group of women that surround him. He has a good way of being present with them and present with her, too, genuine grins and attention for all to spare. Like the charming and humble lead guitarist he is, he strums idly at an acoustic guitar while he speaks with the women.

She’s been standing in the same place for too long, drinking the same second drink, listening to the beginning of songs he starts before he falters off into the next one. Even over the light hum of chatter and the radio nearby, she can focus on him. She watches his fingers as they strum—watches the way he doesn’t need to look down at them to keep them steady and trained. He’s a professional musician, through and through, even if he may just be some guy from Laredo to most individuals in the world. His manager had been so brave to wager that they were going to hit nationwide success by next week when one of their songs got radio air. She asked if she could keep opening for them, when they got big. All he did was grin. She likes to think it’s a yes.

“Hello.”

Coming back to earth, Anita finds Tight Pants in front of her. Not starling close, but enough to elicit something ghastly in her.

He smells of leather and good cigarettes, and her baby sister was right, he does look like sex. He’s all lean muscle, and though the perspiration has gone from his forehead, she bets if he were to lean in close and press his lips to hers, she might be tempted to taste the residue of it in what would become haste and passionate kissing.

“Hello,” she responds.

“I’m Javi, from Laredo.”

He extends his rather large hand for her to take, and she does. She wonders if this is the approach he uses with a lot of women. He’s good looking enough to be dangerous, but then again, she’s smart enough to understand where the line between fun and serious ends and begins with these men. She’s a rockstar too, privy to sex and drugs just like the lot of them, even if she is just a one man band.

She puts her hand in his and he gives her a firm shake. “Anita,” she says, then inspired by the liquid courage in her, she adds, “From somewhere warm, but hopefully headed some place better.”

He gives her a laugh and she finds that unfortunately, it’s the sort that makes one’s own lips tug upwards.

“You sounded good tonight. Did you write that song?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “You sounded good too. I mean, you probably know that already, but.” She smiles. “Who writes for you?”

“Graham.”

“Graham’s the...”

“Lead singer. Dirty blonde over there talking to your—“ He looks at her. “Sister?”

She nods. “Yeah. She said she had talked to you earlier.”

“Yeah. We talked about your someplace warm. California, is it?”

“Cali indeed.”

“I’ve never been.”

“Well, Javi, I’m sure you’re about to.”

His dimple appears for her. He looks at her like she wishes he wouldn’t, because it makes her badly want to stick to his side for the rest of the night. And on his lips.

Even more unfortunate for her, he rummages in his pockets and pulls out a packet of those good cigarettes that make up his aroma. He opens it and takes one out for himself, sticking it between his lips, before offering her one.

“You smoke?”

She takes one. “Sometimes,” she nods. “Are we allowed to, in here?”

Javi shrugs his shoulders as he lights his. “Dunno,” he responds. She leans forward so he can light hers too. “Suppose we should go sit on the balcony on the off chance that this is the one hotel in America that doesn’t allow it?”

****

“You know Me and Bobby McGee, Laredo?” she nods down to his guitar.

The air outside is just cool enough to be comfortable in, so, despite that their cigarettes have long been stamped out and the party inside awaits them, they stay on the patio, rooted to the furniture. He hasn’t made any moves on her, a fact which takes her by surprise, and so they’ve lulled into a comfortable ebb and flow of natural conversation.

He tweaks his fingers on the neck of the guitar before he begins to strum the strings of it . His hair, overgrown in a way that suits a man of his occupation, cascades over his forehead as his brow becomes pinched from focus. In an instant, from his fingers comes the tune of her desire. He looks up at her, grinning, once he gets into the flow of it.

“¿Hablas español?” he asks, over his guitar.

“Un poquito, but not much,” she tells him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he dismisses, “Can you sing Me and Bobby McGee?”

“Sí.”

He laughs. “Well, put on a show then.”

***

She sobers up halfway between the sun tucking itself into the sky and the sun peeking back out from the horizon, but she can’t remember when. They’d played a lot of songs and her throat feels hoarse, but she can’t recall any one song that had felt particularly clear. It all sort of blended together up until this moment.

Javi lays, back rested against the chair, looking tired. His guitar now rests beside him, quiet, and he stares out at the city below them.

There’s a soft hum of normal people doing normal things below them; the horn of an eager taxi driver, the breaks of a bus, the chatter of patrons going in and out of the hotel.

They sit in the comfort of this city’s morning routine while she smokes his last good cigarette. “I was never much for staying up all night,” she tells him, passing it over to him.

He takes it between his lips and nods. “I was never much for sleeping all night.”

“And why’s that?”

He shrugs, exhaling the smoke. “Don’t know. Sometimes the past haunts me, sometimes it’s just too fuckin’ hot, sometimes it’s the company.”

“Mm,” she hums. “I must admit, I didn't peg you as the get-to-know-me-in-the-early-morning type. Thought you’d be content just charming me with your guitar for the rest of eternity.”

“Well,” he passes the cigarette back to her, pushing his digits against her own in the process. “I’m not, really, but we’ve talked about our favorite songs all night and you’re our opener for the rest of this tour, so why not?”

She takes a drag off the cigarette. “I’m not the opener for the rest of the tour.”

“No?” he asks.

“No,” she shakes her head. “This was a favor, I think. A very kind one.”

He looks out in front of him, falling into silence. Thinking. Then he says, “I think I’m in the position to call in some favors right now if you’d liked to be. The opener, I mean.”

She lets the smoke out from the side of her mouth, which has risen up into a wide grin. “Javier from Laredo, I think I could kiss you right now.”

He takes the cigarette back from her fingers, offering her his own grin. “I think I’d like that,” Javi says, tone soft. Genuine.

She swings her legs over the side of her lawn chair, and holds herself up just far enough to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He turns though, not entirely on purpose, she thinks, and their noses brush against one another. She rises from her seat when he leans down and fills the space between them, resting against his own chair as his lips move against her own.

No tongue, though. He pulls back after a few seconds, brown eyes full of warmth. She’s surprised by the amount of control he has over himself. Surprised that he wants to use it, too.

“I better go check on my sister,” she breathes out, resting her hand over his chest.

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll see you in the next city, Anita.”

“Yeah,” she smiles.

“Look for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she promises.

She likes this man and his tight jeans, she’s decided. Likes him a lot.

EVERYTHING : @astroboots , @frannyzooey , @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @melaniermblt , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @honestly-shite , @over300books , @elegantduckturtle, @pbeatriz , @pretty-brown-eyess , @brcwneyes , @chronic-nosebleed

JAVI : @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @disgruntledspacedad , @melaniermblt , @walt-breslin , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @hb8301 , @penajavier , @darnitdraco , @over300books , @dobbyjen , @paperbag33 , @rebel-fanfare , @p3dr0pasca1lov3r247

TINY DANCER : @itssmashedavo (just because i thought this might interest you)

#javier peña x female oc #javier pena x female oc #narocs fic #narcos #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal fanfic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #javier peña #javier pena

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musicallibrarian93 · 4 years ago

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Under the stars (Gwynriel Fanfic)

It’s Azriel’s birthday, and Gwyn plans a little something special for him. Warning - Very fluffy :)

One shot from my Fanfic ‘Interruptions’. Read it here on AO3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30307776/chapters/74703369#workskin

Word count - 3.5k

It was going to be his birthday soon. And Gwyn wanted to do something special.

Last year it had all been so new, this thing between them. Nonetheless, she had gotten him a gift and gone to their family meal, which Nesta had insisted on throwing for him since it was the first time, she could celebrate with him. He’d graciously accepted even though it wasn’t the kind of thing he’d wanted and had spent the whole night close to Gwyn.

Last year it had been so new, but it had also been kind of a secret. They didn’t go out of their way to hide things and of course her sisters and Cassian knew but they weren’t at the ‘screaming it from rooftops stage’.

This year, Gwyn got Azriel all to herself. Months ago, she’d asked his brothers if she could have him for the night. They’d been reluctant and Cassian had mumbled something along the lines of ‘You get him every night already’. Rhys had finally relented and recognised that it was a special day for the couple.

Gwyn liked to think she knew Azriel well. That maybe she even knew him in a different way to how his brothers knew him, but birthday planning had not been her forte. The only person she’d ever been close enough to want to throw a birthday for had been her sister and they’d shared a birthday, so they’d always planned things together. She knew she wanted to do something lowkey, something for just the two of them but still special enough to mark the day. Cooking for him was also off the table unless she wanted to accept the bond tonight.

Gwyn knew in her heart that they were going to accept the bond one day. Tonight, just wasn’t the night.

Once she’d decided what she was going to do she started to set her plan in motion. It wouldn’t require too much work, but she wanted to make sure it was all perfect.

——

The morning of Azriel’s birthday, she’d woken in his bed like she had for the past few weeks and turned in his arms to face him. She’d woken before him, which was incredibly rare, but she took the opportunity to start peppering his face with gentle kisses. The shadows that had fallen asleep on top of them stirred and danced around the crown of his head as his eyes began to peel open.

“Happy Birthday.” she mumbled onto his lips. His eyes shot open.

“Can we just go back to sleep for the rest of the day and wake up when it’s not my birthday anymore?” He said sleepily,

“But then you won’t get to see what I have planned tonight…” She kissed him again, but he didn’t seem so enthusiastic about what she’d said, “What’s wrong?” she asked,

“Nothing, I’m sure whatever you’ve planned is lovely…”

“But…” she goaded him on,

“But nothing,” a lie.

She raised an eyebrow,

“Fine,” he said, “I’ve just never really enjoyed my birthday.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy today.”

“I will, so long as I get to spend it with you.” He started to kiss her back now. A small kiss to the tip of her nose, then her forehead, and finally her lips.

They stayed in that little bliss, wrapped in each other for a little while, until Azriel’s shadows pulled the curtains apart letting Gwyn know it was time to go.

“I have to get ready for the morning service.” She said placing a kiss to his head. She moved away but he held onto her hand,

“I’ll miss you.” He said, brushing his lips over the back of her hand,

“Don’t let Nesta hear you say things like that, she’d tease you endlessly.”

He only rolled his eyes in response.

——

Azriel wondered what might be in store for him tonight. He felt honoured to have someone care about his birthday at all, but he feared he would be subject to an evening of attention on him. He loved family dinners and their small gatherings but an event where everyone might be staring at him might be too much. However, throughout the day Azriel had become increasingly confused about what Gwyn had planned for his birthday.

At training he’d overheard Nesta pester his mate about what she’d been planning. That had confused him. If Nesta didn’t know, did that mean it was a surprise to everyone? Had Gwyn orchestrated a surprise party so secretive that even the guests hadn’t known it was happening? Or had she kept Nesta out of planning it based on the shambles of last year?

Azriel loved Nesta like a sister but his birthday last year had just been crazy. Nesta had planned a lavish party for him which had been lovely but the combination of Feyre being able to drink again and Cassian with the bottles of wine in the cupboards of the house of wind hadn’t made it a peaceful party. The pair had been causing chaos and around 11pm they were found about to jump from the balcony of the house of wind, their wings already spread wide. Rhys had caught Feyre just as she jumped, and Cassian had fallen on his face before he could take off.

Azriel imagined that keeping anyone out of the party planning would have been a good shout.

Apart from the little Happy Birthdays the Valkyries wished him and the bone crushing hug Cassian had given him before breakfast, everything else seemed to be pretty much normal. Training had been lovely; They’d let him pick the drills they did today, and he delighted in watching Gwyn annihilate everyone in hand-to-hand combat. Gwyn had joined him for a small lunch before going to work in the library and then he’d had the afternoon to himself. He’d decided to go flying and then spent the rest of his time in his bedroom, reading or letting his finger graze over a few notes on the piano that Gwyn had dragged in from another suite in the house.

Gwyn had been cryptic to say the least with the plans she’d made, all he knew was that something was happening tonight. She’d given him no time frame either just told him to be ready for when she finished work in the library.

He tried his hardest to be excited. And he was excited but being so unsure about what was going to happen set him on edge. He was almost sure Gwyn had even asked his shadows to not divulge any extra information as they were strangely quiet around him.

Azriel must admit though for all his nervousness of what might come he had enjoyed the quiet day he’d spent. Had enjoyed just spending some time to himself to read a play piano and the thought of seeing Gwyn soon had his heart erupting into butterflies.

He had fallen hard for her, which was fortunate and almost predictable given they were mates, but he was so grateful that she’d wanted to take this slow. It certainly wasn’t the conventional thing, but it seemed so right for them. To just take the time to be a couple and learn about each other.

Azriel knew in his heart that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her, if she’d let him. Until then he was happy to just be with her.

Around Seven O’clock a soft knock sounded on his bedroom door. It almost made him laugh because Gwyn had been sleeping in his room every night for the past few weeks, she’d even started keeping a few of her essentials in a little draw on, what was becoming, her side of the bed. Yet she still treated it like it was his room and she was just a passing guest.

Nonetheless, he walked to the door and saw his beautiful Gwyn standing on the other side.

“Are you ready?” She asked with a sweet smile,

“Well, considering I don’t know what’s going to happen, I didn’t know what to wear.” He glanced down at his outfit, which had been a pair of comfier trousers paired with a smart black sweater.

“It’s perfect.” She spoke. He looked down to see what she was wearing and was happy to see she’d dressed equally casually with a pair of leggings and a nice chunky cardigan.

Gwyn held up a blindfold, “May I?”. Oh, okay so definitely some kind of surprise party. Why else would she blindfold him? He only turned and ducked so she might be able to reach around his head and tie it over his eyes.

Azriel wasn’t frightened for two reasons. The first was that he was sure he could navigate Velaris in a blindfold and second was because he was with Gwyn. He doubted he would be so calm about someone else trying to blindfold him.

She brushed the back of her hand against his knuckles. They’re slight asking for permission to hold the others hand and he placed his hand in hers in an instant. He felt the shadows dance around him now, they were excited about what was to come.

She silently led him out of his rooms and through the corridor. He knew this house like the back of his hand. And she led him right onto the patio.

She tugged on the tie on the back of his head.

“Surprise.”

——

Once Gwyn had decided what she’d wanted to do it actually hadn’t taken that long to set up. But she’d left Azriel to his own devices today largely for his sake. She guessed that might be part of her surprise, giving him some space today, as well as asking the others to keep the day rather lowkey.

They would have family dinner tomorrow night at the river house, but she knew that on the actual day of his birthday it might be too much to handle.

It didn’t make her any less nervous about what she’d planned though. What if he secretly loved big parties? What if he was getting sick of her? He might at least want his brothers. But Gwyn pushed the thoughts down and prayed he would like it.

“Surprise.” She said pulling the blindfold away.

——

It was beautiful.

Stunning even.

Gwyn had set up the patio into a comfy lounging area with blankets sprawled over the floor, big plush cushions scattered around. A chain of fae orbs lightly glowed along the walls of the patio illuminating the area and a picnic basket sat in the middle of the blanketed floor space.

“It’s not much…”

“Gwyn,” he said stopping her, “Are we going to stargaze?”

“All night if you want to.”

He stood unmoving. Oh no. Maybe he didn’t like it, maybe she should have done more.

“I know it’s a little cheesy to stargaze in the night court, but we’ve never done it before, and I got dinner for us and me…”

He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her. What she’d done. This was perfect. Just to spend the evening alone with her. And the kiss told her as much. She felt every ounce of gratitude; Especially when she felt his rest his forehead against hers.

“Come this way.” She said through the haze of the kiss as she held his hand and led him to the blanket, in the centre of the floor.

“When did you do all of this?” he asked taking in the gorgeous area she’d created,

“Merril let me off work an hour early and it took all my stealth for you to not hear me lugging blankets through the house.”

“It looks like our little stealth lessons are paying off.” He said with nothing but pride in his eyes. Yes, it was worrying Gwyn had gotten past him, but it was delightful all the same.

“I did persuade your shadows to keep it a secret.”

“My own shadows.” He said feigning the look of betrayal.

Gwyn sat down first gesturing for Azriel to sit opposite her. He sat with grace on the floor and his wings spread to one side in order to be comfortable for him while they sat. In his next breath he inhaled the scent of the food that was sitting in the basket.

“I requested a special delivery from your favourite little cafe from along the sidra.”

“Bluebells!” He said with his eyes lighting up,

“Yes,” she smiled as she pointed into the basket, “I got some of those pastries you adore as well as some other little bites and maybe later there will be some lemon cake.”

“Gwyn…” he said tentatively, and she knew why he was hesitant,

“This isn’t me… accepting the bond. Although considering how your face lit up at the thought of Bluebells, it’s certainly given me some ideas.”

He cupped her cheek.

“I haven’t touched any of the food,” She continued, “I don’t quite know how it works or the rules, but I imagine if you help yourself, then I haven’t exactly offered it to you so…”

“It’s perfect,” He replied, “You’re perfect.” She smiled brightly before pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand,

“Eat, or it will get cold.”

Azriel never thought of himself as much of a foodie. He grew up with the idea that just bare scraps were a luxury but when he’d stumbled across Bluebells a few centuries ago it’d been the first time he understood the fascination behind good food. Gwyn had been the first person he’d told about it when he’d taken her round Velaris and he was happy that she’d liked the little macaroons as much as he did.

Their little picnic was beautiful, and Gwyn had gotten him all his favourite items. He’d loved sharing it with her and how her eyes had lit up when he’d fed her his favourite sandwich.

After they’d finished and were completley full Azriel fell back onto the blankets surrounded by the pillows, “I’m impressed by your keen observation skills, Berdara.”

“What do you mean?” She said as she curled into his side. His arms circling her waist as her hand rested over his heart,

“I mean, you got every single thing that I love. We’ve only been to bluebells a handful of times, yet you knew exactly what to get.”

“Well, I’m no Shadowsinger,” she said with a smile, “but I know how to keep my male happy.”

He pressed a kiss to her nose.

“This day has been perfect.”

“I was worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

“You’re joking?”

“Well, I know you don’t love big crowds, but I thought you might miss being around your family.”

“We have family dinner tomorrow; I’ll see them then.”

“In addition, to selfishly wanting you to myself, I don’t have Nesta’s natural aptitude to plan parties either.” She said with a smirk that had him huffing a laugh,

“Sometimes our greatest weaknesses turn out to be our greatest strengths.” He said placing a kiss on her forehead,

“The Nephelle Philosophy.” Gwyn smiled,

“How do- You know about Nephelle?”

This had Gwyn rising from her position and grabbing a little package that he’d completley glossed over. She handed him the present wrapped in brown paper. Azriel sitting once more. It was just a touch larger than the size of a book, but delicate beneath his fingers.

“Happy Birthday.” She said as he looked at it with confusion,

“This wasn’t my present?” He said gesturing to the outdoor patio area and the picnic basket. She shook her head.

“Open it.”

Azriel couldn’t breathe. This was too much.

“Is this…” he started

“Nephelle’s own diary entry of rescuing Miryam.” For now, Azriel held a framed piece of parchment that had words written in Nephelle’s own hand the account of that day.

“How did you know?”

“Feyre may have mentioned that you loved her story.”

“I- How did you get this?” Azriel could barely get the words out.

“I wrote to her,” Gwyn said, “I told her that my mate admired her story and she responded with this. Along with a beautiful letter in which she spoke of how you inspire others too.”

“Gwyn…”

“I hope you like it.”

“Gwyn, this is perfect.” He smiled, silver lining his eyes, “You’re perfect.”

That had Gwyn crying too. She shuffled closer to him and his lips brushed against hers. Her hand resting on the back of his neck.

“I thought you could put it in your room, on top of the dresser maybe?” She said only a breath away from him,

“Our room,” He said suddenly, “Gwyn, will you move in with me?”

“To the house?”

“You don’t have to say Yes, or if you don’t like my room, we can find another one in the house that we like, but I would be honoured beyond reason to know I get to wake up next to you every day.”

She considered it for a second, “I guess it would make things easier,” Azriel hummed, “Nesta might like to live with another female,” she sighed, “And I sleep there every night already.”

“What do you say?” He asked again, his forehead meeting hers,

“Yes,” she whispered, “Yes. Yes. Of course!” She said getting louder. She peppered kisses all over his face before her lips connected with his once more.

It didn’t take long for their kiss to turn heated. Azriel’s hands trailing down her back before lowering her to the blankets and cushion on the floor. Their kiss was exploring and unhurried and driving Gwyn completley out of her mind. She wasn’t in control of her hands as they found there was to his hair that had slightly curled and pulled very gently. He moaned into her mouth and Gwyn forgot where she was only that it was her and Azriel. Her and Azriel forever. This was just the start.

“I love you so much.” She said, utterly breathless,

“I love you too.” He replied.

He lent in once more to kiss her again but stopped a breath away from her. She raised a brow, knowing the look in his eyes. His shadows were talking to him.

“Nesta and Cassian are coming.” He told her. And indeed, when Gwyn turned her head, she saw the mated couple walking onto the balcony with their own blankets and pillows bundled in their arms.

“I can see why you didn’t tell anyone your plans, Gwyn,” Nesta said with a smile, looking at the couple who had been caught in quite a comprising position,

“Hello, Nesta.” Gwyn said with a smile, while also raising her eyebrows as if trying to signal something to her sister,

“Happy Birthday, Az.” Nesta said with a bright smile,

“I tried to stop her.” Cassian said from behind his mate,

“Yeah, we were kind of…” Gwyn started, but didn’t know how to finish,

“You’re welcome to join us,” Azriel said, a bright smile on his face as he rolled off of Gwyn, she sat up to make room for his wings, “If that’s okay with you.” He said to Gwyn,

“It’s your birthday,” Gwyn said. And that was all Nesta needed to hear before setting up their own little blanket area on the patio. Cassian kept looking over trying to seem apologetic for the night they’d interrupted. Gwyn couldn’t hide she was slightly upset for him.

“It’s okay, my love.” Azriel whispered, sitting up, quiet enough that only she could hear,

“Yeah?” She breathed back,

“Well, I was immensely enjoying our evening so far,” he smiled, kissing her nose, “but, I guess we’ll just have to continue where we left off when we get back to our room.”

Those words alone had Gwyn forgetting the couple who had joined them as she took his face in her hands and kissed him like no one was there.

They were shortly interrupted by Nesta saying, “Get a room, you two.” But when Gwyn turned around, she saw the light dancing in Nesta and Cassian’s eyes, they were truly happy for them.

Gwyn still flipped them off.

Cassian let out a loud laugh at that. Surprised to see the priestess act so crudely, perhaps she’d spent too much time around them.

After that they settled into light conversation, Azriel pointing out constellations in the sky while Nesta nuzzled into Cassian’s side. It turned out to be quite lovely. Nesta and Cassian squirreled into the basket to find some of the left-over lemon cake, and Gwyn smiled when Nesta fed it to Cassian. So simple and casual but Gwyn was excited for the day she’d be able to do that with Azriel.

At some point she drifted off, the vibrations of Azriel’s low voice, singing her to sleep. But when she awoke the next morning she was in a large comfy bed. Her bed, she now realised. With her mate’s arms and wings wrapped around her.

#acotar fanfiction #gwynriel #Gwynriel fanfiction #Gwyneth berdara #azriel #Azriel berdara #shadowsinger #fanfiction #fluff #lots of fluff #Gwyn and Azriel #Gwyn and Az make my heart so soft #acotar #sjm #acomaf #acosf #silver flames #valkyrie

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

Text

Under The Christmas Lights // Ashton Irwin

Cass and I are having a blast so we hope everyone has been enjoying Hoe For The Hoe-lidays as much as we are. Her Cal blurb for the day, Baby Please Come Home, is up at @cal-puddies and it is one of my favorites from her, so you should definitely check it out if you haven’t already. (And as always, links to all of this week’s blurbs are in the event masterlist below!) Stay tuned tomorrow for our last set of blurbs and our grand finale on Monday: a galaxybrain co-write I guarantee you do not want to miss.

Extra thanks to Cass for helping me figure out what this story wanted to be. The overall concept remained but the structure, character details and tone of it took on a life of its own and morphed drastically as I was writing it.

Warnings: Established slow burn with Neighbor!Ash, mentions of quarantine, a healthy helping of thirst and sexual tension, implied consensual voyeurism and exhibitionism, mutual masturbation

Word Count: 4048

Hoe For The Hoe-lidays Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist and Ko-Fi linked above

Let me know what you think!

"Quite the festive display you have there."

He stops at the end of his driveway, popping an earbud out as he turns towards your voice. Your next door neighbor, Ashton, stands in his yard, looking at you expectantly as you sit on your front porch, gesturing towards the freshly hung Christmas decorations all along his house.

"Oh thanks! I'm actually not even done. Waiting on a few more pieces to be delivered, really trying to merry things up, you know?" He answers, turning to collect today’s mail.

"Oh really? Everything's already so bright and eye-catching… up so early too," you punctuate your evaluation with a sip of coffee.

He smiles at you and you’re almost embarrassed to say you feel your heart skip a beat. You admit you had a bit of a crush on him when you moved in last year and for a while it seemed plausible you could’ve ended up more than just friendly neighbors. But that hope was yet another thing 2020 took from you.

Even though you were home more because of quarantine, you understandably had to interact with him less and less; gone were the days of “accidentally” baking too many cookies and walking over to offer him a plate or hoping your mail gets misdelivered so he’ll have an excuse to come visit you. These days, your visits were relegated to socially distanced greetings over the backyard fence and happenstance meetings like this.

“Yeah… I know it’s early in the season but I thought after the year we’ve all had, a little extra Christmas cheer couldn’t hurt,” he shrugs. He looks like he’s about to elaborate but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket; he apologetically but sincerely says, “Have a good night” and then scurries back to his house before you can get another word in.

It’s another couple of weeks before your next encounter, one night when you’re bringing the garbage can back up the drive and you hear Ash’s voice greeting you from his side of the fence.

“Those decorations certainly escalated, didn’t they?” You ask, amusedly peering up at his colorful house; the flickering icicle lights on the trim were a new addition, along with a big glowing snowflake and star sitting on his balcony.

“Does that mean you like it?” He laughs delightedly, walking up his own driveway. Your brain involuntarily appreciates how he looks with the lights reflecting off the dark wool trench coat he’s wearing; his hair is a lot longer than the last time you saw him, beard much darker and fuller. He looks good. You try not to think about it.

“Very pretty… not anything I would put up, but it suits you,” you comment, hoping your tone landed on the right side of the line between flirty and rude; you’re so out of practice at this, you’re not quite sure.

He takes it in stride. “That’s fair,” he chuckles. “No decorations for you this year?”

“Oh, I’ve got a wreath on my door,” you gesture. “May or may not get a tree. Little touches like that, things just for me; that feels appropriate but full on decorating this year… it just doesn’t feel right, doesn’t feel true to what we’re all experiencing.”

He furrows his brow. “Do you think my decorations are dishonest?” He asks, looking interested in your perspective.

“Not yours specifically, lots of people in the neighborhood are doing the same thing, some started even earlier than you did,” you carefully try to explain. “It just feels like surrounding ourselves with these crazy festive decorations… it’s like we’re working very hard to convince each other, maybe even ourselves, that this year isn’t any different when that couldn’t be farther from the truth… it is different and it feels weird not to acknowledge that.”

You look up, hoping you haven’t offended him, that you don’t see like too much of a grinch; you find yourself surprised at how relieved you feel when he nods thoughtfully as he considers your point of view.

“I actually agree, people are definitely using the decorations as a bit of a coping mechanism,” Ashton states, leaning on the fence as he ponders. “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I know for me, after spending so much time being upset that I was trapped in my house this year, I figured I should do what I can to make my house feel happy for once. Especially if I’m gonna spend Christmas alone in it.”

You marvel at how despite the heavy turn the conversation has taken, his face never darkens, his warm and cheerful aura never falters. “Oh. I actually hadn’t thought of it like that,” you admit, playing with the drawstring of your hoodie, wondering why you care that you’re feeling vulnerable around him. “I’ll be alone this year too. I guess it just doesn’t feel like Christmas to me so I don’t like reminding myself that it is that time of year. If that makes sense.’

He gives you a sad but empathetic look. “I totally get it. I felt like that for most of the year… birthdays, seasons changing… I didn’t want to admit any of it was happening,” he shares. “But I don’t know… not to seem like I have it all figured out, but if we can’t change how we react to the environment we’re in, I think there’s something to be said for changing the environment itself. It’s important to acknowledge what you feel but also letting in even a little positivity can do wonders.”

You offer him a soft smile, letting him know you appreciate his encouragement. “Even just seeing the wreath on my door every morning is a nice moment,” you confess.

Ash smiles back and you feel warmer than if you’d gone inside and cozied up in front of your fireplace. “See? A couple strings of lights, a little tree. Maybe break out with that big yellow Minion you put out on your lawn when you moved in last Christmas,” he teases, lightening the mood.

“OK, first of all, it’s not a Minion, it’s Woodstock from the Peanuts, thank you,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

“Well, it was quite the first impression,” he shrugs and you can’t help but notice how broad his shoulders look in that coat.

You lay in bed that night, the night’s events on a loop in your mind; you ended up standing outside and chatting over the fence for more than an hour. It was nice and stirred a sense of normalcy in you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. It stirred other feelings in you as well but you knew there wasn’t any sense in dwelling on that since it’d be a long time before either of you would be able to do anything about that.

A few days later, you hear a muffled murmur that sounds a lot like your name while you’re washing dishes; you look out the kitchen window to see Ashton waving at you from his patio. He’s shirtless and sweaty, having clearly just finished his afternoon yoga session. Not that you had taken to timing your kitchen chores to coincide with his workouts.

You signal to him to give you a minute and then you head out the backdoor to chat. “What’s up?” You say as casually as possible, willing yourself to keep your eyes trained on his face and not the sweat dripping over his defined muscles or how low his athletic shorts are hanging.

“Your house is looking nice,” he gestures at the colored lights you recently hung around your window frames. “Little touches, just for you, like you said. I like it.”

You beam at him, impressed that he remembered your words from the other night. “You were right, I do feel a bit brighter having put those up,” you share, stuffing your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep from fidgeting, thinking about how much you’d like to brush the curls out of his eyes.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replies jovially. “I actually have something for you.” He gestures for you to back up as he ducks inside his backdoor, retrieving the package off his kitchen table; he walks back out and smiles when he sees you’ve also turned around so he can surprise you. He sets the box over the fence and returns to his patio; he waits a beat longer than necessary to give you the all clear, he had to give himself a second to appreciate your ass in those leggings.

You spin around and see a box containing an inflatable light up Minion wearing a Santa hat. “Are you kidding me?!” You burst out laughing, picking up the gift to inspect.

“Figured Woodstock could use a buddy,” he laughs, shrugging. “Ordered it when I came inside after our talk the other night, just in case you changed your mind about decorating.”

You feel yourself blush. “Wish I could offer you more than a smile and a thank you,” you blurt, before realizing how forward that sounded. “I mean, like a hug or dinner or something…” You laugh nervously and look to see him trying and failing to hold back a devilish smirk.

“Well. When the time is right, I’d love to take you up on that offer… for the hug or the something,” he flirts.

The next day, you make Christmas cookies and leave some in his mailbox when he goes for his morning run. When he comes to tape a thank you note to your front door, he catches a glimpse of you through the window, decorating the tabletop Christmas tree you bought for yourself and you share a nice moment.

You gave him your phone number that time pre-lockdown when he went out of town and you watered his lemon tree; he finally starts using it, texting you on and off throughout the day and it’s nice to feel like you finally have someone to share with.

It’s when you’re in bed at night, texting away, that you always wish you could share even more with him. Your phone says he’s typing a response and you turn over to stare across the room at your bedroom window, the one facing his bedroom window. His curtains are drawn but you can see the soft glow of a bedside table lamp illuminating the room; you wonder what color the lamp is. Wonder if he sleeps on the left or right side of his bed. Wonder what he’s wearing while he’s typing his messages to you. If he’s wearing anything at all. Wonder if he wants to ask you the same thing. You lay there, wondering, until your phone buzzes again and the cycle continues.

You carry on like this for the next couple of weeks, collecting feelings and building tension. A few days before Christmas, you hurry outside to collect the packages that were just delivered by the mailbox, rushing to bring them in before the holiday Zoom party you have planned with friends.

You stop to text your pals you’ll be a few minutes late when you hear a sharp gasp behind you. You turn and see Ashton at the end of his driveway, eyes poring over you in the fitted green velvet wrap dress you’re wearing.

“You sure cleaned up for the mail delivery?” He jokes, trying to recover how clearly affected he is by the sight in front of him. You realize it’s the first time in months he’s seen you in anything besides hoodies and lounge pants.

You laugh, walking to the fence. “I have a Zoom party to attend but I didn’t want these boxes sitting out here all night,” you explain, instinctively starting to touch your face out of nervousness before stopping yourself for the sake of the dark red lipstick you have on; you’re not used to wearing makeup these days.

“Well… you look fuckin’ incredible,” he breathes, making no attempt to disguise the way his gaze is travelling up and down your body. He runs his hand through his hair and clears his throat, willing himself to move on. “I won’t keep you, then. I just wanted to ask you something.”

You lock eyes with him and feel your heart speed up; usually you’d have a quippy reply to shoot back to him but today, all you can think of is the heat you feel between the two of you. Instead, you nod attentively, trying your best to act like your mind isn’t distracting you with daydreams of walking around to his side of the fence and leaping into his arms.

“I know we’re both alone for the holidays… wish I’d thought of this sooner, so we could’ve done something about Christmas, actually… but say if we were to properly quarantine - you know, like, no outside contact at all quarantine - would you want to spend New Year’s together?” He’s speaking quickly, rushing it out as if he’s afraid he’ll lose his nerve and yet he presents his proposal with an assurance that almost hypnotizes you.

You can’t keep from grinning ear to ear but you still try to play it cool. “That could be fun,” you answer, grateful. You joke, “God, I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t at a party for New Year’s, what do people even do to celebrate at home?”

Without missing a beat, he suggestively replies, “I’m sure we can think of something.”

You have fun with your friends on Zoom but in the back of your mind you can’t stop thinking about the way that Ash looked at you, the honest hunger in his eyes. You keep your curtains open much later than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, wondering if the lights around the window will catch his eye and he’ll stop to try and catch a glimpse of you.

New Year’s can’t get here fast enough as far as you’re concerned but time feels like it’s moving slower than ever. Christmas finally arrives and you wake up bright and early to Zoom your family to open the presents they sent you. Afterwards, you decide to give yourself the gift of going back to sleep; when you wake up a few hours later, you tidy up the living room, gathering the trash bags of torn wrapping paper and ribbons to take out to the garbage.

You step outside and note Ashton isn’t on his patio like he is most mornings; you’re just about to head back inside when you hear a warm “Merry Christmas” from over the fence.

You turn to see him wearing a smile brighter than his extravagant Christmas lights display and yours combined. “How’s your morning?” He asks earnestly.

You smile back. “It’s good! Slept in a little, Zoomed with the fam. Lowkey but nice.”

“Ohhh. That’s why you weren’t at the window this morning,” he muses. You look at him quizzically and a sheepish look washes over his face. “I’ve maybe noticed that you seem to like tidying up the kitchen around the same time every morning… maybe sometimes when I’m ready to start my stretches, I’ll check to see if you’re at the window yet. Maybe sometimes if you aren’t there yet, I’ll wait.”

You feel yourself flush, flattered. “Here I thought I was being voyeuristic when all along you’re just an exhibitionist,” you smirk.

He chuckles knowingly. "And you're leaving your curtains open all hours of the night for aesthetic reasons?"

You're surprised you don't feel embarrassment, just a sense of pride and overwhelming desire. "You're welcome," you say coyly.

Completely devoid of self-consciousness or hesitation, Ash says seriously, "I'd give anything to come over there and kiss you right now. Touch you. Just feel you."

Your breath catches but you manage to get out, "Six days. Just gotta get through this week. Somehow."

The interaction plays over and over in your mind throughout the course of the day: the confident way he told you he wanted you, the way his gaze seemed to devour you entirely, the simultaneous relief and ache you felt knowing that the yearning that’s been threatening to overtake you has him floundering too.

Six days is a long time, especially when you’ve not so much as grazed another person since the beginning of the year, not to mention you’ve been waiting to get to this place with Ash for over a year.

The idea enters your mind while you’re cleaning up your dinner dishes, peering out the kitchen window he’d freely admitted to using to perform for you. You slip out to the garage, finding the box with your usual Christmas decorations much more easily than you expected. You glance at his living room window, ensuring he’s occupied before heading up to your bedroom to set your plan in motion.

You add as many strings of lights to your bedroom window as you can fit: colored ones, white ones, blinking ones, the ones that get slowly brighter and then dim back down. You stand back and nod to yourself, pleased with your work. You’d certainly call this eye-catching.

You feel more excited than nervous when you see it’s already around the time that Ashton usually heads upstairs for the night. You see the light in his room go on and you wait impatiently, just long enough for you to wonder if you didn’t go far enough with your display. You jump as your phone buzzes on your nightstand with a text message.

“Feeling extra festive tonight?”

You chew your lip, weighing how to play this. “Wanted to be sure I had your attention.”

He types for what feels like a lifetime but all he ends up responding with is: “Oh?”

You push yourself off your bed and go stand in front of your window, responding, “I think I’ve figured out how we get through the next week.”

You see him through his window, shirtless and in his boxers, laying on the bed with his phone. He reads your message and runs his hand over his beard, lost in thought; his head turns towards the direction of your house, pondering, when he notices your illuminated figure. You see him sit straight up and stare in disbelief as it dawns on him that you’re standing at the window, dressed in a lace lingerie set that has him almost feeling dizzy from how fast the blood is rushing to his cock.

He walks over to his own window, needing a closer look; he groans as he takes in every detail: how the red color of the bra and panties contrasts against your skin, how the black lace trim accentuates your curves, how the strappy detailing of the underwear present you as a Christmas gift meant just for him to unwrap. The lights around your window cast a glow around you, making you look like even more of a holiday fever dream come to life.

His eyes meet yours and you hold his gaze as you run your hands slowly down your body; you start by trailing down your neck to the straps of your bra, tracing along the lace outline with your fingers. You give your breasts a firm squeeze as you run your palms over the cups, stopping to use your thumbnail to tease your nipples until they poke through the thin material. Your fingers dance down your torso, swirling around the lines of your belly, pulling at the waistband of your bottoms. You tauntingly skip over your hips entirely, moving to caress your thighs.

Your phone buzzes again and you pause your show to reach for it. “Wish it were me,” Ash’s confession reads.

“In my mind, it is,” you reply, sitting your phone aside to dip into your panties. You lick your lips, in awe of how aroused you are, how aroused you’ve been since you decided to create this situation.

Ashton gulps and if he wasn’t so blinded by lust, he would’ve laughed at how audible the sound was in his ears. He wants to text you back, wants you to know how he’s dying for this week to pass so he can ravish you with the attention you deserve, the attention he should’ve given you a long time ago. But he also doesn’t want your hand to stop moving inside your underwear, so he waits.

You spread your wetness around, teasing yourself slowly. You considered bringing your bullet vibe to the window with you but you figured you were going to be overwhelmed enough and you weren’t going to need any help getting off. You close your eyes as you trace around your clit, not allowing yourself to put much pressure on it just yet, not willing to risk having this be over too soon.

He sees you throw your head back in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut, lips swollen from sucking them between your teeth and he can’t take it anymore. He pulls his cock out through the hole in his boxers and starts stroking, exhaling in relief at how instantly good it feels; he spits in his hand to ease the friction at first but it only takes a few tugs for precum to start trickling from his tip. He groans and pumps faster, knowing this won’t take long.

You press a fingertip inside yourself and moan a lot louder than you expected; you open your eyes and notice his stare remains unwaveringly focused on you, only now his hand is working his cock. He moves rapidly up and down his shaft, seemingly unconcerned with taking it slow. Part of you wishes his movements would slow down so you could get a better look at his dick but you also love that he’s seemingly so turned on by the thought of having you that he needs immediate gratification.

He tries to keep up with you, matching you stroke for stroke as you continue working yourself up, hand speeding up inside your panties, hand pawing at your clothed breast. His rough grip catches on one of the veins running down his cock and he chokes out a strained curse; he notices your mouth keeps forming a perfect O shape as you react to your self pleasure and he lets out his own whimper as he imagines how heavenly your sounds must be.

“I can’t wait to hear you when I make you cum for me.” You softly whine as you read his latest text. You’re nearly there and your head is spinning at the deliberate nature of his words: “When” he makes you cum “for him.” You rub hard at your clit and feel that familiar burning ache building in your core. You swear your wetness increases tenfold as you feel the pulsing begin.

Ashton’s cock leaps in his hand as he witnesses your body tense and shake as your orgasm washes over you; he notices your lips murmuring something and the thought enters his mind that you could be saying his name. He hopes you are.

You’re still waiting for your heart rate to settle, realizing there’s no way it will as long as you’re watching Ash pull at his cock like that. One hand flies over his length, the other firmly clutching his balls; his hips start to move, fucking into his hand as he nears the edge. You’re captivated watching his abs tense, fluttering with intensity until suddenly they’re being coated with cum. The ropes streak his skin and you decide it’s too soon to text him to share how badly you want a taste.

He hangs his head in exhaustion, briefly ducking away from the window to grab a tissue off the dresser; he cleans himself off, tucks his cock back in his boxers and finally looks back up at you. You smile softly at each other, though you’re not sure of the tone; it’s not exactly shy and it’s not entirely wistful. Whatever it is, it’s nice. Hopeful? Satisfied. For now.

You text him, “It’s after midnight now. 5 days.”

You see him shaking his head, smiling as he types. “Still too far away. Same time tomorrow?”

You grin, shooting off your response before blowing him a kiss goodnight. “Still too far away. Meet you here after yoga tomorrow.”

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @feliznavidaddycal

@castaway-cashton @ashtonlftv @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @ashdork-irwin @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @everyscarisahealingplace

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands @realisticnotes @makeamovehemmings @golden166 @burstintocolor

@mfartzzz @babyoria @petunias-pet @youngblood199456 @notinthesameguey @seanna313 @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @zackoid

@lovelybonesetc @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum @ashtonangst

@laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @pilunb @jazzyangel242 @babylon-corgis @heyheyhaleyd @calmsweetcreature

@spicycal @talkfastromance4 @holystxne

@meetmedowntown @myloverboyash

@irwindoll @cheekysos @carrielfisher @lukedorkyhemmings @creampiecashton @lovelywordsblog

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey @tobefalling @aladyofalbion @likehuhdude

@curlycalums @cxddlyash @reddesert-healourblues

@fedorable-killjoys @iamcalumswhore @i-like-5sos @Too-et-moi215

@photochic18 @kouska901 @Indermeow @dantord

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #Ashton irwin smut #Ashton irwin fic #holiday smut #Ashton smut #smut #kh4f fic #Under The Christmas Lights #Kindahoping4forever #cass and crystal present: hoe hours #cass and crystal present: hoe for the hoelidays #i literally just finished writing this and read it for the first time while formatting #hahahahaha what the fuck this fine #i have been EXHAUSTED the past couple days so i legit do not remember writing the last third of this and I am shocked maybe even scandalized #so that happened lmao #Feedback is appreciated #see you for more hoe-ing tomorrow clowns!

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thishintoflove · 4 years ago

Text

“This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things” - A WW84 Fanfic

TSwift Songfic Week Day 4

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

Warnings: 18 + Explicit (Language, possessive behavior, P/V sex, unprotected sex, slight boss/employee relationship (reader is a hired caterer), elements of sex pollen because the dreamstone messes with Max)

Summary: After Max secures the stone, he throws a party to celebrate. He also chooses you to help him test it out.

A/N: I’m not even a Max Lord stan but something about the way the dreamstone slowly fucks him up over the course of the movie really does it for me. Also this isn't a popular t-swift song but I happen to really like it and I think it fits??

It was so nice throwing big parties

Jump into the pool from the balcony

Everyone swimming in a champagne sea

“So are you one of Max Lord’s foreign associates or are you just another pretty face for the party?”

The man in the tuxedo slumped towards you and you had to jump back to avoid getting champagne on your dress as he tipped his glass.

“I’m here to work,” you said through clenched teeth. This wasn’t the first drunk guest to proposition you while you were working, but Maxwell Lord’s parties seemed to attract the worst of them all. You turned on your heel and walked away before the man could make a real pass at you. Maybe he’d fall in the pool later-- he was certainly drunk enough for it to happen. Incidents like that were the highlight of your weekend.

You smoothed your navy dress as you stepped off the patio and back into the house. You weren’t a guest, but as the owner of the catering company working this function, you felt you had to dress with the crowd so that you could blend in while you kept everything running smoothly.

When Maxwell Lord first hit the DC scene, he'd been a boon for your company. You catered a few of his first parties, mostly after his big commercial aired and his name was growing. They were huge, outlandish affairs but it allowed you to bring on more staff and test out new recipes. But the gaps between parties had grown longer and longer recently, and you’d wondered if he’d switched to a rival catering company. But there was no gossip about it in the service industry rumor mill, so you assumed the man was just cutting back on his party habits.

It had been at least six months since you’d seen him, but now you were back in his large home managing yet another one of his wild events. The music was particularly loud and the crowd particularly large tonight.

And there are no rules when you show up here

Bass beat rattling the chandelier

Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year

The man himself caught your eye when he started waving in your direction from the kitchen door.

“Darling, may I speak with you a moment,” he called in that faux host voice of his. He was standing with another tall man in a tuxedo, this one with glasses and slicked-back white hair.

You smoothed your dress and approached the pair. When you were close enough, Maxwell grinned and placed a large hand on the small of your back, “This is DC’s finest caterer! She’s the genius behind those delicious spinach puffs you were just raving about.”

“Is that so?” the man replied quietly, eyeing you up and down. You tried to give the rude man a disapproving glare but Max seemed to notice it too. You felt his hand clench where it rested on your back.

“Yes, she’s quite the specimen, but I’m afraid I have to pull her away for something. Do you have a moment, my dear?”

“Of course, Mr. Lord,” you reply, pointedly ignoring the other man, “Let’s step into the kitchen.”

He followed you through the busy kitchen that he probably never used himself, until you found a quiet spot in the back near the pantry. You turned to look at him, quirking a brow and waiting for him to speak first.

“How do you think it’s going tonight?” he asked, his soft brown eyes suddenly revealing his vulnerability.

“It’s going quite well from my perspective,” you replied, curious as to why he interrupted his celebration for this, “The trays have been evenly spaced, we have plenty of hors d'oeuvres and alcohol left, and no one’s thrown up yet. I’d call it a success.”

“Good, good. So do you think you could take a short break?”

He ran a hand down your back again but this time he reached further, only stopping when he reached your ass to give it a firm squeeze.

Yes, you’d slept together once after one of the earlier parties you’d catered for him. You didn’t make it a habit of sleeping with clients, but the party was over, your staff had finished cleaning up, and he’d looked so lonely standing there by himself in the foyer of his large home. He’d asked if you wanted to stay for a drink and there was something soft in his eyes that told you he wasn’t the leering type, he just wanted some companionship. So you’d stayed, and after a couple glasses of wine you’d given into him easily.

The sex was great but you didn’t spend the night, both of you understanding that this was a one time deal. You’d catered one more party for him after that, but then he’d never called you again. Until now.

“I want to show you something,” he continued, grabbing your attention again. His eyes bore into yours. You couldn’t help it. Maxwell Lord intrigued you.

“Lead the way,” you replied.

This is why we can't have nice things, darling

Because you break them, I had to take them away

You could feel the base vibrating through the floor as you followed him upstairs, down the hall, and into what you assumed was his private bedroom. If this whole thing was just a request for sex, you were confused as to why it couldn’t wait until after the party.

“Mr. Lord, you have a house full of guests downstairs, is this really the best time to-”

“Yes it is. I have a proposition for you and I can’t wait anymore.”

He led you over to the end of the bed and gestured for you to sit down. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t extremely confused, but you followed his direction out of pure curiosity. He sat beside you and angled his body so he could meet your eyes head on.

“I’ve recently found myself on the receiving end of some very good fortune. Let’s just say I’m about to become a very powerful man. By tomorrow, Black Gold Cooperative stock will be through the roof. And there’s so much more that I plan to do.”

You hesitated as you studied his face. His eyes sparkled with excitement but you didn’t really understand what he was saying. “Congratulations? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I trust you.”

“You barely know me,” you replied, surprise coloring your tone, “I’ve catered a few of your events and we had sex once, but I hardly think that’s enough to establish a real foundation of trust-”

“Hush,” Max said, quieting you by placing one large finger against your lips, “I trust you because you’ve never lied to me. You’ve always treated me fairly. And right now, I need someone who isn’t going to yell at me or tell me exactly what I want to hear.”

“Ok-ay?”

“You’ve treated me well, so now I want to offer you something in return,” he continued, “I will grant you one wish. One wish for anything in the world. You can have anything you want, and in return I can make sure that the power truly works.”

You frowned. “Are you high right now? Did you take something downstairs?”

His words didn’t make any sense. Wishes? Powers?

“No! No, I didn’t,” he responded, running a hand through his hair in agitation. He sighed but then he reached for both of your hands and held them in his own. “Just believe me, I’ll prove it to you. Wish for something.”

His grip was strong but you didn’t feel threatened, just confused and maybe a small sense of pity. You figured there was no harm indulging him once, and then you could leave.

“Fine. I wish I had a Motorola DynaTAC. It’d be great for business but I could never afford one.”

Max grinned at you, “Your wish is granted.”

He leaned forward and pulled your joined hands closer as his body curled up. You were about to pull your hands away when he groaned, low and long. It sounded like pleasure turning into pain. You felt him shake and then a light breeze blew through the room, ruffling your hair. Strange. The window wasn’t open and there was no fan in the room.

“Max? What was that?” you asked slowly, glancing around the room. “Wait, are you okay?”

He was still doubled over, breathing heavily. When he heard you speak, he glanced back up and caught your eye with the wildest look you’d ever seen. His hair had fallen across his forehead and he had a sheen of sweat on his skin. But what shocked you the most was the flash of gold you saw in his eyes. You lifted a hand without thinking and brought it to his face, resting it against his cheek as you searched for the gold again, but it was already fading. Then Max shut his eyes and leaned into your palm, releasing a long sigh.

“What was that?” you asked again, softer this time.

“That… was your wish being granted.”

You looked where he pointed and your mouth dropped open when you saw the world’s first cell phone sitting beside you on the bed.

“This is real? How did you-”

You were cut off by Max’s lips crashing into yours. He grasped the back of your head and pulled you close, devouring your mouth. You moaned in surprise but then immediately gripped his shoulders to gain more leverage. You shifted against him so you were almost in his lap, and you quickly noticed how hard he was. You pulled back for a moment, your lips separating with a pop, and he gazed at you with a delirious expression.

“So you actually have powers. You can grant anybody’s wish?”

“It seems so, yes.”

You hummed. Whatever just happened… this wish granting. It seemed to physically affect Max in a big way. Your curiosity piqued again. “What does it feel like?” you asked, “Tell me. I want to know.”

He smirked and one of his hands tightened its grasp on your hip while the other held the back of your neck.

“Well, when the magic first washes over me… when the words ‘I wish’ fall from your lips… it feels, orgasmic,” he growled, leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “I can feel the power coursing through my veins, like hot fire running out from my spine to every nerve ending in my body.”

He shuddered as he said this, as if the mere thought of it caused his body to react, “It feels… uncontrollable-- as if a pleasure is being ripped from your body after you’re already over-sensitive. And I feel the power leave and spread. Then there’s a hint of pain at the back of my head, but it’s worth it.”

His words sent a rush of heat to your core. There’s something about the unpredictable mix of power and lack of control that has you growing wet as he speaks. You move so that you’re fully seated in his lap and you immediately get to work on the buttons of his dress pants.

“It sounds remarkable,” you mumbled, feeling drunk on secondhand power. You finally managed to release his cock and gave it a few pumps while he groaned.

“It is. I can feel the power coursing through me. The Dreamstone wants to be used. It urges me. I want more. I need more.” he groaned, grinding against you.

“I’m more. You can have me right now,” you heard yourself moan.

Max chuckled darkly and used both hands to drag your dress up your body and over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. “Yes, I think I will.”

You gasped as two thick fingers plunged into you without warning. Max hummed, “So fucking wet already. Were you waiting for this, darling?“ He slowly pumped into you, drawing several gasps and moans as he hooked his fingers deep inside. Your hips ground against his hand, aching for more.

“Yes, please fuck me!!”

He growled and removed his hand, only to grasp his own cock and run it against your slick folds. You groaned when he finally pushed in, shuddering at the slight burning sensation of being filled so completely. Max pushed deeper until he was completely seated inside you, but then he stopped, holding you on his lap and letting you warm his cock. His head fell to your shoulder as you wiggled your hips, ready for him to move.

“Come on, Max,” you whined, feeling your muscles clench around his solid length. You thought you were getting what you wanted when he shifted his hips and lifted you up but he moved agonizingly slow.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he said, his chocolate brown eyes mostly black as he stared up at you. He held you just above his lap, and his hands squeezed your hips so tightly that you knew there’d be bruises there tomorrow.

“I want you Max. I need you.”

“And no one else?”

You didn’t say anything, your mind begging you to focus solely on the sensations. But Max wouldn’t relent. He pulled almost all the way out, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you as he stilled his hips. “Say it. Say there’s no one else like me.”

One hand snaked up and grabbed your breast, his thumb tweaking the nipple painfully.

“Only you!” you gasped, arching against him, “No one can do what you do!”

Max growled and plunged back into you, driving as deep as possible, “That’s right. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You cried out at the feeling of him pounding back into you, setting a new fast and rough pace. You bounced on his lap, moaning his name as he fucked up into you. Neither of you lasted long. Soon enough your orgasm hit you like a truck, your walls fluttering around his cock as you grasped at his back and his hair. He followed after a few more rough thrusts, coating your walls with his release as he bit into your shoulder to quiet his groans.

You were so satisfied and blissed out that you didn’t remember crawling up towards the head of the bed and cuddling into Max’s warm, soft body to fall asleep.

This is why we can't have nice things, honey

Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?

But the morning after served as a wake-up call.

“Max?”

Your eyes fluttered open when you realized he wasn’t still in bed next to you. You sat up, running a hand through your disastrous hair. He must have heard you call out because Max appeared in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom, already fully dressed for work.

“Ah you’re awake. I have to rush off, you don’t mind seeing yourself out do you?”

He glanced down when he said it, fiddling with his cuff-links. Your heart clenched painfully at his words, but this wasn’t your first foray into casual sex. What surprised you more was the fact that he seemed to want to ignore what he revealed to you last night. His new powers...

“What about last night?”

Max paused. He waved a hand in the air as he searched for the right thing to say, “I’m not sure that I have room for a relationship in my life right now. I’m-”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you said sharply, fully aware that he was being evasive on purpose.

“Right. Of course. Well I have big plans for that too and they’re about to start today.”

“I don’t understand. What plans? Are you going to use this new power to-”

“Listen, I showed you what I showed you because I assumed you’d be discreet,” Max cut in, his face hardening, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone. And I’m sorry, but I can’t explain right now.”

“Max…” you said slowly, “What are you going to do?”

“I have to go.”

He made his way to the door, not sparing you another glance as you sat in his bed, completely bewildered and more than a little concerned.

“What about me?”

“I’m sorry, honey. This is bigger than you.”

This is why we can't have nice things

#maxwell lord #ww1984 #maxwell lord x reader #wonder women 1984 #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #my fanfic #fanfiction tag #the mandalorian #max lord #ww84

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il-ballo-della-vita-maneskin · 3 years ago

Note

Could I have a matchup if you’re not too busy please? I’m bi and my pronouns are she/her. I have long dark brown hair, blueish greenish eyes, and very fair skin with lots of freckles. I’d describe my style as effortless and classic, a little Parisian chic, and I would say I’m the fun wine aunt of my friend group. I’m very extroverted and I don’t really like being alone. My love language is physical touch and I go absolutely feral when someone wants to cuddle me (as long as I can be the little spoon most of the time), but I love to cook and making a meal for someone also counts as a love language to me. I love “blue hour”, right before the sun comes up when I can drink my coffee in peace. I’m fluent in French and I’m learning Italian and I feel like I’m doing pretty well! I love walking my dog, going to the beach, and jogging. If I’m at home, I’m usually dancing and singing my way through the day. I’m super protective of those I love but it takes a long time to gain my trust. I tend to be very insecure about my body but I’ve beaten an ED so I’m trying to love myself 😅 I tend to bottle up my emotions (probably bc Im a Virgo with eldest child syndrome) so I write my own songs as a way of expressing myself, even though I don’t share them for anyone.

I feel like I wrote so much I’m so sorry and also so appreciative 🥰

thomas for suree

with you being the wine aunt and him the one who parties the most, you would be literally the most fun and lively couple ever. he loves that you are extroverted and would always take you to the wildest of parties, knowing both of you would have a blast. he’d be so glad to have someone like you, with who he can just drink and dance and enjoy the night out.

he started waking up before the dawn, even before you would, so he can make you coffee just the way you like it. when you go out to the balcony / patio, he’d come up from behind you and hug you tight, careful not to spill the coffee and hand the cup to you. you stay like that for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, his familiar scent and grip of his arms giving you all the comfort you may need.

he is always so happy when you cook him something and he genuinely loves your cooking. whenever you are making something he asks to help you and he’d be quick to learn, so he can surprise you with meals like you surprise him.

imagine both of you having nothing to do for a day and you decide to stay home. he then finds some old record and puts it on, grabs your hand and spins you around. you start singing and continue dancing as the songs change and you spend the whole day enjoying all the types of music you like, coming up with choreographies, competing who knows more songs and singing as loud as you can, not giving a damn about neighbors.

wish you a great day💕

#thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi #match up requests #match ups #måneskin #maneskin x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin imagines #maneskin

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winterbanner · 4 years ago

Text

Mercy (Bruce Banner/OFC)

Summary: Bruce is upset after a mission goes awry. Can Catherine's words help him to see himself in the way that she does? Takes place six months after the first avengers film.

Tags: Angst, Emotional Hurt/ Comfort

Word Count: 2687

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rated PG-13

Pairing: Bruce Banner x OFC (Catherine King, former SHIELD agent gone rogue, now a member of the Avengers.) Her name is only mentioned twice, so just ignore it of you’re looking for a self-insert)

It wasn’t easy being an Avenger, but today felt especially taxing. The battle wasn’t necessarily harder than others, it was the civilians that made the experience all the more horrific. They were everywhere, scattered throughout the streets, sprinting in a panic to find cover, to save themselves from the cataclysmic destruction. We tried to direct them all to safety, and for the most part we were successful, but there were only seven of us and hundreds upon hundreds of them.

When it’s your job to save lives it becomes difficult to focus on the positives, to think about the ones you saved, to consider how many lives would have been lost if you were not present. It is impossible to celebrate a victory, when the dead bodies of innocent civilians, bloodied and lying under the rubble, products of a conflict in which you were involved, are imprinted in your mind. It haunts all of us, but perhaps no one more than Dr. Banner.

I saw it happen, a young couple, was attempting to run into a department store for cover. Hand in hand they attempted to dodge the flying debris, while avoiding the menacing robotic soldiers that flooded the streets.

Hulk was there, doing his duty smashingly, taking cars, and large chunks of metal, and throwing them at our adversaries, leaving them as nothing more than a pile of wires. The decision had been made to keep Hulk off the field as much as possible, for Bruce’s sake mostly, but also in the hopes of lessening the inevitable damage. There were times, however, when his strength was needed. For those occasions we taught him to avoid civilians, and the effort was made. Oftentimes you could find him gently careening around a group of huddled innocents, stepping between them and whatever destructive chaos we found ourselves faced with. This time however, he made a mistake, and when Hulk makes a mistake, the consequences can be gruesome.

He heaved a car, vaulting it over his head at a group of enemy soldiers, but in the midst of our enemies stood the young couple, and as the car came crashing down, they were crushed. The young woman was left barely alive, screaming for her partner, who could be found a few feet away, his head crushed under the fender. Her outcries of pain and grief echoed through the streets, and over the sounds of metal clanging and weapon blasting, piercing our ears, with guilt and shame.

It wasn’t Bruce’s fault. He had no control over what precautions the Hulk did or didn't take, but despite his genius, that concept was something he couldn’t seem to comprehend. Bruce can see what happens during the time he spends as the other guy, he can see the destruction and death, just as much as any of us can, the only difference is that he can’t choose to run away, to duck for cover, to defend rather than attack. He has no control.

It was getting late, our wounds had been tended to, and we were beginning to settle down for the night. For many of us that didn’t necessarily mean sleep, it meant going onto our prospective floors to process the day's events. I, however, wasn’t planning on heading up to my quarters just yet, I wanted to check in on Bruce. I knew for a fact he hadn’t eaten, and I could also guess the toll that the day’s events must’ve taken on his mental state.

As I stepped out of the sleek silver elevator, I could see Bruce out on his balcony, staring down at the destruction from hours before. It was cold outside, and he still hadn’t changed out of the ripped up clothes he scrounged up from the battlefield. His curls were still dirty and his hands were shaky as they clung to his opposing forearms, squeezing himself tightly. He had been crying, the evidence found in the redness of his eyes and the wetness of his cheeks. I grabbed a blanket that laid haphazardly on a nearby chair, and approached the terrace, food in hand.

“Hey,” I whispered, in an attempt not to startle him.

He jumped, before turning around to see who exactly the voice was coming from. When he saw that it was me, I saw the tension in his body release. “Hey Catherine,” he croaked. He was sitting on a patio sofa, staring out over the mangled concrete, flashing police lights and Stark Industry construction workers, that littered the streets of Manhattan.

I gently sat down next to him, before placing the steaming plate of pasta on the nearby coffee table. I took the blanket, and began to wrap it around his shoulders. He winced at my actions, afraid for me to touch him.

“It’s okay” I whispered, as I slowly placed a hand on his, in an attempt to show that I trusted him. I took the blanket and draped it over his broad shoulders before sitting back down again and turning my body towards his. It broke my heart to know that he was afraid to let me touch him, that he thought of himself to be that dangerous.

“Thank you.” he said, finally looking me in the eye.

I grabbed his hand and gave it a loving squeeze, a nonverbal you’re welcome.

He then turned his gaze back to the streets, his expression immediately hardening, holding within it a plethora of sorrowful emotion.

I looked over and saw that the plate of food had stopped steaming, growing colder from the chilly New York air.

“I brought you some pasta, Clint made it so it might taste like shit.” I joked gesturing the plate and fork towards him.

He smiled briefly at my comment. “You didn’t need to do that,'' he said. Before taking the serving of pasta. “You didn’t need to come all the way up here for that.”

Bruce always had a way of deflecting your kind gestures, of making himself feel like he didn’t deserve them. “You haven’t eaten in hours Bruce and even if you had, I still wanted to come up here and check on you anyway.”

He looked up at me, his brown eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, really thank you.” he said before twisting some pasta onto the fork and bringing it to his mouth.

“And surprisingly it doesn’t taste like shit.” He joked causing me to chuckle.

We both sat and watched the policeman directing traffic as he ate, all within a state of silence. From an outside perspective Bruce wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but when you took the time to get to know him, it wasn’t long before you realized that the man could talk your ear off. When he was passionate or excited about something, he could talk for hours, patiently explaining every particle, and every computation. Watching his face light up when I would ask a question, or when he realized that I was understanding, had become an occurrence I adored. Tonight, however, he didn’t utter a word. Probably in the fear that he may break down in front of me.

He finished up his meal quickly, he must’ve been starving, before placing his empty plate down on the table, and looking back to the street. It was honestly nice to see the city being picked up, to remind ourselves that the damage done can be fixed. There are certain types of destruction, however, that cannot me mended.

Two EMTs approached a pile of rubble. We witnessed their struggling to retrieve something, and to our horror they emerged with the body of a woman. They checked her vitals, and by the looks of dismay, it became apparent to us that she was dead. The emergency workers retrieved a body bag, and gently zipped up her carcass, thus sealing her fate. My heart ached as I thought of her family. That innocent woman could have been a wife, a parent, a child. Now remembered as a life cut short, lost to those they loved forevermore. I felt the pang of guilt press down on my chest, my mind overcome with the thought that that we could’ve somehow prevented the gruesome scene sprawled out before my eyes.

I looked over to Bruce, his eyes wide as he gazed upon the tragic scene that lay before us. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, I swear he didn’t even blink. He felt as though he deserved to watch this scene, to wallow in the pain that he may have caused.The screams of that young woman probably still echoing in his mind. I reached over and put a hand on his back, before rubbing small circles.

“Bruce let’s go inside okay. We don’t have to watch this” I said softly, as I gently gripped his chin pulling his gaze away from the street below to look at me.

He nodded in agreement, more concerned for my well-being that his. We both stood up and walked back inside to his sitting area, my hand still resting softly on the curvature of his back, as we took our seats on his familiar sofa. I had spent many nights sitting in this same spot, whether that be drinking and laughing with him and Tony, or after a mission in a similar situation as this one, I felt at home here, with Bruce. There were even some mornings where I had accidentally fallen asleep on that very cushion, only to awaken and find myself perfectly tucked in, with the smell of maple pancakes wafting from the kitchen.

After watching what had just happened, Bruce was trying even harder to hold back his emotions. He sat there, his hands shaking as they clasped together, his head hung in shame staring at his feet, his eyes glistening with tears. I scooted closer to him, before wrapping an arm around his feeble frame, my thumb gently rubbing his shoulder. He leaned into my touch, his weight shifting so his body pressed into my side.

“What happened today wasn’t your fault.” I whispered, rubbing my hand up and down his back, in an attempt to bring him back to reality, away from whatever thoughts plagued his mind.

He pulled away, recoiling at the sound of my words that were telling him the exact opposite of what he had been telling himself. “I-I saw it happen, If I had just taken control, if I had just…”, he looked down once more, placing his head in his hands in an act of frustration. He wasn’t angry at me, he was angry at the Hulk for not being more careful, and mostly he was angry at himself. Angry that he couldn’t save them from the giant he was forcibly given the responsibility to manage.

I will never know what it is like to be plagued with something like the Hulk. The risk of danger and violence forever living just under the skin, unable to be fully contained or controlled. I will never know exactly what Bruce suffers through, but in this situation I unfortunately had some expertise.

I sighed, causing Bruce to look up from his sorrowful stance, as I adjusted my sitting position in the effort to make myself more comfortable.

“Ten years ago, I got a call from Fury telling me I was needed in Chicago for a negotiation. Some prick wanted access to SHIELDS weapon blueprints, in exchange for what I was told was “highly classified cargo”. I was instructed to give the contact false intel, it was risky, but nothing I wasn’t used to. “

“I had guessed that this special cargo would have been some sort of weapon, or at the worst maybe a high profile hostage, but when I arrived on location it turned out to be so much worse. These masked bastards had children, I’m talking little kids, lined up execution style. They looked so scared…”

At this point my breaths had become more shaky, causing me to take a moment to gather my senses. Bruce had scooted himself closer in an attempt to comfort me.

“I was so fucking pissed at Fury for not telling me, I just- I wasn’t prepared ya know?”

Bruce nodded and rested his hand on mine as if to let me know that I had his full attention.

“I proceeded with the negotiation, and at first it seemed like it had gone off without a hitch. My partner sweeped the place, and I was told that every child was safe and accounted for. Things, however, went to shit when he insisted the calculations on the blueprints were off. He pointed his gun at me, and without hesitation I blasted him. What I didn't see was the little boy who had been standing behind him.”

My eyes were now filled with tears, and my emotions made it so it was harder to speak.

“I- I killed him. He must’ve been hiding, and they didn’t count him. He was so scared, but there was nothing I could do. I-”

Bruce’s arm had now been gently wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me against his side.

“He was perfectly innocent. So, I guess that makes me a killer.” I whispered.

“No,” Bruce softly uttered. “Catherine, no you’re not-”

I pulled away from his grasp. “I should’ve looked closer, I should’ve double checked I-I”

“Stop, that wasn't your fault.”

I paused for a moment to regain my senses, before turning to look Bruce in the eye.

“Bruce, I killed that little boy, me myself and I. I was in control of my decision making, I did that. So, if that poor boy’s death wasn’t my fault, then how is what happened out there today your’s?”

“Catherine it’s not the same.”

“Your damn right it’s not the same. If anything, I'm at more fault than you are. I, Catherine King, am a killer.”

He looked at me saddened by the words I said, “Don’t associate yourself with that, you’re not that, not you. I’m the monster.”

I took his face in my hands, forcing him to look me directly in the eye. “Why can't you grant yourself the same mercy you’ve given me?” He looked down, at a loss for words.

“Bruce Banner, you are no killer, you are no monster. I know what evil looks like, and you aren’t it. Everyday I go out there and find myself met with the absolute worst shit that the world can offer. So, when I get back, I go see you. I go up to the lab, or come find you here because Bruce, you remind me that there’s still good left. You make me feel safe. I couldn’t feel that way about you if you were a monster.”

At first he sat there in awe, at a loss for words. The last few years of Bruce’s life had been ones of fear, isolation, and self-deprecation. His kind nature and mild-mannered disposition, met with violence, scorn and pain. He didn’t deserve to have gone through all that he did, but he didn’t realize that. His experiences were those fit for the monster that he and the world had so convinced himself he was. So, at the sound of my words, he began to tear up, not because of sadness or fear, but out of gratitude. Ever since the accident no one one had ever told Bruce that they felt safe in his presence. That they didn’t see him as a potential threat, a ticking time bomb.

After a moment, I noticed the look on his face grow soft, as he pulled me into an embrace. His chin resting on my head, as his arms wrapped around me. His hold was gentle, but all encompassing. It was as if he was afraid he’d hurt me if he squeezed too tight, but everything within him was telling him to never let go. I tightly hugged him back, carding my fingers through his hair, as I guided his head to rest in the curvature of my neck, all in the hopes of making him feel the truth behind my words, to make him feel human.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

And in that moment, with the two of us intertwined in the others embrace, we felt safe.

#bruce banner #bruce banner x ofc #bruce banner angst #bruce banner fanfiction #bruce banner needs a hug #SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A HUG #marvel oc #king chronicles

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hookedonapirate · 4 years ago

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Book Update

If anyone is wondering when Hard To Handle will be coming out, I have some news! So, for those who don't know, Hard To Handle is an original A Helping Hand rewrite featuring Harper and Owen (Killian and Emma) and will be part 2 of the series. And if you haven't guessed yet, part 1 features Audrey and Brady (Elsa and Liam from A Helping Hand) with a Harper and Brady friendship. For those interested in their story, I have a little treat for you below. However, this Sneak peek doesn't show Audrey and Brady meeting yet because I haven't gotten that far.

This is sort of an enemies to lovers story (I say sort of because their "enemy" status in the beginning is too complicated to slap a label on it) that starts off with Harper and Audrey butting heads with their new neighbor, Brady, and him and Audrey exchanging love hate letters. 😉 Then Brady and Audrey form an alliance and break up Harper and Bryce. I promise it's not evil like it sounds because Brady discovers Bryce is cheating on Harper. Remember, Bryce is the Neal of AHH.

This book is a bit darker than book 2 because of the toxic nature of Harper's relationship with Bryce, and because Audrey often pays the price for his shenanigans, but there's still humor and fun in this one.

Anyway, here are the first few chapters. I may post more if anyone's interested ❤️

Chapter One

Brady

There are strange sounds coming from the unit next door.

Laughter maybe?

Yes, definitely laughter.

More like Cackling. From one—make that two—females.

Two loud, annoying females.

Just great.

I take pride in being a fairly simple man who doesn’t need much to be happy. A few things like fishing, enjoying an ice-cold beer and having a few moments of quiet time usually does the trick. Even the sound the can makes whenever I crack open the pull tab of Coors Light is music to my ears. I finally have time to relax after sweating my ass off from all the unpacking I did. I just moved in today and couldn’t stand the idea of tripping over boxes or searching through them every time I needed to use something. I was unable to stop unpacking until every single item in those boxes had a home.

Now I’m able to sit back in my patio chair, prop my feet up on the plastic stool and breathe in the pleasantly cool evening air, enjoy a refreshing, ice-cold beer and some quiet time.

Or at least I was able to until my air of tranquil serenity was so rudely disturbed by my cackling neighbors.

They could at least close their balcony doors, so the entire building doesn’t have to hear them.

I’m already in a foul mood, and the two laughing hyenas aren’t helping. If anything, my mood is worse than it was when I was packing.

They, however, sound like they’re having a grand old time. Doing what exactly, I’m not sure, but it sounds like one of them needed a break from studying and the other one is encouraging her to get drunk and let loose. Which means they’re college students.

Just fucking perfect.

This is exactly why I moved off campus, even though it meant paying rent and enduring a much longer commute to work.

It’s just my luck to get stuck living next to two loud teenagers or early twenty-something-year-olds. I’m around college students all the time, considering I’m an instructor; I don't need to live next to them, too. I learned that very quickly.

Young adults, my ass. More like impudent children.

I feel like the property management should’ve included that minor detail in the apartment listing. Or that not everyone is required to follow their uniform policies.

A peaceful, friendly community? Ha!

The management will definitely be hearing from me about their false advertising.

“Dude, I’m sorry to tell you this, Harp, but your boyfriend’s a fucking loser! Even Elisa said so!”

“He’s just misunderstood!”

“Misunderstood?! Bryce is such a creep!”

“Is not!”

I take a swig of my beer through gritted teeth. I really wish I had a TV right now.

It won’t be delivered until tomorrow, though. Which is very unfortunate and inconvenient at the moment because I need a distraction from reality. Listening to their conversation makes me furious and sad at the same time because it reminds me of me and my brother arguing about his girlfriend. I kept trying to tell Owen she was no good for him, but he wouldn’t listen. I bet this Bryce guy isn’t married, though.

Or maybe he is; I really don’t know.

I need something to take my mind off the overwhelming urge I feel to hop on a plane, fly to Chicago and kick my brother’s ass for being the fucking moron he is. And let me tell you, the urge is very strong right now. Earlier today, Owen told me the woman he’s been seeing is married. They’ve been dating for six months, during which she was lying to him the entire time. I already didn’t like her very much to begin with because she was a controlling bitch—I’m the only one who’s allowed to be a controlling bitch to my brother—and because ever since he started seeing her, I haven't been able to hang out with him very much. Whenever we made plans, he canceled them because Naomi wanted to spend time with him instead. And he was my best friend. Now he tells me she’s married and that he’s still staying with her.

What the actual fuck?

He’s so brainwashed by her, I couldn’t talk a lick sense into that goddamn head of his. Now he wants me to be okay with them staying together while she’s still with her husband?

Fuck that shit.

“Okay listen, if you’re going to talk shit about my boyfriend, we’re going to need more wine.”

“Agreed.”

It becomes silent next door for a few minutes, which makes me sigh in relief. Soon I hear, “Son of a fucking bitch!”

There’s a litany of curses and then, “We need a new corkscrew!”

“But we’re too drunk to drive anywhere!”

Damn, if only I had a corkscrew so they could drink more wine, get drunker and become even louder and more annoying than they already are.

That’s actually not a bad idea, though. If they’re anything like my ex-girlfriend, the quicker they get drunk, the quicker they’ll be ready to sleep. The quicker I’ll finally have my peace and quiet.

I contemplate driving down to the corner store, but what would I even say if I showed up at their door with a corkscrew they didn’t ask for? Oh, hi, I was eavesdropping on your conversation and took it upon myself to go to the store and buy you this corkscrew so you could both drink yourselves into an alcohol-induced coma and I could finally have some peace and quiet?

Nope, I definitely can’t say that.

Chapter Two

Audrey

“Son of a fucking bitch!”

When I rush into the kitchen to see why my roommate’s cussing up a storm, I’m expecting the counter and floor to be covered in wine and shattered glass, even though I didn’t hear any glass break, but Harper’s just holding the corkscrew and staring at the top of the bottle.

“What’s wrong?”

“We need a new corkscrew!” Harper grabs the bottle of wine and points the top of it at me. The cork is still jammed into the neck of the bottle, and the worm of the corkscrew is stuck inside it.

Which is very unfortunate.

She’s been studying her ass off, except for the occasional interruptions from her asshat of a boyfriend, Bryce. She had a really tough time getting him to finally leave so she could study, and she had to literally push him out the door. So I thought Harper could use a break and I could feel saner again by indulging in some wine. But one bottle of wine quickly turned into two. Or rather, it would’ve if not for the end of the corkscrew inside the cork.

Fuck.

“But we can’t drive anywhere,” I point out, considering how tipsy we both are, even though we only went through one bottle between us. But we’re both lightweights.

“Hold on,” she says, picking up her phone from the counter.

I cock my brow. “You do realize Amazon Prime takes two days to ship, right?”

“Yeah, I know, Aud. I’m not that drunk.” After looking at something on her phone for a minute, she leaves the kitchen, returns with one of her tennis shoes and sets the phone down to pick up the wine bottle. She places the bottom of the bottle inside the heel of the shoe, raises her hands above her head and goes to one of the walls in a striking pose.

I rush over and put my hand on her arm to stop her. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“This will push the cork out.”

“But won’t the wine spill all over?”

“Not if I can only push the cork part of the way out and then pull it off the rest of the way.” She hits the shoe against the wall a few times, but the cork doesn’t budge.

“Why don’t we see if any of the neighbors have a corkscrew,” I suggest. “This method doesn’t seem to be working.”

She sighs and drops her arms. “Who do you think would have one?”

“What about Mandy? She’s a wine drinker.”

Harper shakes her head. “She doesn’t get home from the office until late on Mondays. And there’s no way I’m trying mister grumpy pants across the hall. It always seems like he’ll snap at any moment. Plus, once his dog starts yapping, she never shuts up.”

“What about the new guy who just moved in next door?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if he’s an ax murderer?”

“I saw him earlier when he was moving in. He seems harmless enough, and is kind of cute, actually.”

“Yeah, well so was Ted Bundy. And I’d like to stay alive with my head intact, thank you very much.” I haven’t seen the new neighbor yet, but I don’t think going over to a stranger's place while we’re both a little tipsy is the best idea, for several reasons.

She flicks her hand. “Well, you don’t have to go. I will.” She grabs her keys, removes her pepper spray from the attached chain and throws her keys back on the counter before heading toward the door.

“Harp, wait…”

Ignoring my pleas as I follow behind her, she slips into her Nike slides. “I’ll be fine. I got my handy dandy pepper spray,” she says, holding it up.

Before I can talk some sense into her, she’s already dashing out the door and calling out over her shoulder, “If I’m not back in five minutes, call 911!”

I sigh and lean against the door, pressing my ear against it so I can listen for Harper’s screams or any signs of a struggle.

Chapter Three

Brady

When I head inside from the balcony, there’s a knock on the front door. I scratch my head and stride over to answer it, wondering who it could be. I just moved into this apartment today, so I literally don’t know any of my neighbors yet.

I open the door to a skinny blonde with green eyes, long, shimmering hair and soft pink lips. She’s easy on the eyes, but I have a feeling she’s one of the laughing hyenas next door. She’s not as young as I thought she’d be, though. She looks to be around my brother’s age. When I give her a once-over, I notice the pepper spray she’s trying to hide in her fist.

I wince at the sight of it. She doesn’t even have the safety lock on.

I offer a tight-lipped smile. “Hello.”

“HiI’myournextdoorneighbor,” she mumbles, her words slurred together. She’s a little tipsy and has to lean against the doorframe so she doesn’t fall over.

“How can I help you, next-door neighbor?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the pepper spray. The sight of it brings back too many painful memories. Memories I’d rather keep locked away.

“I was wondering if you had a corkscrew my roommate and I could borrow?”

On the balcony, I wanted to strangle the two neighbors who were interrupting my quiet time, but now I feel very protective. She’s obviously drunk, yet stumbling over to a neighbor she doesn’t even know. I mean, I like to consider myself an overall decent human being, or as I’ve been called before, “one of the good guys,” but this woman doesn’t know that. She knows nothing about me, yet she’s over here asking to borrow a corkscrew. And yes, she’s carrying a weapon, but I doubt she knows how to use it properly, and with how tipsy she is, I doubt she’d even be fast enough to use it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

Her smile fades, but she looks determined, so I’m hoping she doesn’t go knocking on all her neighbors' doors asking for a corkscrew.

“I could buy you one,” I offer, trying to sound as polite as possible. Which is difficult when I’m irritated.

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Really? You’d do that?”

I cross my arms and give her a stern look. “On one condition.”

She nods excitedly. “Of course, anything.”

I’m so glad I’m a nice guy because this woman seems far too trusting, and I’m afraid of what would’ve happened if I were anything less than a decent human being. “I’ll go and get you a corkscrew if you return to your apartment and keep the noise down for the rest of the night. And maybe close your balcony doors so the entire building can’t overhear your childish conversation.”

I’m thinking this is a very reasonable request. I’m willing to leave the comfort of my apartment to get in my car and go to the corner store to get some women I don’t know a corkscrew, and all they have to do is put a cap on the noise.

But the scowl on her face tells me she doesn’t agree. “First of all,” she raises her index finger, “ruu-uuuuuuude!” She raises another finger. “Secondly, my roommate and I aren’t children. We’re having a stressful week and were finally able to relax and drink some wine when the corkscrew broke. But that’s okay, we’ll figure out how to get the cork off ourselves!” She turns on her heels and starts to head toward her apartment, but spins around again and gets in my space, jabbing a finger at my chest. “And thirdly, we weren’t being that loud!”

I clench my jaw as she storms away and slams the door shut after disappearing inside her apartment. I throw my own door shut, huffing in frustration.

Why couldn’t my neighbors all be sweet old ladies?

So much for having a relaxing evening!

I head back to my balcony when there’s another knock on the door.

“Son of bitch,” I curse under my breath as I march over to the door and yank it open. “What, now?” I ask angrily when I see her standing at my door again.

“I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

I furrow my brows, growing more agitated. “A what?”

She sighs as though I’m the one inconveniencing her. “A dress shoe,” she says impatiently. “Surely you’ve been to a wedding or funeral. You must have one.”

“I do, but why do you—” Before I get the chance to answer, she shoves past me and heads toward my bedroom.

I follow her in there and cross my arms over my chest in the doorway as I watch her go to my closet. “What in the ever-loving hell are you doing?”

“I told you, I need to borrow a dress shoe.”

Seriously?!

The audacity of this woman waltzing into my apartment and taking one of my shoes! “That’s funny because I never said you could borrow one.”

“Wow, your closet is super organized,” she comments as she looks around, easily finding one of my brown dress shoes and grabbing it from the shoe rack.

I’m still standing in the bedroom doorway when she tries to get through. I reach for my shoe, but she steps back and aims her pepper spray at me. I instinctively duck out of the line of fire and lunge forward, grabbing the pepper spray from her hand and twisting the safety lock.

“Wait, please don’t kill me! My roommate’s calling 911 if I’m not back in two minutes!” she cries, shielding herself with her hands.

I sigh in exasperation and extend the pepper spray to her. “I’m not trying to murder you, I was trying to get my shoe back.”

She slowly drops her arms and narrows her eyes as she snatches the spray from my hand. “Then why did you take away my weapon?”

I scoff. “It was a reflex so I didn’t get sprayed in the face since I wasn’t actually attacking you. Do you know how many times I’ve been pepper-sprayed in the face?”

“Why, because you’re a rapist?!” she accuses, stepping away from me and aiming her pepper spray at me again, even though the safety is still on. She probably doesn’t even know that, though.

I sigh in exasperation and raise my hands in surrender. “No, because I was in the Marines. Getting pepper-sprayed was part of my training. It taught me how to use my weapons and equipment.”

She lowers the spray, guilt etched in her features. “Oh, sorry. My roommate said you might be another Ted Bundy, and I don’t want to be raped and murdered.”

“Yeah, because breaking into your neighbor’s apartment and stealing their shoe is a good way to prevent that from happening,” I say, my words laden with sarcasm.

“Well, no, but that’s what the pepper spray was for.”

“It won’t do you any good if you don’t use it properly. You need to have a firm grip and use your thumb to activate it so it can’t be taken out of your hand like I just took it out of yours.”

“Thanks for the tip.” She raises the pepper spray at me again and presses the button to activate it. But it’s still disarmed. Once she realizes her mistake, her eyes widen.

I cock my head to the side and plant my hands on my hips. “Really?”

She offers an apologetic smile, then scurries toward me, ducks under my arm and squeezes past me, darting for the front door. “I’ll bring it right back, I promise!”

I let her go and exhale another deep sigh. What could she possibly need my shoe for anyway? To squash a spider or something? Can’t she use her own Goddamn shoe for that?

Right, she probably doesn’t want to get her precious shoe all gross, so she’s using mine instead. Which means my shoe will be returned with spider guts on the bottom.

Just great.

I go to the balcony and curtly grab my beer so I can head inside and not have to hear every goddamn word of their conversation again.

Pound, pound, pound.

What the hell?

It sounds like they’re banging something against the wall.

My shoe, perhaps?

Pound, pound, pound.

Then I hear a loud pop!

“Yessssss!”

They got the cork out.

“Holy shit, you made a mess!”

“Sorry, but at least we can keep drinking!”

“Woohoo!”

I head inside and close the sliding doors, hoping to go to bed and get some rest. But then there’s another knock on the front door.

“Fucking hell,” I groan as I go over to answer it. It’s probably the blonde neighbor with my shoe, but I’m not sure I want it back.

Sure enough, it’s her.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it.” She hands over my shoe with a small smile and heads back to her apartment.

“You didn’t borrow it, you stole it!” I call after her. But she completely ignores me.

“And sorry I tried to spray you...twice!” Before I can respond, she’s already inside her unit.

I bring the shoe to my nose to get a closer whiff of it. I noticed the smell as soon as she handed it to me. “Hey, why does my shoe smell like wine?!”

But I’m talking to the door at this point.

I shake my head and go back inside, trying to decide if I should try to get the smell out or just toss the pair into the trash. For now, I set it aside and go to the bathroom to get ready for bed, hoping my neighbors will down the bottle, get tired and pass out so I can have a quiet evening.

No such luck.

They turn on the music, and I can hear the pounding bass through the wall and also, “Yeeeeesssss, this is my jam!”

The walls are actually shaking.

Why do the other neighbors put up with this! It’s absurd, really.

They should be evicted.

I contemplate calling the police to make a complaint, but this is New York City; the police have better things to do than respond to non-emergency noise complaints. So I return to my bedroom, strip down to my boxers and toss my clothes into the hamper before slipping into bed. I can still hear the noises coming from the unit next door, but thankfully, I’m a patient man. I’m sure they’ll get tired soon and go to bed. Or at least I hope so.

But an hour passes, and the music still doesn’t cease. I groan and roll over on my stomach, pulling the pillow over my head, wishing I had noise-canceling headphones right now. I’m normally against the idea of something that cancels all sounds, because it also cancels sounds that alert danger. Like if a burglar broke into the apartment or there’s an explosion or gunshot. But right now, I’d do anything to get a good night’s sleep. Between arguing with my brother over the phone into the wee hours of the night yesterday and spending all day moving into my new place and unpacking, I’m completely exhausted. Not to mention I always start my day at five in the morning. My classes don’t start until eight a.m., but I like to get an early start to my day. I got up that early when I was in the Marines, and some habits just never die.

I’m about to get up and go down the hall to ask them to turn down the noise, but I’ve already asked her once and she got offended, so I doubt it will do any good.

Chapter Four

Audrey

I’m immediately regretting the two bottles of Barefoot Harper and imbibed last night. My head is pounding, I’m dehydrated, and I have to be at work in an hour. I take some aspirin, drink a full glass of water before jumping into the shower.

When I leave my bedroom, dressed and ready to go, Harper is shuffling out of her room.

“Morning,” she says groggily, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

“Morning, Harp.” I head to the kitchen to make her some coffee. I’m not a coffee drinker myself, I prefer tea, but I know Harper can’t function in the morning without a fresh cup of hot Folgers.

“Why did we drink on a weeknight again?” she groans, taking a seat at the table.

“That’s an excellent question.” I pour water into the pot and place it in the coffeemaker, turning it on.

Harper buries her face in the cradle of her arms on the table as I grab some aspirin and a tall glass, filling it with water. She doesn’t have to work today, but she does have classes. She’s already a registered nurse like me, but she’s going for her master’s degree to open up more job opportunities. And also because she’s an overachiever, when it comes to her career at least. I just wish she were an overachiever when it came to other aspects of her life, like the kind of men she dates. Or maybe Harper was purposefully aiming for Class-A levels of douchebaggery when she started dating Bryce. If that’s the case, then she definitely went above and beyond expectations. And while she is my best friend and roommate, there’s only so much sense I can talk into her. And I'm not willing to let some lowlife scumbag get in between our friendship.

“Here, these will help.”

Harper lifts her head and takes the aspirin and glass. When she pops the pills in her mouth, swallowing them down with a big gulp of water, she already appears to be more human again.

I grab my keys and strap my purse over my shoulder, heading toward the front door.

“Speaking of drinking, are you going to be here Friday night?”

I snort-laugh and turn to look at her, placing my free hand on my hip, knowing exactly where this is going. She’s still recovering from her hangover and already has booze on the brain. “That depends. Is Bryce going to be here?”

When she takes a slow sip of her water, I know what her answer is before she says it out loud. “Well, considering he’s the one who invited a few people over, yes, he’ll be here.”

“Then no, I definitely won’t.” I head for the door, trying to leave again.

“That’s a shame because Bryce has a good-looking friend who thinks you’re gorgeous.”

I spin around, cocking a brow. “Which friend?”

“Treyton. You haven’t met him before, but he saw your pics on Instagram.”

I walk to the table, placing my hands on top of the chair, my key ring dangling from my finger. “How did he find my Instagram account if we’ve never met?”

“Bryce showed it to him.”

What the fuck?

I furrow my brows in confusion. “Okay, why is Bryce showing his friends my Instagram account?”

She smirks. “Because Treyton was asking him if I had any cute, single friends.”

I sigh, not liking the idea of Bryce trying to set his friends up with me. I’ve met some of his guy friends, and neither is one I’d kiss if he were the last man on earth. “Sorry, not interested.”

I remove my hand from the chair and try to leave again.

“Oh, come on, Aud. Give the guy a chance. I mean, I don’t know him that well, but he’s fucking hot.” She picks up her phone from the table and pulls up something before handing it to me across the table. “See for yourself.”

I reluctantly take the device, a heavy sigh leaving my lips. I highly doubt his looks will sway me. Even if is hot, he’s still Bryce’s—

Holy crap.

He’s got those smokey grey eyes, a chiseled jaw and a little smirk on his beautiful face that makes me melt.

Well, fuck.

“So, what do you think?” Harper asks curiously, trying to stifle a smirk as she perches her chin on the back of her joined hands, her elbows resting on the table.

I try not to show how attracted I am to a freaking photo of a guy I’ve never met before, but damn, those eyes are spellbinding, and I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. “Okay, he’s a little cute.”

“A little? Honey, you and I have similar tastes in men, so I know you don’t think he’s just cute.”

“Yeah, that’s true. We usually do, which is why I have no idea how Bryce got your attention. He must have a big dick or something.” I narrow my eyes. “Does he have a big dick? Because that would explain a lot.”

Harper bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, Aud, you know it’s not all about the size! And no, he doesn’t, he’s average, but as much as you hate him, you can’t deny he’s good-looking.”

“Yes, maybe on the outside he’s cute but personality-wise he’s ugly as fuck.”

She sighs in defeat as I hand over her phone. This is just an argument neither of us will ever be able to agree on. Well, until she finally decides to take off those damn rose-colored glasses and sees Bryce as he truly is. But I know it would make Harper happy if I agreed to stay for the party. I know that sometimes she feels out of place considering most of Bryce’s friends are college kids. Normally, she’s the oldest one there, but you could never tell, because she has a baby face and looks at least five years younger than she actually is, so to the other college kids, she's one of them.

“Fine, I’ll be here for the party.”

Harper’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, but if any of his friends grab my ass, I’m leaving.”

She laughs. “Okay.”

The coffee machine beeps, so she gets up from her seat, grabs a mug and creamer and pours the steaming, hot liquid into her cup. She returns to her seat and sips her coffee as I once again try to leave. “Thanks for starting the coffee, Aud.”

“No problem. See you tonight.” I unlock the door, and when I pull it open, I notice a folded up crisp piece of copy paper taped to the outside. I cock my brow and peel it off, unfolding it. I’m expecting it to be from the building management.

But then I read the first line...

To the two hoity-toity princesses,

I immediately suspect it’s from mister grumpy pants across the hall, but the letter is in fancy cursive writing. Who even writes in cursive anymore? Maybe an old lady or mister grumpy pants, I suppose. But he normally doesn’t leave letters. He’ll just knock on the door with his cane and chew us out in person. Harper said the first time he knocked on her door to complain about the noise, he made her cry.

When he tries that shit with me, I give it right back to him and threaten to call the cops on his dog and have her taken to the pound. He tends to leave us alone now. So, I’m surprised he’s resorted to leaving us notes.

Can you kindly tone down your loud music and obnoxious woohooing, laughter and overall commotion that kept me up until 2 a.m.? Some people actually have to work on a Tuesday morning. I, myself, wake at 5 a.m. every single day and am now forced to go to work on three hours of sleep. Luckily the students I teach possess much more class and are at maturity levels you both obviously could never achieve if you actually tried. I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty, as you’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income and never worked a day in your lives, but some people actually have responsibilities and obligations, not just classes they can skip whenever they feel like it. So have a little respect and lower the volume a few notches.

This time you get a warning, but if the noise persists, I will be forced to contact law enforcement. Have a lovely day drinking your Starbucks lattes and trying to get rid of what I hope are nasty hangovers.

Sincerely,

The tired and cranky guy from 8C, thanks to his loud, annoying neighbors

P.S. The blonde who took my brown dress shoe owes me a new pair seeing as it now reeks of Pinot Grigio, thank you very much.

My nostrils flare before I even finish reading the letter. The audacity of this asshole! He doesn’t even know us, hell he hasn’t even met me in person, yet he makes all kinds of false assumptions about us.

I know neither of you could possibly understand waking up early for a job or getting your hands dirty.

What the actual fuck?! Harper and I both wake up at the crack of dawn to go to work at the hospital, and we’re constantly on our feet for at least twelve hours. We only work three days a week, but our jobs are emotionally and physically draining; I mostly use the other four days to sleep, recover, clean the apartment and run errands. So, for someone to say we don’t work or ever get our hands dirty is a blow to the gut. We’re nurses for crying out loud! Getting our hands dirty is part of the job!

Another remark of his that irks me: We’re city girls who probably live on mommy and daddy’s income. My parents would actually laugh out loud if they read this comment. They always tell me how independent I am. Hell, I wouldn’t even allow them to pay for my schooling even though they wanted to; I wanted to do it all on my own, so I had two jobs while I went to college. They also weren’t too happy when I took a job in New York, but they told me if anyone could handle herself in a big city, it was me. Not to mention, Harper had it way worse than me, growing up.

But the fact that this douchebag is so ridiculously wrong about us makes me smile a little. It will feel so goddamn good to make him see the error of his ways.

I’m still carrying the letter with me as I go to my bedroom closet and grab my stationary from the top shelf. I take out a sheet of paper and a pen from the box, replace it on the shelf and return to the kitchen. I hate the idea of using my good paper on this asshole, but if I’m going to stoop to his level and leave a note on his door, I might as well do it with class.

“What’s the note about?” Harper asks with furrowed brows. “I paid the rent just in the nick of time.”

“It’s not from management.” I take the pen and paper to the table and start writing out a letter. “It’s from our friendly neighbor in 8C,” I say sarcastically.

Her eyes widen as she reaches for the letter. “What did he say?”

I look up and hand it to her.

When she reads it over, the sleepiness in her eyes morphs into anger. “What the hell?! Who does he think he is? He doesn’t even know us!”

“Exactly.” I look down again at the paper and continue the sentence I was working on.

I can feel her staring at me as I write. “What are you doing?”

“Replying to him,” I say without taking my eyes off the page.

“What, are we in elementary school?”

“According to him, we are.”

“He’s just a douchebag, you can’t take anything he says seriously.”

I almost laugh. Normally she’s the one wanting revenge when someone wrongs her, and I’m the one having to talk her out of it. “Maybe, but this will teach him not to make assumptions about people.”

After I’m finished, I let her read it before I tape it to his door. I head to work with a smile on my face. This should teach him not to be such a dickhead.

Chapter Five

Brady

Dear self-righteous butthole in 8C,

~~~

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