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d1stalker · 7 months ago

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Second Nature [Logan Howlett]

Summary: In the freezing cold of the wild, you are saved by a man with many secrets. He takes you in, and soon you learn that you’d follow him anywhere. Takes place during The Wolverine (2013)

Warnings: does not accurately follow the events of the movie, hairy logan (heart eyes), misunderstandings

WC: 4.2k - MASTERLIST

----

Northern Canada was just as unforgiving as it was beautiful. The chilled air bit at your skin, and the vast wilderness stretched out endlessly, it was a place where few dare to venture.

It had been days since you’ve seen another soul, your only company being the towering trees and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures in the brush. You weren't not entirely defenceless as a mutant, though your powers were something you keep close to your chest.

The day started like any other—cold, silent, and solitary. You were making your way through the dense forest when you heard it: the deep, guttural growls of a pack of wolves. Your senses went on high alert as you froze, but before you could react, they were upon you.

There were too many of them. You fought as best you could, using your powers in quick, controlled bursts, but the wolves were relentless, and violent. Just as you thought you might not make it out, a figure burst through the trees. He moved with immense speed, claws extended from his hands—no, not quite claws, but something far more lethal. He tore through the wolves with an ease that spoke of years of experience, and within moments, the threat was gone.

You were left standing in the snow, gaping at the man who had just saved your life. He was wild-looking, with long, tangled hair and a thick beard, his eyes fierce and sharp. He didn’t speak at first, just looked you over, assessing mutely, before finally grunting out a rough, “You alright?”

You nodded, though your heart was still pounding from the encounter. “Yeah, thanks to you.”

“Shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said gruffly. “This place isn’t safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” you replied, though you knew full well how close you had come to an early demise. You didn’t offer any explanation for why you were out here, and he didn’t ask. Instead, he simply turned and started walking away, as if saving your life was just another day for him.

You hesitated for a moment before following him. He didn’t seem to mind, and you were curious about the man who had appeared out of nowhere. He led you back to a small, rough cabin hidden deep in the woods. It was clear he had been living here for a while—there was a worn, lived-in look to the place.

Over the next few days, you found yourself staying in that cabin. The man, who you learned was named Logan, didn’t talk much, but he didn’t seem to mind your presence either. You kept your powers hidden, mainly out of habit, but a part of you was unsure of how he would react if he knew the truth. You knew he was some sort of mutant too, but he had an air of someone who had seen too much, who carried a heavy burden, and you weren’t ready to add to that.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, a quiet companionship developed between you. Logan was still rough around the edges, but there were moments when you caught glimpses of something softer beneath the surface. He was a man who had been through hell and survived, but the scars were still there, etched into his soul.

You weren’t sure when you started to think of him as a friend, but it happened slowly, in the small, unspoken ways you helped each other. He taught you things about the wilderness, how to track and hunt, while you offered a quiet presence that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

Then, one day, everything changed. A woman appeared at the cabin, her hair bright red and her demeanour as sharp as a blade. Yukio, she called herself. She had come to find Logan, to tell him that his old friend Yashida was dying and wanted to see him one last time in Japan. Logan was reluctant at first, but Yukio was persistent, and eventually, he agreed.

You hadn’t expected him to invite you along, but when he turned to you with a serious look in his eyes and said, “Come with me,” you found yourself nodding before you could think about it.

----

When you arrived at the estate in Japan, Yukio immediately declared that a cleanup was in order. Logan resisted, of course, but she insisted. You were too tired to argue and knew she was right. You hadn’t had a proper bath in weeks if not months. The little tub in the cabin did barely enough to make you feel freshened up, and the idea of finally being clean was too tempting to pass up.

She led you to your separate rooms, where hot baths and fresh clothes awaited. The water was blissfully warm, and as you soaked, you felt the tension slowly ebb away. You scrubbed your skin clean, washed your hair until it felt soft and light again, and when you finally stepped out of the bath, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. The fresh clothes Yukio provided were simple yet elegant, a far cry from the rough, dirty outfit you’d been wearing for days.

After dressing, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. For the first time in a long while, you felt... pretty. It was a strange sensation after everything that had happened, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Logan already waiting for you when you saw him. Your breath caught in your throat. His long beard was nowhere to be seen, a uniquely styled facial hair left in it’s wake. His hair was trimmed as well. His usual gruff demeanor was still there, but he looked... different. Handsome, in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

He was staring at you too, a look of surprise flickering across his face before he quickly masked it. "You clean up nice," he said lowly.

"Thanks," you replied, trying to sound casual, though you were acutely aware of the way his eyes lingered on you.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, taking in the sight of each other. You had always thought Logan was attractive in a natural, untamed way, but seeing him like this, it made your heart stir in your chest.

Yukio interrupted your thoughts, her voice cutting through the silence. “Good. Now that you two don’t look like wild animals, we can get to work.”

----

Yukio led you and Logan through the estate’s winding paths, the sound of your footsteps muted by the soft ground. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the garden, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to admire the beauty of the place.

Finally, you reached a large, open room where an elderly man sat in a wheelchair, his frail form dwarfed by the spaciousness of the room. Yashida’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and labored, but there was a sense of peace about him, as if he had come to terms with his impending death.

“Logan,” Yukio said softly, her tone respectful as she gestured for him to approach.

Logan stepped forward, his usual confidence tempered by something more subdued. He stopped a few feet from Yashida, his hands clenched at his sides as he struggled to find the right words.

“Yashida,” he eventually said, addressing the man before him. “It’s been a long time.”

Yashida’s eyes slowly opened, and when they focused on Logan, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Logan,” he rasped, his voice weak but filled with warmth. “You came.”

“Yeah,” Logan replied, his tone softening. “I came.”

Yashida’s gaze shifted to you, and you felt a strange mix of emotions as his eyes, still sharp despite his age, studied you intently. “And who is this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

“I’m just a friend,” you said, offering him a small, respectful bow. “I’m here to support Logan.”

Yashida’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Thank you for coming,” he said, his tone sincere. “It means a great deal to me.”

Then, another figure entered the room, a young woman with delicate features and a quiet grace that immediately drew your attention. She moved with the fluidity of someone who was used to being in control, but there was a sadness in her eyes that mirrored Yashida’s.

“Mariko,” Yashida said, his voice softening as he spoke her name. “Come, meet Logan.”

Mariko stepped forward, her gaze flicking to Logan with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Logan,” she said quietly, her voice as soft as the rustling leaves outside. “It’s an honour.”

Logan inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he looked away. “Likewise.”

There was an awkward silence as you stood there, feeling like an outsider in this reunion. You watched the way Mariko looked at Logan, her gaze filled with something you couldn’t quite place—respect, maybe, or perhaps a cautious admiration. Whatever it was, it made your chest tighten with an emotion you weren’t ready to examine.

“Please, sit,” Yashida said, gesturing to the cushions on the floor. “We have much to discuss.”

You sat down beside Logan, feeling the tension in the room build as Yashida began to speak, his words measured and deliberate. He spoke of his time with Logan, of the bond they had shared during the war, and of the gratitude he felt for the life Logan had given him. But there was something else in the way Yashida spoke—an underlying desperation that made you uneasy.

“I have a gift for you, Logan,” Yashida said, his eyes locking onto Logan’s with an intensity that belied his frail appearance. “A gift that will free you from your suffering.”

Logan stiffened beside you, his expression darkening. “I don’t need anything from you, Yashida,” he announced.

“But you do,” Yashida insisted, his tone growing more urgent. “You’ve lived long enough to see the world change, to see those you care about die. I can give you what you’ve always wanted—mortality.”

The room fell silent as Yashida’s words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing down on you like a physical force. You glanced at Logan, searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

“I didn’t come here for this,” Logan said after a long pause. “I came because you asked.”

Yashida’s expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he nodded slowly. “Very well,” he said. “But the offer stands. Should you change your mind...”

Logan didn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he stared at the floor. You could feel the tension radiating off him, and it took everything in you not to reach out and touch his arm, to offer some kind of comfort.

----

The air was thick with the scent of incense and the soft murmur of prayers as you stood at Yashida’s funeral, surrounded by mourners dressed in black. The solemnity of the occasion hung heavy, but there was an undercurrent of tension that you couldn’t ignore. Logan was beside you, his expression unreadable, though you knew him well enough by now to sense the unease in his posture.

In that moment, your mind wandered to the days you’d spent in the Yukon, the solitude that had once been your only companion. You hadn’t ended up there by choice. No, you had been running—from a world that feared what it didn’t understand, from people who saw you as a threat. The fact that you were a mutant had always set you apart, but it was also the reason you had been hunted, feared, and ultimately driven into the wild.

You still hadn’t told Logan about your powers, not out of a lack of trust—hiding them had simply become second nature to you. But as you stood at the funeral, watching the proceedings with a growing sense of dread, you realized that your secret was about to come crashing down around you.

It happened so quickly that you barely had time to react. One moment, the funeral was proceeding as expected, and the next, the mourners were scattering in panic as a group of Yakuza thugs stormed the ceremony, their eyes locked on Mariko, Yashida’s granddaughter.

“Mariko!” Logan’s voice was a deep growl as he pushed through the crowd, his adamantium claws shooting out. You sprang into action right behind him, your heart pounding as you watched the Yakuza close in on Mariko. You knew that even though he was fast, Logan wouldn’t make it in to her in time.

Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down, and your instincts took over. Thrusting your hands out, you called for your powers and the air around you responded, swirling with a sudden, powerful gust that sent the Yakuza stumbling back. Logan's head whipped over to you, his eyes widening in shock, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Fire erupted from your fingertips, a controlled burst that seared the ground between Mariko and the attackers, creating a barrier they couldn’t cross. But the attackers didn’t yield, and they regrouped quickly, readying themselves for another assault.

Logan was at your side in an instant. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—” you faltered, the words catching in your throat as you continued to fend off the enemy. The earth beneath you trembled as you called on your powers again, sending a wave of stone and dirt crashing into the Yakuza, knocking them off their feet.

“I didn’t know how,” you finally admitted tightly, from the strain of maintaining control over the elements.

Logan’s expression was a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper. But he didn’t have time to respond before the Yakuza pressed their attack, forcing both of you to focus on the immediate threat.

Together, you and Logan fought them off, your powers weaving through the chaos as Logan’s claws tore through the ranks of the attackers. It was over in minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When the last of the Yakuza fell, you stood there, breathing hard, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Mariko was safe, but the damage was done. Logan turned to you, his gaze intense. “You didn’t trust me,” he said, the hurt clear in his voice.

“It wasn’t about trust,” you said quietly, lowering your hands as the last remnants of your power faded into the air. “I’ve spent my whole life hiding who I am, Logan. It’s not something I can just turn off.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “I get that,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “But you knew about me––my mutation. I thought—”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice breaking slightly. “It’s just… I didn’t want to bring attention to it. I wanted to leave it in the past.”

Logan’s expression softened, the anger fading as he listened to your words. “You don’t owe me an explanation,” he said after a moment, surprising you. “But I want you to know… I would’ve understood.”

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. It was strange, how this man who had saved you, who had become your friend, could look at you with such understanding, after you had hid something so important from him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words heavy with the weight of everything you hadn’t said before.

He didn’t say much after, just turning and heading toward Mariko, going to check on her.

----

In the days following the incident at Yashida’s funeral, something between you and Logan shifted. It was subtle at first—an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before, a hesitation in his eyes whenever he looked at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed, and not for the better.

Logan had started pulling away from you. At first, you thought it was because of Mariko, and his new mission—that he had simply found something else to focus on. But as the days went by, you realized that it was more than that. Logan wasn’t just distant—he was hurt. And it wouldn't take a genius to know why.

He had been wounded by your secret, by the fact that he thought you hadn’t trusted him enough to reveal your powers. You had tried to explain, to make him understand that it wasn’t about him, but the damage was done.

The distance between you pained you. You had grown to care for him deeply. It had started as friendship, a bond forged in Canada, but somewhere along the way, you knew your feelings had begun to change. You hadn’t meant to fall for him, but it happened all the same, creeping up on you like the first rays of dawn after a long, cold night.

But as you watched him pull away from you, and towards Mariko, those feelings felt like a mistake.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want Logan to be happy—far from it. You cared about him too much to wish anything but the best for him. Still, seeing the way he looked at her, the way he seemed drawn to her despite the mayhem surrounding them, made something inside you ache. You had thought that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between you and Logan, but it was clear now that whatever you had shared was truly just a friendship. Nothing more.

And that realization hurt more than you cared to admit.

You tried to push those feelings aside, to focus on the task at hand. There was still so much to do, and Japan was far from safe. The Yakuza were remained a threat, and Yashida’s legacy was more tangled than you had ever imagined. But no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the helping, your mind kept drifting back to Logan and Mariko.

So, you did the only thing you could—you pulled away. You gave Logan and Mariko space, leaving them to each other whenever possible. It hurt to do it, to step back when all you wanted was to be by Logan’s side, like you’d for months, but you convinced yourself it was for the best. If this was what Logan wanted, if she was who he needed, then who were you to stand in the way?

Even as you distanced yourself, you continued to help them in whatever ways you could. You were still in Japan, still part of the mission Logan got roped into, but you became a shadow, always there but never too close. You helped Mariko when she needed it, fought alongside Logan when necessary, but you never lingered, never gave him a reason to think you wanted anything more.

----

When the trip was over, and the two of you returned back to Canada, things were different. The easy companionship you had shared was strained, the unspoken tension between you making every moment feel heavy with uncertainty. You weren’t sure where you stood with Logan anymore, and it was driving you mad.

He had been quiet since your return, keeping to himself, and you had done the same, unsure of how to bridge the growing distance between you. It hurt, more than you wanted to admit, but you weren’t sure what to do about it.

You had spent the day wandering the snowy landscape, trying to clear your head, but no amount of fresh air could chase away the doubts that had settled in your mind. By the time you returned to the cabin, the sun was beginning to set. You hesitated at the door, your hand hovering over the handle as you debated whether to go inside or keep walking.

Before you could decide, the door swung open, and Logan stood there, his expression unreadable. “You’ve been gone a while,” he said, his voice rough from disuse.

“Just needed some air,” you replied quietly as you stepped inside.

Logan closed the door behind you, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. Then, “We need to talk.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting with anxiety as you followed him to the small living area. You sat on the edge of the worn couch, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you waited for him to start.

Logan remained standing, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’ve been thinking… about everything that happened in Japan.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “So have I.”

He looked up at you then, “I don’t know how to do this,” is all he could get out.

“I know."

“I’ve been thinking about why things got so messed up between us,” Logan continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “And I think… I think it’s because I was hurt that you didn’t tell me about your powers, that you’re a mutant too. I took it personally, and that was wrong.”

You shook your head, “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Logan. I just… I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Logan stepped closer, his hand resting on the back of the couch as he looked down at you. “You didn’t lose me,” he said quietly. “But I think I almost lost you because I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s why I pulled away. I didn’t want to get hurt, so I put up walls.”

“And Mariko? I mean, it's not like you need to justify anything to me, but--fuck--I...” You started, letting your words drift off. You didn't know where you were going with this, but Logan would have to be a real idiot to not catch on.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and it scared you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

“When we were in Japan… I was hurt. Not just by everything that was happening, but by what I thought was going on between us. I felt like you didn’t trust me, like you were keeping me at arm’s length, and I didn’t know how to handle that. And then there was Mariko… she was there, and I turned to her because… I don’t know, I guess I was looking for something to distract me from what I was feeling.”

You stayed silent, letting him speak.

“But it wasn’t what you think,” he affirmed. “It wasn’t about feelings, or love, or anything like that. Mariko was just… there. I was in a bad place, and she was someone who didn’t expect anything from me, who didn’t know me the way you do. We got physical, but it wasn’t real."

You blinked, trying to make sense of his words. “So, it didn’t mean anything?”

Logan shook his head. “Not the way you’re thinking. I won’t lie to you—it happened, and I’m sorry for that. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care about you,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “It was because I did, and I didn’t know how to deal with my own emotions. I made a mistake, and it hurt you, and I hate that.”

You could see the regret in his eyes, the way he was struggling to find the right words. “I thought you wanted to be with her,” you admitted, “That I was just… in the way.”

He swallowed, “You were never in the way. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that.”

You looked up at him. “Where does that leave us then, Logan? Should I… should I stay here? With you?”

Logan’s eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face in his hand. “I want you to stay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But only if that’s what you want too.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as a wave of relief washed over you. “I want to stay,” you whispered back, your heart pounding in your chest. “I need to know that we’re on the same page though, that this is more than just… friendship.”

His thumb brushed against your cheek. “It is,” he confirmed, “I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I want to figure this out, whatever it is between us.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a small, trembling smile. “I want that too.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He leaned down, nuzzling his nose with yours as he spoke, an action that nearly had your heart bursting in your chest. “Then let’s do this. No more hiding, no more running. Just us.”

“Just us,” you echoed, happy.

------

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paigesbasketball · 3 months ago

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A December to Remember

Paige x Reader Warnings: smut, cursing (i think) notes: I saw something similar to this months ago and though i would do a Christmas version.. Inspiration from: iceinmyveins on a03!

The holiday season was always a magical time of year. Snow fell softly, dusting the world in white, and the air was crisp with the chill of winter. But for you, this December felt especially full of surprises—and a little mischievous fun. Your girlfriend, Paige, had been teasing you with a mysterious “secret admirer” gift exchange that started on December 1st, and by now, you were fully caught up in the game.

It all began innocently enough: A small, beautifully wrapped gift appeared on your doorstep. You opened it to reveal a soft red scarf, the perfect shade to brighten up a cold winter day. A note attached simply said, “To make your days warmer.” You smiled, knowing that Paige had a playful side, and it felt just like something she’d do. But as the days went on, the gifts became more personal and more thoughtful. The 3rd brought a cozy blanket. On the 5th, a cute snow globe. On the 7th, a pair of fluffy socks that matched your style. Each one had a little note, each one a flirtatious tease.

By the time you hit December 12th, you were certain that Paige was behind it all. Her playful hints, the way the gifts reflected your tastes—there was no way it wasn’t her. You were thrilled and amused by it all. The mystery was exciting. But when you received another gift on the 14th—this one, a hand-knitted sweater—you knew Paige was stepping up her game.

But December 20th, the day before your team’s away game, brought even more confusion. You were in your hotel room with the rest of the team, preparing for the upcoming game when another gift arrived at your doorstep. You opened it quickly, expecting another thoughtful piece, and this time you found set of lingerie, a soft lavender. It wasn’t from Paige—was it? You still didn’t know, but now you were getting frustrated by the mystery. Had the gifts taken a wrong turn somewhere?

You decided it was time to talk to Paige about it, but there was no opportunity. The team was leaving for a series of games, and you were all holed up in a hotel for a few days. With a little time to kill before the evening’s game, you tried to ignore the strange gifts piling up, but your mind kept drifting back to them, trying to connect the dots.

The day of the game arrived, and the mystery surrounding the lingerie gift only deepened. You could feel your curiosity building. But before you could bring it up, you got another surprise. Paige wasn’t there when you returned to your room after the game, and there, on your bed, was a package. Another beautifully wrapped gift. You opened it to find a another set of lingerie. This one, a deep wine-red, more elaborate than the others, with delicate lace details. Your stomach did a flip.

You froze for a second before reading the attached note: “For when you’re ready. Merry Christmas.” It was signed with a small heart, the handwriting that didnt look fully like Paige’s. Your heart skipped a beat. The note sent a clear message—this was something more intimate, something that meant more than just a playful joke.

As you sat there holding the gift, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, but confusion clouded your mind. Was this part of a larger surprise? Or was it a mistake in the grand plan? You were starting to feel overwhelmed and unsure of how to approach Paige with this gift.

“Hey, I got another gift from my secret admirer,” you said lightly, trying to gauge her reaction. Playing a cat and mouse game with her had to be one of the best aspects of your relationship

Paige's eyes narrowed almost immediately, a slight flicker of confusion crossing her face. She didnt sent you your gift today…atleast not yet…“Another one? What did they send this time?” Her voice was tight, and you could tell she wasn’t as playful as usual.

You hesitated for a moment before showing her the lingerie. “This came today… from my secret admirer.” You grinned, waiting for her reaction. But instead of a teasing smile, Paige’s face turned red with frustration.

“What the hell is this?” she demanded, her voice rising slightly. “I did not send this. Who the fuck sent you this? She paced in frustration, her hand rubbing her temples.

You blinked, a little stunned by her outburst. “Wait, what do you mean? You didn’t send it?”

“No!” she snapped. “I mean, i sent the others and I had a plan, and it wasn’t supposed to go like this. This wasn’t my idea! I don’t even want to know who did this, but clearly, someone is messing with me, and I’m pissed.”

You were taken aback by how upset she was. You had expected teasing and maybe some playful jealousy, but not this level of frustration. “Okay, so you didn’t do it. Who do you think it is?”

Paige took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I don’t know. Maybe the team? They’ve been way too interested in my secret admirer game. I’ll bet they’re behind this.”

You frowned. “So, the lingerie…?”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Paige muttered, her face flushed with both anger and embarrassment. “I had something sweet planned for you, not… this mess.” She glanced over at the lingerie, then back at you. “But now? I’ll make them pay. I’ll find out who did this, and when I do, they’re going to regret it.”

You sat there, still processing the sudden change in tone. “What are you going to do?” you asked, half-amused, half-nervous.

Paige smirked, her anger quickly turning to a devious grin. “Oh, I’m not going to let them off easy. I’ll make them pay for messing with my plans.”

The next day, you were all gathered at the hotel, preparing for the evening game, when Paige finally confronted the team. They were lounging in the lobby, clearly relaxed from their day off, when she stormed up to them, her eyes narrowed with determination.

“Alright, which one of you idiots thought it’d be funny to send my girlfriend lingerie?” Paige demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

The team members exchanged confused glances, trying to figure out if she was joking or genuinely angry. One of them, kk , raised her hand sheepishly. “Yeah, uh, sorry. We thought it would be funny.”

Paige’s eyes darkened. “Oh, it was funny, huh?” She smiled, but it wasn’t a nice smile. “Well, i can do something funny too.”

The team members laughed nervously, clearly unsure of what was coming. “What do you mean?”

Paige’s grin only widened. “You’ll see.”

Later that night, after the game had ended and everyone was winding down, Paige led you into her room. “I got my payback,” she said, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “And you won’t believe how. Let’s just say, they won’t forget this for a while.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “How so?”

Paige walked over to you, her eyes full of affection and something darker—playful and a little wicked. “Let’s just say they’ll be hearing of you tonight,” she whispered, before pulling you close and kissing you deeply.

She moved down to kissing your neck and sheds you of your clothes leaving you bare in front of her.. After she asks you to change into the lingerie that the team has so graciously given you.

Once you emerge from the bathroom she stares at you with a mix of hunger and a wicked as a small smile forms on her mouth. “You’ll help me with my prank won’t you honey” she says forming hickies on your neck, and rubbing the soft flesh of your breasts through the lace making my npples peak. “ I- umm do you think the team-” I was cut off with my own gasp as paige starts to rub the little nub of my clit. Whimpers fill the room as I try to be quiet and considerate to the team members in the hotel room next door. Little did I know thats what paige wanted.

She takes the hand that clamps over my mouth and the one that bunches her shirt and holds them in one hand of her own proving how bigger she is than me. My knees buckle as she shoves two fingers into my heat moving back and forth a couple time before she picks me up by the back of my thighs and throws me on the bed.

The next few hours passed in a blur of lovemaking and teasing moments between you and Paige. It was a Christmas to remember. When the team finally found out what Paige had done to get her revenge, they all knew better than to ever mess with her again. But it was clear: Paige had won this round—and she had made sure to end it with, a playful victory, and a promise that the best gifts were yet to come.

I do not usually write smut so i apologize for this....

-Caty Writes

#paige #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #catytuesdays #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers smut

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cardansriddle · 1 year ago

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Sugar - (tom riddle x fem!muggle!reader)

Summary: Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps the fates were mocking him. He had not meant to venture into the little coffee shop and he had most definitely not meant to return. But he kept coming back and the waitress kept putting sugar packets near his coffee every damn time.

Warnings: Tom gets possessive halfway through so it's pretty tame for him. not proofread. oh also self-indulgent crime & punishment debate (got a lil carried away).

A/N: 5.5k words but it's kinda mehh. to the person who requested this, i hope you enjoy it at least a little <3

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Tom felt as if he was a solitary figure in a world hushed by the winter's harsh embrace. With each step he took away from the desolate building of grey against the pristine canvas of winter, he felt lighter. He did not cast a look back towards the orphanage looming behind him, instead focused on the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet as they led him further into the dark street cloaked in a thick layer of snow.

The wizard knew if he spent another moment in that cursed place he would have lashed out and killed someone, so he had hastily thrown his coat and emerald scarf around himself before slamming the door shut behind him.

Two more years. He thought to himself. Then he would be out and would never be obligated to return again. Perhaps he would even burn the place to the ground if his plans worked out in his favour.

The air was crisp, and his breath materialized in front of him with each exhale. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow empty alley for a suitable quiet place where he could pass his time. There was nothing interesting, except for the tiny bookstore nestled in the corner of the street that emitted a warm, golden light through its window. Tom quickly decided it would do, and he strode towards the place with purpose. A small bell chimed as he entered the place, which he quickly realised was a bookstore with a cosy coffee shop tucked inside.

He inhaled the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the scent of weathered books. Before he could lose himself entirely in the intoxicating symphony of scents, a sudden, loud thud echoed from behind the counter, jolting him from his reverie.

"Blimey!" someone cursed, their voice slicing through the tranquillity. Tom found himself rooted to the spot, curiosity piqued, as a figure suddenly emerged from underneath the counter.

It was a girl. Unabashedly, his eyes traced the lines of her features, noting the delicate curve of her jaw and the cascade of hair that framed her face. He assumed she was around his age if not younger and he stared at the girl as she rubbed her head, wincing when she hit a particularly soft spot before she realised that she was not alone in the shop. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and he watched as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

Tom, still an observer, saw more than just the blush; he discerned the subtleties of her response, the way her eyes momentarily widened before seeking refuge elsewhere, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her knitted cardigan.

She attempted to compose herself and met his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, sir. How may I assist you?" She asked cheerfully, resisting the urge to duck her head down to avoid his intense stare.

He crossed the small distance to the counter. "I'd like a coffee. Black."

"No sugar?" she inquired, to which Tom raised a single brow. Her blush deepened as she quickly averted her eyes from his face.

"Right, of course. You may take a seat while I prepare this for you." With a nod, she hurried to fulfil his request, leaving Tom alone with the lingering scent of coffee and old books that were now intertwined with a pleasant smell of vanilla and sweet—

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

He hastily removed his coat and scarf before plopping down on the nearest armchair. His gaze remained fixed on the girl, absorbed in the rhythm of her practised motions as she prepared his drink, her movements seemingly both effortless and comforting. There was an almost lazy grace to her actions and he continued to watch as she sang under her breath so softly if he had not been staring so intensely, he would not have picked up on it.

He wondered how he had never noticed this place before. He had been passing through this little street for as long as he could remember but for some reason, he had only stumbled upon it today. His sharp eyes darted around, instinctively searching for traces of magic, half-expecting the discovery of a hidden passage to the wizarding world but he quickly realised the place was undeniably, disappointingly muggle.

Muggle.

He tore his gaze away from the girl at the mental reminder of what she was. He fished out a book from his bag and opened it to occupy his mind.

The subtle shuffle of her approaching steps drew his attention back to the present, and he met her gaze as she placed the steaming cup of coffee before him. A sugar packet sat innocently beside it. His eyes lingered on the packet for a moment before lifting coldly to meet hers.

She, however, was undeterred by the intensity of his glare. “In case you change your mind.” She smiled at him softly before turning on her heel and walking back.

His gaze lingered on her retreating figure, and then, almost involuntarily, it dropped to the innocuous sugar packet.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom did not know why he had returned. Truthfully, he had not even noticed his feet had led him here until he was in front of the familiar wooden door that led into the coffee shop. Perhaps he had thought more than he should’ve about the disgustingly soft smile of that girl for the last five months. She was an insolent muggle, yet here he was, walking into the place as if he had never left.

The seasons had blurred since he had last been here. Winter had long surrendered to the warmth of summer. He had to spend at least a month in the orphanage, and he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over for the rest of the summer.

The place was just as he remembered it. The only difference was the lack of Christmas decorations. He faltered only slightly when he took notice of the girl behind the counter, already staring at him. She had not changed much. Her face was the same, less pale perhaps, but the same, nonetheless. The oversized knitted sweater that once enveloped her had been replaced by a little white sundress, and his gaze involuntarily lingered on the exposed smooth skin.

“Welcome back!” She greeted him cheerfully, and he was not surprised she remembered him. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

She nodded as if she was expecting it. "Coming right up." Gently shutting her book, she gracefully moved towards the coffee machine. Tom's eyes couldn't help but trail to the volume she had been reading, and to his pleasant surprise, it was Dostoyevsky. He had not pegged her as someone who would enjoy Russian literature, with its weighty and morally morbid themes. In his mind, she seemed more likely to be a Jane Austen enthusiast, with her intricately written romances and flowery prose.

“It’s 'Crime and Punishment'." He suddenly heard her soft voice declare, and he looked away from the book to give his attention to the girl. Then feeling as if she had said something silly, she blushed and looked away quickly. "Though I'm sure you figured that. I just wondered why you look so surprised."

He replied before he could tell himself not to. "I did not imagine you as someone who would enjoy this."

Emboldened at his words, she turned to face him, a hand casually resting on her hip as she sported a cheeky smile. "Am I to presume you imagine me often?"

His sharp inhale was audible as he absorbed the unexpected shift in her demeanour. He had not expected this shy, timid girl to tease him so boldly. She was a little vixen.

But he did not give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. A lazy raise of his brow was the extent of his acknowledgement before his gaze wandered towards the rows of bookshelves, feigning indifference. "Do you have another copy? Perhaps I shall like to reread this evening."

She frowned, walking over towards the table he had occupied last time to set his coffee down. He grimly took notice of the sugar packet placed near it. "I'm afraid not. But you can have mine."

"No, that is quite alri—" He began to decline but she had already crossed the small distance between them and was holding out the thick book. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers closed around the object, careful to avoid touching hers.

The girl smiled and walked away before he could even say thanks. Not like he was going to.

Settling back into the soft armchair, he opened the book only to freeze at the sight of a name scribbled on the front page and he knew it belonged to her. The wizard rolled the name around in his mind and determined that it suited her. He stared at her name for a minute longer before turning the page and delving into the content of the book.

He had been so immersed in the story that he had not noticed how the time had passed. The gradual hush of the coffee shop's ambient sounds finally penetrated his concentration, and he distinctly heard the girl approaching him.

"I'm sorry to disturb you but we're closing in five minutes." She looked at the book in his hands. "You may return it once you're done."

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped.

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something.

Tom found himself caught in the silent narrative of this stranger's presence.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day.

She looked up to see him enter, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up.

Tom placed the book on the counter.

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader."

She gave him a small smile, turning to make his black coffee before he could ask for it. "Every time I reread it it takes me a few days." She paused for a moment, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "The usual?"

He nodded. "The usual." He debated whether or not to voice his next question, and decided one conversation with the girl would not hurt.

"Why do you read it so often?"

"Each time I find new details that make Raskolnikov's character more complex. Each time I discover these small little things I missed the last time I read it becomes so much better. Plus I enjoy his moral dilemma."

He hummed, his curiosity piqued. He took his usual seat and watched as she brought his coffee and set it down in front of him. "Enlighten me." He gestured towards the seat in front of him. She hesitated only for a second before taking a seat.

"Raskolnikov is obviously a complex character. His actions are driven by a desire for power and superiority, a belief that he is exempt from conventional morality. However, one could argue that his internal struggles and eventual remorse suggest a more nuanced exploration of morality."

Tom furrowed his brows. "I see him as a product of his environment, a desperate man driven to extremes by the harsh circumstances he faced. His morality shifts to the other side of the spectrum."

She cocked her head to the side, and he could see her getting slightly frustrated. "But morality is not just a spectrum; it's a complex interplay of values, societal norms, and personal convictions. Raskolnikov's guilt stems from the clash between his actions and the intrinsic moral compass within him. It's the consequence of recognizing the weight of one's choices."

He scoffed before he could stop himself. "Morality is subjective. What is right for one may not be right for another. Raskolnikov was weak and he was an idiot. Guilt is a useless emotion and it is for the weak."

Her expression remained unwavering. "But perhaps it's that recognition of guilt that separates the morally discerning from those who lack empathy. The fact that you can't comprehend his guilt doesn't make it foolish. It makes it human."

Tom's eyes narrowed a glint of impatience in his gaze. "Human or not, guilt is a hindrance. It's a sentiment for those too feeble to rise above their actions. If I were to make a difficult choice, I would do it without hesitation, without remorse."

He only realised the slip of his tongue after the words left his mouth. He stilled, gauging her reaction yet her response was measured but firm. "Raskolnikov's guilt is a testament to his humanity, his ability to grapple with the consequences of his choices. It's what sets him apart from those who operate without remorse."

"But—"

"So what you're saying is you would kill and feel no remorse?" She cut him off.

Yes.

"You do not understand." He did not intend his tone to be so harsh, yet the words left his mouth coldly. She visibly withdrew and nodded stiffly. "Right. Enjoy your coffee."

He opened his mouth to say something but realised for the first time in his life he did not know what to say.

He was left staring at the cursed sugar packet she had left near his coffee again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He did not return the next day. Nor the day after. Or after.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

And then she saw him step into the coffee shop. He walked in with determination. He walked up to the counter, meeting her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the unspoken tension between them. "I'd like a black coffee," he said, his tone even, though a hint of something lingered beneath the surface.

She nodded, her expression composed but guarded. As she prepared the coffee, the air seemed charged with unspoken words. Her usual cheerful smile was notably absent. The absence struck him, and he realised he had enjoyed her smiles.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, there was a palpable pause. He glanced at the sugar packet, a subtle acknowledgement of the lingering disagreement. Without a word, he took it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he poured the sugar into his coffee.

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

He returned the next day. And the day after that. And for the rest of summer.

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The next time he stepped into the familiar place, winter had covered the city with a snowy blanket once again. It had been a year since he first discovered this little place. And he had not seen his little waiter since he left for Hogwarts in September.

When he walked in, her eyes lit up visibly. "Hi!" She waved at him with a bright grin.

"Hello." He greeted as he unwrapped his scarf and settled in his usual seat. In a matter of minutes, she was bringing him his usual order. She was back to wearing her warm knitted sweaters. "How did you enjoy the book?"

"Oscar Wilde never disappoints," he said. She hummed in agreement, pleased at his words. He watched as her hands dropped to fidget with the bottom of her sweater. "You wish to ask me something." He stated. "Ask."

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

Tom hesitated only for a moment before replying. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, that explains the months of not showing up."

"Were you expecting me?" He teased her with an amused smirk, taking delight in the way her cheeks reddened.

"I was just wondering that is all," she admitted, a hint of curiosity peeking through. Tom observed her, noting the return of the timid, shy girl from their first encounter. It amused him how a few teasing remarks could momentarily whisk away her fiery boldness. He couldn't help but wonder what it would take to awaken it once again.

"And do you wonder about me often, little vixen?" he added, a playful glint in his eyes.

She blushed harder at the nickname but then as if a thought had struck her, she straightened and Tom watched as she visibly mustered up her courage. "I actually was wondering your name."

He bristled, but she must have not noticed because she continued. "I suppose I have not given you mine either." She mused out loud and announced her name to him. "But I thought it bizarre that considering all the time we've talked we never got around to that. Friends who do not each other's names." The girl laughed at the last notion and only then she realised that Tom had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the exchange. She raised her eyes from the frayed edges of her sweater, and the sight almost made her take a step back. His eyes had darkened, and she could have sworn she saw them flash red. There was no warmth, no familiarity in his gaze.

"Are you alright?"

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, an ominous tension permeating the air as he advanced towards her with every word. "We are not friends. You dare to think I would be friends with the likes of you?" His words were sharper than the keenest of blades, cutting into her with merciless precision. "Foolish, little girl," He spat out before grabbing his things and storming out of the place. As the door closed behind him, the little coffee shop seemed to exhale, the echoes of his harsh words lingering in the hushed aftermath.

She stood frozen in her place, helpless against the storm of emotions and the tears that began to veil her vision.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Tom fumed for months after their last encounter. How dare the ignorant muggle insinuate that they were friends? He scarcely considered his Knights of Walpurgis as his friends, and she thought she would just appoint herself the title? Who did she think she was?

"Mate, you alright? You've been unresponsive for a while." Malfoy nudged him slightly, attempting to draw his attention back to the present.

Tom made a noise of acknowledgement before mentally shaking the image of his little waiter— no, not his, he berated himself— from his mind.

But no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not just banish her from his thoughts. He knew a part of him, a rather embarrassingly large part of him enjoyed her company, her passion, her conversations— just her.

And there, tucked away in the recesses of his trunk, lay her damned book— a taunting reminder of her. The temptation to burn it, to obliterate any remnants of her from his life, danced on the edge of his thoughts. He had shoved away, out of sight if only just to save himself the fury, the anger, (the longing).

He wondered if she was going through the same turmoil as him. He hoped she was. She had no right to make him feel this way and get away with it unscathed.

But she was too enticing to give up. He did not know what it was about her. She was a muggle, an ordinary, plain girl working at a forgotten little cafe. Sure, she liked books, but so did a lot of other people. Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of other girls. But none could even come close to stirring his emotions as she did.

Perhaps it was the ease with which she conversed with him. Or the entirely too cheery smiles. Or her endearing knitted sweaters— though he secretly favoured the sundresses.

He, of course, knew what it was. He had tried to deny the idea to himself, but there was no escaping it. Tom had never been able to be unequivocally authentic with another individual before. From his early childhood, he refused to allow anyone close to him. He never lowered his walls and rejected anything that would yield a genuine connection. It was refreshing with her. He had no cause to uphold a curated facade.

Had she not been a muggle, he would entertain the thought of her bewitching him. He would have been convinced the girl put some spell on him or slipped a potion into his drink.

It was maddening.

She was maddening.

He sighed upon realising that he had spiralled again thinking of her. He needed to return the book, and maybe that would ease his mind. Perhaps once he was rid of her possession, she would not haunt him anymore. (Though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself with the last thought.)

As summer loomed around the corner, it felt both too distant and too imminent, mirroring the paradox of his tangled emotions.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

The sound of her laugh rang out before he could even close the door behind him. His head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. But there she was, his little waiter, chuckling delightfully as some boy spoke lowly from behind the counter. Chuckles escaped her lips, and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to stifle the laughter, her hands deftly at work preparing a drink. Despite her efforts, laughter bubbled forth once more, forcing her to set the cup down to avoid any potential spills.

An immediate surge of anger coursed through him. Who was this boy? What business did have with her? What right did he have to elicit such genuine laughter from her? (Most importantly, how dare she replace him?)

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gather himself into some semblance of a composed, unaffected man that he most definitely was not at that moment. With a loud, purposeful cough, he sought to catch her attention.

She spun around, the practised smile reserved for customers settling onto her face as she readied herself to serve him. However, the smile swiftly vanished the moment her doe-like eyes locked onto him. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at him, wide eyes roving over his face as if to confirm that he was really standing there, in front of her, and was not a figment of her imagination.

Because despite their last encounter, despite the anger, and the hurt she had felt, she kept hoping he would return. She kept imagining him standing there, with his ridiculously fancy scarf as he spewed out an apology. She had delved so deep into her fantasies involving him that now that he was actually there, she did not what to do or to say. Her tongue was tied, and her brain was fogged. What was she supposed to say?

It seemed he decided to grant her mercy and be the first to break the tense silence.

“Hello.”

“Hi.”

He shuffled closer, though his steps were unsure, unlike his usual confident strides that she was used to seeing. “I wished to return your book.” He declared yet made no move to reach into his bag for the said book. He allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of her, her eyes that always seemed to glisten, her hands that were always fidgeting, her little sundress that he was afraid would drive him to insanity, (and her lips that he wished he could press against his own just so he could find out what they felt like, tasted like.) He shoved the last one into a drawer in his mind and locked it away. He could not fantasise about her. She was a muggle. He could not stoop so low as to hold affections for a muggle girl.

“Did you enjoy it?” The girl asked tentatively as if afraid one wrong word would set him off, have him spitting more harsh words that would dig deep into her skin and remain there.

“As always.” He replied. Because every book she gave him held another meaning. She was a clever girl, choosing the ones that she knew would have him coming back with a strong debate prepared in his mind. They always seemed to stand on opposite sides of every argument that the books posed, ensuring that their discussion would get heated, exciting, and thrilling.

While Tom vehemently disagreed with her views, he found pleasure in the way her mind worked. He admired her quick-wittedness, her ability to counter every argument he posed. No one else had engaged him in such stimulating conversations. She was a breath of fresh air, a captivating force he wanted to inhale and never release. He yearned to suffocate in the essence of her being, to be consumed and to consume in return. He wanted to own her— that irrational desire to keep her for himself was always there in the deeper parts of his mind that he was scared to venture into.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She responded but he could detect the subtle undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

He hesitated. “May I have one black coffee?” He was extending an olive branch, and while it was not an outright apology, coming from Tom, it was a whole declaration.

“It’s five minutes until closing time.”

She would not be swayed so easily then.

Fine. Tom thought. He would make her come to her senses.

The boy who he had forgotten was still there suddenly came to stand next to him. Tom eyed him with disdain, his features curling into an unimpressed sneer, raising a lazy brow.

“I’ll help her close up, mate. You can leave now.”

“Daniel, that is not necessary.” She muttered, glancing between the two men nervously. Daniel? Tom clenched his jaw, enraged. In his absence, it seemed she had gotten on first-name basis with a boy. His mouth soured with the taste of betrayal at her blatant ignorance. How could she discard him so easily? Had she not suffered all these months at the mere thought of him? Had he been alone in his suffering?

“No,” Tom stated flatly. “You will leave.” He told the boy then turned to face his waiter. “We will talk.”

“Tom, I do not think—”

He cut her off with a hiss. “It was not a request.”

Daniel seemed wholly displeased. He opened his mouth to argue, but his girl beat him to it. “It’s okay, Daniel. I will see you some other time.”

“Whatever he has to tell you, surely he can say in front of me.”

She shook her head gently, trying to dissuade him. “It’s a matter between him and I. I would rather talk privately.”

Tom looked smug as he faced Daniel again, struggling to contain his smirk. He could see the indignation clear on the boy’s face as his eyes flickered dubiously between her and Tom. He knew the wizard was no ordinary acquaintance of her, he could feel the palpable tension in the air like a wolf.

Tom, of course, wished to push his buttons further, just to have the last word. “You heard her. Leave.”

Daniel scoffed. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He muttered and with one last long look, he squared his shoulders and left the café with as much dignity as his wounded pride could muster.

As the door shut with a final thud, they were left in pregnant silence, both unsure of the dynamics at play between them. The air in the café hung heavy with unspoken tension as if the silence itself had taken on a weight, pressing down on them both. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second echoing in the quiet space.

She was the first to cave. "Well? You wished to talk." Gesturing towards him with a hand expectantly. "Talk."

Tom inhaled sharply, and for the first time in his life, he did not quite know what to say. How to proceed.

"Who is he?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.

She raised a brow. "Seriously? After how you walked out of here last time I would think your choice of words would be different."

"Different? I hardly think the question was unfair."

She huffed impatiently, discarding her apron as she turned from him to put everything away for the night. "Of course. How foolish of me to assume that you have no business inquiring about my life when we are not even friends." She chuckled bitterly. "You made the notion quite appalling if memory serves me right. You wish to know who is Daniel? For all you know, he could be my fiancee. Would it matter? No. Because you and I are hardly acquaintances."

An unfamiliar feeling began coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. She briefly turned to fix him with a pointed glare and froze at the look on his face. The dancing flames of the candles seemed to mirror the flickering emotions in Tom's eyes—flames of irritation, discontent, and an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Tom could scarcely believe his fate. How was it that he— the most powerful wizard of his generation— had succumbed to the pathetic disease of— what was it? Desire? Lust? Infatuation? Such mundane urges were beneath him, he had no wish to pursue anyone or anything that was not remotely related to his quest for power. Yet there she was. In her infuriating fucking dress and those innocent eyes. Did she even know what sort of turmoil she had caused him?

All of a sudden he felt exhausted, defeated. His shoulders sunk visibly as he ran a hand through his hair. He would use a hundred of her sugar packets in his coffee if it meant she would just grace him with her bubbly smile again and just— just what? Leave him be? He did not want that. Treat him as if nothing had happened? Maybe. Release him from whatever enchantment she put him under? Yes.

"What do you want from me?" He asked at last, frustration clear in his voice.

She regarded him with disbelief as she rounded the counter to stand directly in front of him. "What do I want from you?" She repeated incredulously. "I want an apology! I want an explanation! I want—" she sighed, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. "You cannot just show up here demanding things and ordering people around after how you treated me last time. If you wish to continue this conversation, you will apologise to me."

"You want me to say sorry?" He took a step towards her.

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology."

Before she could register what was happening, Tom closed the minute distance between them and caved into his desire. He grabbed her face, fingers threading through her hair, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was not gentle; it was a collision of pent-up tension and bottled-up desires.

Tom's lips moved fervently against hers, pouring his frustration into the act. It was a silent declaration that transcended the boundaries of his complicated inner turmoil. Tom knew that. But he could not pull away from her— not after having tasted how her lips feel like.

Her hands, which had hovered hesitantly in the space between them, found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer.

She felt—tasted like God's favourite nectar, sweet and addictive and he knew he would never get enough of it. She might not have been a witch, but he was bewitched by her.

As they broke apart, breathless, the air between them hung heavy with the residue of their shared kiss. He dared not to ease his hold on her, only stared at her with darkened eyes, taking delight in the way her lips were bruised, and puffy, all because of him. But it was not enough. He needed to mark her for all to see.

He dove into the tender skin of her throat like a man starved, teeth sinking into her flesh with no warning, and a sick sort of satisfaction washed over him at the muffled moan that escaped her mouth. He sucked on the skin until he was sure there would be a purple mark blooming on the spot before running his tongue over the flesh to soothe the sting. He did not waste any second before moving to mark another spot.

"I do not even know your name." She managed to choke out in between her whimpers, hands moving of their own accord to tangle in his hair, and a particular tug had him growling deep in his throat.

"Tom." He whispered, pulling away from her neck only to return his lips to hers. "Say it. Say my name." He murmured in between the kisses, pushing her back until her back was pressed against the counter. He easily picked her up to place her on the surface, his fingers trailing along her thighs to her knees to nudge them apart so he could stand in between them.

"Tom." She breathed out in a daze, and he smirked in delight.

She was his. He had already branded her, and he would do much more to ensure she knew it was him she belonged to.

He leaned to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I hope you know there is no going back from this. From me." He whispered, fingers slipping under the strap of her dress and dragging it down her shoulder slowly. "You are my dirty little secret now. Mine."

She shuddered under the weight of his words but he was already snaking his hand around her throat as his lips found home on her own once again.

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

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riddleswhcre · 2 months ago

Text

────۶ৎ he doesn’t make me cry

he says he’s sorry. he says he still thinks about you. and maybe, just maybe, that’s the worst part—because you think about him too.

part 2 more

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

“…and then, of course, jenkins managed to hit himself in the face with the bat. i mean, who even does that?” elliot said, chuckling. you were tucked away in a corner of the three broomsticks with elliot greenwood, your boyfriend, who was in the middle of telling you about a particularly dramatic quidditch practice.

you forced a smile, nodding along, but your eyes kept drifting. just a few tables away sat fred weasley, legs stretched out under the table, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. he was laughing at something george had said, but every now and then, you caught him glancing over—quick, fleeting looks that made your stomach tighten.

fred and you had history. the kind you thought would last forever when you were young and daft enough to believe in happily-ever-afters. you’d been together from fifth year through to seventh, but it all unravelled halfway through that final year. too much pressure, too many fights, and then it was over.

now, months later, you were with elliot. he was kind and steady, the sort of boyfriend everyone said you should want. the kind who never forgot your birthday or made you cry in the middle of the common room.

but then there was fred, all reckless charm and infuriating smirks, still haunting the corners of your mind when you least expected it.

fred stood suddenly, scraping his chair back. you turned your attention back to elliot, who was saying something about broom maintenance, but fred was already heading your way.

you felt your heart drop. “oh, for merlin’s sake,” you muttered under your breath.

fred stopped at your table, hands shoved in his pockets. “alright, greenwood?” he said casually, though his eyes barely flicked to elliot.

“fred,” elliot replied coolly, his grip tightening on your hand.

fred’s gaze settled on you, and he tilted his head towards the door. “fancy a chat?”

your stomach churned. “now?”

“yeah. won’t take long.”

elliot frowned. “we’re in the middle of something, mate.”

fred ignored him, his attention fixed on you. “please.”

you sighed, feeling elliot bristle beside you. “i’ll be quick,” you murmured to him, standing before this turned into more of a scene. “promise.”

fred led you out into the street, the cold air biting against your cheeks. the snow underfoot was turning to slush, and the faint hum of chatter from inside the pub faded as the door swung shut.

“what do you want, fred?” you asked, folding your arms.

he turned to face you, his expression serious now. “i want to talk.”

“about what?” you raised an eyebrow. “we’ve got nothing to say to each other.”

he let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “you don’t think we do?”

“no, i don’t.”

“right,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “alright then. let’s make it simple—i’ve got one problem. you’re not mine anymore.”

the words hit you like a bludger to the chest. for a moment, you didn’t know what to say, the world narrowing to just fred and that stupid, broken look on his face.

“i’m with elliot,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt.

“yeah, i know,” fred said, his tone turning bitter. “lucky bloke, isn’t he?”

you swallowed hard, refusing to let him get under your skin. “he is.”

fred’s eyes softened slightly, and he took a step closer. “does he make you laugh?”

the question caught you off guard. “what?”

“does he make you laugh?” fred repeated, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

you stared at him, the memories rushing back—laughing until your sides hurt in the common room, him sneaking you chocolate frogs during exams, his arm around your shoulders as he teased you about your terrible potions skills.

but then there were the fights. the tears. the hollow ache of being let down over and over.

“no,” you said finally. “but he doesn’t make me cry, either.”

fred froze, the weight of your words settling between you like a thick fog. for a moment, he didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“that’s fair,” he said quietly. “i suppose that’s fair.”

you crossed your arms tighter, trying to ignore the way your chest ached. “you don’t get to do this, fred. you don’t get to say all this now, when it’s too late.”

“i know i messed up,” he said quickly, his voice rough. “but i thought i was giving you what you wanted, you know? space, time to breathe. i didn’t think—”

“you didn’t think,” you interrupted sharply. “that’s the problem, fred. you never think about anyone but yourself.”

“that’s not true,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “i thought about you. i still think about you—every bloody day.”

the anger drained out of you, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “well, maybe you should stop.”

fred stared at you, his jaw tightening. “is that what you want?”

you hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. finally, you shook your head. “it doesn’t matter what i want. i’m happy now, fred.”

he nodded slowly, stepping back. “right. if that’s how it is, then... alright.”

you didn’t stop him as he turned and walked away, his shoulders hunched against the cold. you stayed there for a moment, your breath fogging in the air, before finally heading back inside.

elliot smiled when you slid back into the booth, his warm hand finding yours again. but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the image of fred walking away, leaving footprints in the snow.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

thank you for reading. reblogs & feedback appreciated.

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, this is my first time asking here I really love your work and also the whole reason me going into the DC fandom really... Anyway, back to my request can you do like a fluffy interaction with the batfamily when child (male or gn) reader told them that they had a "boyfriend" at school.

Not entirely sure if this is really you're cup of tea and if not you can ignore it.

Oh this is my cup of tea, don't worry. And I got you into DC fandom? I hope you like the fandom so far.

Summary: (Y/N) is slowly growing up. Bruce and the others can't handle it.

Warnings: fluff, Bruce and everyone is emotional, just pure fluff everyone, Titus makes an appearance

The family has been going through a rather tough time recently. (Y/N) has started going to kindergarten and they couldn't see him for almost the entire day. Bruce knew it was important that (Y/N) starts socializing with children his age.

Bruce knew that is was important for (Y/N) to do it and he needs to get over all the child sicknesses. Such as chicken pox and some others. It would build his immunity system and make him stronger. And it was difficult the first day.

Everyone was emotional that first day. All of them barley kept it together as they walked (Y/N) to the kindergarten, more so to the place where he would be spending time until he needs to go to elementary school.

(Y/N) was nervous at first, but Bruce assured him how they would be back to get him back. The brothers all said goodbye and nearly broke down when (Y/N) left and everyone, including Alfred broke down in the car.

" He is growing up so quickly. " Jason said as he was wiping his eyes, trying not to cry fully.

" I know. " Dick said, not even keeping his cool anymore. Bruce and Damian didn't cry, but they were definitely sad about the fact that they couldn't see their brother anyone. Tim was just quiet as he sniffed quietly and Alfred simply looked ahead, outright refusing to cry.

Everyone went on with their days and once they were done with work or school, they would pick up (Y/N). (Y/N) was happy to his family once more and he just wanted a hug from his dad.

And he wanted to be carried by his dad. It was their tradition after all. Soon, Bruce had to update the list of people who could pick him up and included everyone in the family, besides Damian. The kindergarten policy made it clear that you needed to present ID every time you want to pick him up.

Bruce had to admit, he was impressed with the sheer security of the kindergarten and the way that they made sure that nobody unauthorized or somebody who had more sinister motives could get in. Thankfully.

(Y/N) has been going for a few months and he liked it very much. He has made a few friends and Bruce couldn't be happier. (Y/N)'s brother's were happy too. (Y/N) was happy, liked going there and had fun.

What more could they ask for? Nothing more.

As long as their brother is happy, so are they.

It was all going to be fine.

Well, that fine turned into pure confusion when (Y/N) was home. It was a Saturday. (Y/N) and the family was having a family night and (Y/N) was watching a movie in his father's lap, enjoying the contact from his father. Bruce covered his son in a blanket, making sure it was warm. It has started snowing a few hours ago and it was perfect.

More importantly, it was peaceful.

Until (Y/N) started to speak.

It was all fine.

" I forgot to tell you something! " (Y/N) declared as he sat up upright. Bruce glanced at (Y/N) and hummed at him, showing him that he had his attention.

" I have a boyfriend! "

Those four words made Bruce's head spin and he swears he hears that he has heard something crash in the kitchen. Jason spat out his water, coughing the rest of it out. Dick wept and Damian froze. Tim blinked a few times.

What the hell?!

" I'm sorry, what do you mean by that? " Bruce asked as he got some of his composure back. (Y/N) smiled widely and Bruce had to make sure he didn't fall down.

" I have a boyfriend! We hold hands and do everything together! " (Y/N) said loudly and Dick wept louder. Jason took a deep breath and Damian blinked a few times. Tim just drank his coffee. Nope. He is too pumped with caffeine to even think about it.

" What's wrong with Dick? " (Y/N) asked, looking at his brother who was weeping. Jason gave Dick a hug and Dick was mumbling the words so quickly and grow up. In not really particular order actually.

" Nothing (Y/N), you know how he gets emotional. " Bruce explained and (Y/N) let out a little huh. Bruce wanted to cry really, but he couldn't. His son was growing up too soon, but growing up is normal.

It's going to happen eventually.

Sooner rather than later.

" Come here. " Dick said as he wiped his eyes. He stood up and took (Y/N) into his arms, hugging him. His brother can't grow up. No. It's completely wrong and not- No.

(Y/N) can't grow up. No.

(Y/N) was confused as to why Dick would cry. Why? Is he sad? Why would be sad?

" Why are you said Dick? " (Y/N) asked and Dick finally found it in himself to chuckle. He gave (Y/N) a kiss on the cheek.

" I'm not sad baby bird. "

" Then why are you crying? When you are sad, you cry. " (Y/N) stated and Dick shook his head fondly.

" Sometimes, when you are so happy, you are so overwhelmed with happiness that you just start crying. " Dick explained and (Y/N) let out a little oh, leaning his head on Dick's shoulder.

Dick sighed as he sat down on the couch and Alfred finally made his way into the the living room.

" Master Bruce, did I hear correctly? Master (Y/N) has a boyfriend? " Alfred asked, clearly not wanting to believe it. His youngest grandson has a boyfriend?

" Yes, (Y/N) has a boyfriend. " Bruce confirmed and Alfred sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. His grandson will send him to his grave. Early grave, mind you.

Jason sighed as he wanted Dick to hand (Y/N) over to him. His brother can't have a boyfriend now. He is a baby in his eyes and he can't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend for that matter until he is about 30.

That is a reasonable age to have a boyfriend. Right?

" Should I open up the scotch? " Alfred asked and Bruce smiled at the suggestion.

" Later Alfred. "

" As you wish master Bruce. "

" Dad? " (Y/N) asked from Jason's arms and Bruce felt something warm in his heart.

" Yes? "

" Can we go out to play in the snow? Pretty please. " (Y/N) asked and Bruce nodded in agreement.

" Of course we can. But you need to make sure that you are warm. You can't get a cold can you? " Bruce said as he picked (Y/N) up from Jason and (Y/N) let out a little hurray.

" He is too pure for this world. " Damian said once (Y/N) and Bruce left the room to bundle up. and there was something that everyone could agree on. Even Jason and Damian could agree on that phrase.

Titus wagged his tail as he whined for Damian to open the door to the garden. Damian did so and Titus started playing in the snow. It was weird to see such a black mass in the white snow.

Titus almost looked like a demon and then that image was gone when (Y/N) ran over to Titus. Titus was very happy, tail wagging like mad, but still remained calm and gentle with his little brother. Bruce watched as (Y/N) ran around, making angels and throwing snowballs at Bruce.

Titus would also run for snowballs that the two would make, considering that they couldn't find his tennis balls to throw. He was confused at the way the would disappear, but still came back for more.

" Maybe we have overreacted. " Dick said and everyone agreed in a certain way. (Y/N) is a child and he probably doesn't know the meaning of the word. But they know that sooner or later they will have an actual boyfriend on their hands.

Hopefully that will never happen. Hopefully.

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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likesomeoneinlovee · 5 months ago

Text

𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐓𝐇

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader.

Edit: Holy hell first fic I ever wrote 😅, (very tempted to delete this.)

Summary: You and Arthur had just got back from a hunting trip in the harsh weather and decided there might just be a better way to warm up than a fire. Warnings: WC: 1k-ish. NSFW, Quickie, PIV sex, pull out, no proof read, rushed lowkey (yea, we can tell) female reader.

Colter felt like hell on earth if hell had froze over.

Even in the run-down houses still left in the old mining camp the cold air was blistering. You and Arthur stood just outside one of the house’s log frame with your backs against it. The two of you kept your cigarettes between your lips, puffing on them as you smoked together. You and Arthur had been hunting for some deer for Pearson so no one would be left hungry as well as cold, those two didn’t mix well.

Your foot tapped against the snow as you took the cigarette between your fingers. “You’d think it’s the dead of winter when it’s meant to be spring.” You spoke so the gusts of wind drove by the blizzard wouldn’t be the only sound against the silence.

“That’s what we get for goin’ up the mountains. Damnit.” He complained, rightfully so. After Blackwater it was the gang’s only choice I suppose, and finding a place not already swarming with people who we’d have to kill just for a place to live, now that was a damn near blessing. If you could even believe in those anymore. Your thoughts were quickly cut off by his words.

“I’d do anything for some goddamn warmth.”

Oh, now he’d do anything. You’d quickly push the idea out of your head before it could fully form, he was your friend anyway, definitely not your lover.

But then again what’s so wrong with a quick fuck to get warmed up?

Dutch and Hosea were currently inside the cabin you two were leaned against starting a fire. Though it seemed like a simple quick task that could be done quickly by them, your body ached for warmth, you wouldn’t dare to wait that long. Waiting felt like an absurdity to you and you were beginning to realize why, maybe your body didn’t ache for the comfortable warmth of a fire, maybe it was just dying to get it’s hands on Arthur—

He inhaled his cigarette one last time, savoring the tase of burning tobacco before flicking it into the snow onto the ground. His muscles tense from the cold. He could see your eyes burning into the side of his head, tracing his jawline, he huffed before turning to face you. “You ain’t waitin’ for that fire either, are ya?”

He read you like an open book, or maybe that wasn’t it. He could’ve been thinking the same as you this entire time.

That was the truth of it.

“No, I ain’t, Morgan.” You let the words slip out, of course just thinking about the bulk of his muscles against you could warm you up all in itself. The heavy breaths coming from his parted lips told you enough. He pushed himself from the wall to stand in-front of you, his large hands now on your shoulders, guiding you so your back could press tighter against the cabin, leaving no room between. It was too easy to go so unspoken, as if you two had been waiting for any excuse to do this that it only took few words to convince each other. Guess now that turned into a fact. “You’re gonna let me touch you?”

“Am I-“ Your words caught your throat before you could repeat his sentence, you couldn’t act like how you felt before you yelp a quick and excited ‘Yes!’ at his whisper. “For a minute.” Your voice a tad muffled by the cigarette hanging from your plump lips, tinted red from the cold, along with your cheeks. His hands slipped to your forearms, pressing himself against you. He threw his hat off into the snow, frustrated it was getting in the way as he tried to press your foreheads together, discarding just like his cigarette. The tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Christ you’re warm.”

He’d move one of his hands to take the cigarette from your lips before it could burn his chin, he already had enough scars there. Your eyes completely fixed on his lips with no excuse, feeling his breath fan your face, silently praying that no one would come around the corner.

“Shit, y’know I just lit that? You said regarding your cigarette, this was hit with a quick, nearly harsh “I don’t care.” from him. He couldn’t stand the cold anymore. Taking you into a deep, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue quickly pushing into your mouth. It was like a war on your body had now begun; his hips snapped against yours once before ripping his lips from yours with a deep growl ripping from his throat, he quickly grew needy, bunching up your layers of skirt before his hands quickly moved to pick you up. Your thighs instinctively wrapped tight around his waist as he pressed you against that same wall. He moved one of his hands down where his belt would be if his goddamn coat weren’t so long, his face pressed against your shoulder as he tried to work around it.

“Fuck.” He’d grunt, his fingers working at the belt once found, with gloved hands this was even more frustratingly difficult on his part, but as he did always, he managed to undo it, tugging his pants down to his thighs. You on the other hand were less patient, your hand has been under your skirt, and instead of taking off your panties you had ripped them completely, Arthur noticed when you threw the torn piece of lace onto the matching white snow.

He’d guide himself under your skirt, his hand wrapped around his cock as he circled your sopping cunt with his head, surprised to say the least when he felt how soaked you were in such a short amount of time, now he’d wonder what you were thinking about to get you like this. He wouldn’t vocalize what he was thinking, instead focusing on doing this quick and fast. In and out.

He took his first thrust into you, stretching you to fit around his thick shaft. Though it put you into pure ecstasy. You knew better not to be loud, the thudding of your back hitting the log wall with every pound into your pussy was enough to peak someone’s curiosity. Your hand was tight over your mouth to suppress your moans. Arthur not wearing his hat gave you a perfect excuse to tangle your fingers in his sandy locks, tugging at them almost to silently say ‘Hurry up.’

Though you’d prefer this to last, you’d know every single one of his delicious, deep thrusts will only live on in your head for the next century. His pace got even rougher, more sloppy than before as he pumped himself faster. Pulling all the way out just to slam his cock back in.

“Goddamn you’re tight, princess- fuckin’ makin’ me lose control.” He’d rasp right into your ear. His words broke you down into even more of a shaking mess than you were. The combination of his words and his tip hitting your g-spot over, and over, and over again sent you over the edge, your cunt clenched around him, now he didn’t want you to alert nobody, of course. His mouth took yours into — once again — a deep, messy kiss, feeling your moan vibrate down his throat. He’d grip your thigh with one hand, keeping you against the wall as he used his other to help himself out of you, spitting into his palm to add extra slickness to his already cum-covered cock, tightening his grip around it to mimic your pussy, though he couldn’t get it that right. With a few more pumps from his hand he’d cum over his fist, with a low drawn out “Fuccccckkkkk…”

You marveled at the sight, seeing Morgan’s O-face wasn’t something you could ever imagine not even in your sick mind, seeing his eyebrows furrowed together as his jaw slacked, it was something else to say the least. Your words were stolen from you after everything that had happen, somehow now hot even standing in the cold snow with your skirt hitched around your hips.

When you heard the door creek open in the distance you two hastily got yourself out of that position, adjusting your coats as you quickly tugged your layered skirt down to your boots once again. A small pant almost of relief came from you as you saw it was Dutch leaving the cabin, of course he walked straight, if he’d only have turned a bit he could’ve saw the sight of you and Arthur standing there with flushed faces, various things scattered the snow around you — including your panties.

You picked the ripped fabric off of the ground, still a bit shocked it had even come to this. “This might’ve been my only pair.” The silence was broken by your words, at the least you got a weak chuckle from Arthur, your cheeks flushing at the sound. You two were completely spent.

Later into the night you two were actually in the cabin this time; sitting in two separate chairs by the now lit fireplace, Arthur smoked as your hands reached in front of you to feel the warmth. The fire casting a warm light over the both of you in the otherwise dark cabin.

“You know, that was nice.” That may have been the first you had mentioned the events from hours ago since. His eyes flicked towards you, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“You’re a beautiful girl.” He’d reply, flattering, very much. “It’s gettin’ late. ‘Stead of walkin’ to the girl’s cabin why don’t you just stay in my bed.” He offered, and that offer you couldn’t refuse.

“I’d like that.” You’d smile at him, the both of you getting up as his took your hand into his leading you to his small bedroom.

And as you could — probably — imagine, you two didn’t exactly sleep that night. The creeks and whines of Arthur’s cot that could be heard from the other rooms told anyone with ears that.

#Arthur Morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #red dead fandom #john marston #javier escuella #dutch van der linde #short reads #fanfic #ao3 #x reader #one shot

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spooky-bunnys · 2 months ago

Text

Title: That's your Future

Fandom: Twilight

Pairing: Alice x Jasper x M!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Alice and Jasper have adopted (Name) as their own, violence, death, heavy ANGST, good ending.

Everywhere (Name) looked all he saw was dead bodies and fights. (Name) never really liked violence. Especially with how his "Creator" was when he was only a Newborn. Much like his father figure. (Name) was created for war. So he always hated fighting.

(Name) grunts as a guard grabs him from behind. (Name) quickly wrapped his left leg around his captures and easily broke it off. Easily maneuvering the Volturi guard over him and quickly breaking the Vampires neck. (Name) winced at the breaking sound before shaking his head. He needed to stop being so distracted.

(Name) looked around. Trying to find his parental figures. When he was unable to see either pixie or cowboy he grimaced and ducked under another guard. Quickly ending the fight and wincing once more at the breaking sound. He'll always hate the sound they make when their killed.

Being a Vampire definitely wasn't what it's made out to be. He finally caught site of his mother figure and breathed a sigh of relief seeing her alive. He frowned when he noticed she was in two Volturi guard arms and immediately started racing forward. Until he heard his father's pained gasp.

(Name) froze and snapped his head to where the sound radiated. His undead heart broke seeing how the guards were holding Jasper. It was like time slowed when Demetri cut his hand down. (Name) could slowly hear the scream of his mother and knew what he had to do.

He never really understood why his gift was what it was. Being able to swap places with others was never a very powerful gift to have. Although considering how much trouble his newest Auntie and Cousin has caused the last few years. It's come in handy multiple times.

Edward snapped his head behind him. He quickly reached out for his nephew. Only to grab the shoulder of his brother as (Name) had swapped his and Jasper's places. Upon seeing (Name)'s head hit the snow and both Alice and Jasper's pain filled screams both sides froze momentarily.

Alice quickly broke the hold from the guards and sunk to her knees. Reaching out for (Name)'s head. The sad smile broke Edward's heart. Edward's hand tightened on Jasper's shoulder. Both brothers raced forward. Tackling the stunned Demetri and Felix to the ground.

Jane upun seeing her guards taken down tried using her gift. But when it didn't work she looked to the side. Bella Swan with a rage and grief filled face was using her gift. Protecting her husband, brother in law, and her sister in law. Jane stumbled back hoping. Both male's would be busy with her guard. Letting her escape.

Until she heard the sound of snow crunching behind her. She briefly looked back. Until to see a emotionless Alice Cullen chasing after her. Jane's eyes widened and she turned back forward. Trying to run faster. She was the slowest of the guards, but her gift made up for her weaked speed.

Jane looked back only to not see the racing Cullen. Until she turned back around. Running straight into her. Alice snarled as she gripped Jane's throat. The imagine of her sweet son's head rolling to her feet kept playing through her mind. So instead of just ripping her head off and giving her an easy but quick death.

Alice Cullen walked forward. Multiple fights stopping to see what would happen next. Until a large black wolf stalked forward. The hand of Jane's twin Alex hanging from his mouth. Jane's eyes watered as she tried breaking from Alice's hold. Only to fail. Alice stopped a few feet from the wolf. With a icey tone Alice threw Jane forward.

"Here. A new toy Sam. (Name) would be glad to know you broke it."

The large black wolf didn't hesitate before jumping onto the screaming Jane. Quickly snapping his jaw around her head. He ignore her tearing at his snout. The picture of a happily laughing (Name) flashed before Sam's eyes. Before his jaw snapped tighter and he ripped his head to the side. Completely breaking shattering her head.

Upon seeing his best guards taken down. Aro frowned and looked around for his targets. His eyes caught Edward first. The Cullen's eyes were filled with grief and rage. Aro smirked before racing towards the telepathic male. Bella seeing the scene raced forward. Using her anger to her advantage.

Aro slammed Bella back towards her husband. Sending them both down. He tried using that to his advantage. Only to fail as Edward quickly turned. Using the momentum Bella kicked Aro's face. Stunning the Volturi King. Edward threw his wife towards the King. Bella kicked Aro in the chest multiple times before being thrown away.

Edward ran forward. Trying to remove the King's head before Aro quickly turned the tables. While he was distracted Bella jumped onto the King's shoulders and pulled upwards. Frightening the King momentarily. Edward using the distraction kicked the King's legs out from under him.

As his head flew forward all Aro could see was Bella thrusting the fire into his face. Mouthing out, "For my family." The guards trying to intervene were quickly handled by the other Cullen's and friends.

Aro stunned blinked multiple times. Seeing the absolute fury upon Alice Cullen's face. He looked around. Meeting the eyes of the other Cullen members. He stared at the tensed Edward Cullen. Who had an arm wrapped around his wife and his other arm on the shoulders of his nephew.

(Name) flinched when his eyes met Aro's. Making Emmett step in front of the male. Multiple heated glares and growls sent his way. Upon seeing the King staring at her son Alice snarled quietly. Her tone filled with anger, ice, and a warning.

"That's your future."

Jasper glared at the staring King. Ignoring the tightened hold from the guards. His own deep and threatening growl leaving his chest. Making multiple Volturi guard flinch and step away. The guards holding him winced feeling the power of the growl. Aro's eyes snapped to Jasper before meeting Alice's eyes.

"That's your future unless you change your mind."

(Name) held his unneeded breath. He had no idea what vision was shown. But upon feeling his Uncle Edward literally yank him towards the end. He could guess a few factors of what happened. But the feeling of one of the Vampire King's was very unwelcomed. Especially since both his Uncles tensed.

He relaxed when his Uncle Emmett stepped in front of him. (Name) seriously hated this. He wanted to get his family and go back to the Cullen house. Away from their so called "Royalty". Everything else happened so fast. Aro made some kind of speech (Name) honestly didn't pay attention to.

His attention was towards the wolves. (Name) happily waved towards the wolves. Not noticing the chuckling surrounding him or the retreating Volturi. Only when his mother almost tackled him into the snow did (Name) realize what was happening. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her. So thankful that they were both okay.

Jasper crashing into the hug did send them into the snow though. Which made almost everyone laugh. (Name) was very confused on why his parents were so clingy at the moment but (Name) couldn't really see his mother's visions. So he shrugged off the confusion and instantly relaxed in the arms of his parents. Glad that everything was over and their family safe.

#male reader #x male reader #twilight x male reader #twilight #twilight x reader #alice x jasper #jasper x alice #protective cullen family #x male child reader #breaking dawn #breaking dawn part 2 #volturi #twilight volturi

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whitecompri · 20 days ago

Note

Can you create a part 2 to controlled chaos where reader realized that she has feelings for shadow but think shadow wouldn't like her in that way and keep her feelings hidden until some chaotic shenanigans causes her accidently confess her feelings to shadow

(I really love the fic by way)

Controlled Chaos Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Shadow x Chaotic!Reader

Genre: Comedy, fluff

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Mild Violence

A/N: Thank you for this request, it was quite fun to think about the sequel to Controlled Chaos, and I must say I enjoyed it and had a good laugh myself with the result, I hope you enjoy it!

--*--

Your days living with the black hedgehog passed quickly. However, over time, strange things—stranger than usual—started happening to you.

You didn’t know exactly when it had started, nor the reason or when you first noticed it. But things began to derail all at once, even though you did your best to keep everything as it always was.

One morning, you were in the kitchen, a few bowls in front of you as you prepared cake batter, following a recipe you had found online. At that moment, you felt more at ease, mainly due to Shadow’s absence. After all, in the past few days, his presence had only made you nervous and act strangely.

Letting out a sigh, you refocused on the recipe, setting aside the bowl with eggs, butter, and milk, and reaching for the most essential ingredient at the moment—flour—to finish your batter.

Raising your hands, you reached up to the cabinet above you, opening it and grabbing the bag of flour. However, at that very moment, you froze upon hearing a noise incredibly close to you. Silently glancing down, you found him, reaching for a mug on the dish rack. Right beside you. Extremely close.

Holding your breath to avoid making any surprised noise, your attention fixed on your roommate, oblivious to the tension he was causing you. He calmly turned on the faucet, pouring water into the mug, unaware that you remained frozen, arms stretched out holding the flour.

The flour.

Your eyes widened as you remembered it, but it was already too late—the bag’s weight had made your arms weak, and it was impossible to return it to its place or lower it carefully without making a mess.

Swallowing hard, you tried to lower your arms despite knowing the risk. Carefully, you were managing until...

“[Y/N], did you notice if we’re running out of coffee beans?”

His eyes landed on you, startling you momentarily and making you lose control of your arms.

And in a second, Shadow’s black fur had turned as white as the snow falling outside.

Keeping a terrified expression, you continued staring at the hedgehog covered in flour. He kept his eyes closed but then slowly opened them, revealing his ruby irises. Shadow blinked once, then twice, still processing what had just happened.

“What was that...?” he muttered, running his hands through his quills to remove the excess flour.

“Well... You look good in white...?” You shrank into yourself, averting your gaze before his stare could make you blush again—something that had been happening quite often lately.

“What?” Shadow raised an eyebrow.

This time, you couldn’t hold it back—your face immediately heated up. Quickly, to avoid letting him see, you turned back to the counter, accidentally knocking over the bowl with the batter, spilling everything on yourself and the floor.

Shadow’s eyes widened for a moment as he tried to make sense of the sequence of events. He looked at the mess on the floor, then at you, frozen with your back to him.

“Hey, you were supposed to mix the ingredients in the bowl, not on the kitchen floor.”

He smirked slightly, deciding to tease you a little, crossing his arms and waiting for your reaction.

Letting out an embarrassed chuckle, you hurried to grab a cloth, still avoiding looking at him.

Shadow found your reaction odd but decided to let it slide. For now.

--*--

Later that day, you started realizing that it was becoming impossible to deal with the constant pounding of your heart, the chill that ran up your stomach every time Shadow spoke to you, or the moments you found yourself frozen, staring at him while he was distracted, focused on the television.

But as the day went on, you also didn’t want Shadow to notice your behavior. You were sure it was just a passing phase—sooner or later, you would get over it. You just needed to keep your distance from him and not act like a hopelessly lovesick girl.

As a solution, you decided to hide whenever Shadow was around. Was the apartment small? Yes. But you would find a hiding spot—what mattered, in the end, was escaping him, no matter how much it hurt you inside.

The next morning, while making some eggs and bacon for breakfast, you kept your ears sharp, tracking every step he took around the house. Then, as he got too close, you had no choice—you slipped behind the kitchen door, holding your breath so he wouldn’t find you.

You heard him enter the kitchen, open the cabinets, and pour his coffee beans into his container. Then, he paused, made a confused noise, but continued walking out of the kitchen.

Only when you heard the sound of him chewing in the other room did you allow yourself to breathe again. Placing a hand on your forehead, you wondered how long you could keep this up.

Then, you smelled something strange.

Your eyes widened as you remembered—the eggs and bacon were still on the stove.

Bolting out from behind the door, you saw your once-delicious breakfast had turned into an unrecognizable, possibly toxic mess.

Sighing in defeat, you slumped your shoulders and discarded the burnt food.

“[Y/N], can you at least wait until I get a few fire extinguishers before burning the house down? This is the only apartment I have.”

You froze but didn’t respond, not trusting your own voice.

Later in the afternoon, you decided to sit on the couch to watch some movies and relax, knowing that Shadow was in his room, getting things ready for his next mission. Curling into yourself, you just hoped these feelings for him would fade soon—you didn’t want to ruin the strange friendship you two had built.

Lost in thought, you didn’t even notice when the hedgehog approached the living room. The only warning you got was the sight of his black quills appearing at the end of the hallway.

Startled, your only reaction was to throw yourself behind the couch, making a loud thud that immediately put Shadow on alert.

His ears twitched in confusion as he entered the living room, seeing the television still on.

His eyes narrowed as he walked closer to the couch—until he spotted you, completely visible behind it.

Sitting down, he got comfortable before glancing behind him, still puzzled.

“You okay back there?”

You jumped a little, still curled up in the corner, watching him.

“Uh... Yeah, yeah. I was just looking for the TV remote. I think it fell down here...” Avoiding his gaze, you focused on the floor, unable to handle the intensity of his ruby-red eyes staring at you.

Shadow glanced between you and the remote—sitting right on the coffee table—only growing more confused. And now, slightly concerned.

“You sure you’re okay?” He turned to you again, frowning.

“Absolutely...”

Without thinking twice, you suddenly bolted from your hiding spot at full speed, startling Shadow as he watched you disappear down the hallway.

Leaving behind a very, very worried hedgehog.

--*--

The next day, due to your professional obligations, you managed to set aside the overwhelming shyness you had been feeling around the black hedgehog. Now, the two of you were sitting at a table in the GUN cafeteria, analyzing some mission paperwork together.

You had just filled your mug with coffee and were now focused, reading through the document and making some notes. Taking a deep breath, you reached for your mug. As you sipped your coffee, you heard the sound of heels clicking against the floor, approaching your table. You decided to ignore it for now, assuming it was just another coworker passing by to get some coffee.

Then, as your gaze shifted to Shadow, you noticed two hands resting on his shoulders.

The hedgehog furrowed his brows, glancing to the side with an impassive expression to see who it was. A GUN colleague—but judging by her eyes, she was definitely not there for work.

Your eyes narrowed at her presence as you continued drinking your coffee, feeling a strange tightness in your chest and an overwhelming urge to strangle the woman.

“So, Shadow... Have you ever thought about going out for dinner after work?”

Your eyes widened instantly.

The coffee you had been drinking went up your nose, your throat burned as you coughed uncontrollably, slapping a hand against your chest in an attempt to clear your airway.

The rest of the coffee from your mug spilled onto the table, soaking the mission documents, while the rest landed on your lap, burning you slightly. You weren’t sure if you should keep coughing to breathe or hiss in pain from the heat.

Shadow stared at you, mouth slightly open. The woman looked confused at first—then, her expression shifted to disdain.

The hedgehog stood up, moving to your side, and patted your back a few times. His face was blank again as he helped you recover.

After a moment, you finally caught your breath, though you were still panting, eyes watering. When you looked up, you saw Shadow beside you, narrowing his eyes, while the woman on the other side of the table eyed you from head to toe in disgust.

“You okay? How did you even choke like that?” Shadow asked, crossing his arms.

“Y-Yeah, I’m great, don’t worry. Sorry for interrupting you guys.” Forcing a smile and sweating bullets, you quickly turned your attention back to the now coffee-stained paperwork, picking up a document to read—or at least, pretend to read—to escape the situation.

Shadow kept watching you with curiosity, scratching the back of his head when he realized you were reading the document upside down.

Sighing, he took the paper from your hands, flipped it the right way, and gave it back to you. That’s when he finally noticed the persistent blush on your cheeks. At first, he assumed it was just from embarrassment. But then, he heard how fast your heart started pounding the moment he got closer—his ears twitched, honing in on the sound.

He stared directly at your face, making you gulp nervously.

“Excuse me, I need to go get some water.”

Nearly jumping from your seat, you bolted out of the cafeteria, taking deep breaths to calm your heart, leaving your roommate confused once again.

Annoyed by the sudden lack of attention, the woman who had been flirting with Shadow scoffed and stomped away, grabbing her paperwork and leaving the cafeteria.

In the hallway, you were still slightly out of breath. Leaning over the water fountain, you took several gulps before walking a bit further. Pressing a hand against your forehead in exhaustion, you placed your other hand against the wall for support.

But something felt off.

It was as if your palm was pressing into a switch or some kind of button—it sank slightly under your touch.

Dropping your concerns for a moment, you opened your eyes to check what you were leaning on.

Your eyes widened.

Right next to your hand, in big, bold letters, was the word EMERGENCY.

A curse nearly slipped from your lips before the base’s deafening alarm blared through the halls, followed by the sprinklers activating, unleashing a downpour from the building’s fire suppression system.

Blinking in shock, you stared at your hand, unable to process what had just happened. Then, a loud thud made you jump.

Turning your head, you saw someone slip and crash to the floor beside you, scattering documents as they were quickly soaked by the flooded hallways.

A tiny smirk tugged at your lips when you saw that it was the woman who had flirted with Shadow. She struggled to get up, drenched from head to toe, desperately trying to salvage her hair treatment from the artificial downpour.

A touch on your arm snapped you out of it.

Your smirk immediately vanished when you turned to see Shadow, staring at you with an incredulous expression.

“What happened this time?”

Sweating nervously, you scrambled for an excuse and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“There was a... a mosquito! I tried to swat it, and I... accidentally... activated the fire system?”

As you spoke, you shrank under his gaze, your voice growing weaker and less convincing.

“You’re acting weird… And that’s saying a lot, considering your normal is already chaotic.”

“I am completely normal...” You lied again, still desperately trying to hide what you truly felt.

“No, you’re not.”

He took a step forward, but before he could press further, the shouting of GUN agents behind him caught his attention, giving you the perfect opportunity to make your escape.

Once again, you ran down the hallway, dodging his questions—leaving behind a very, very suspicious hedgehog.

--*--

The tension between you two was so evident that even someone on the other side of the country could notice it. However, both of you managed to work well together at the beginning of the mission, infiltrating the enemy base without major issues. Your task was simple: enter the base’s system room, insert the GUN flash drive into the main machine to activate password mode, and finally enter the code to disable the firewall, allowing GUN’s hackers to easily breach their system.

It would have been simple—if only your heart would cooperate and stop pounding.

Rushing through the narrow corridors of the base’s server room, you tried to stay focused, concentrating on the cold environment and avoiding the thought that the black hedgehog was right behind you, providing support.

Reaching the master machine, you crouched down, retrieving the flash drive from your pocket, inserting it into the system, and waiting for it to enable the password input. Your memory was always perfect when it came to things like this, so you hadn't written it down anywhere. You would only realize that was a mistake when it came time to use the codes.

The reason?

Shadow was standing right behind you, watching closely as you typed some basic codes to get the machine to accept the flash drive. His breath touched your shoulder, making your head spin and sending a shiver down your spine. Every time his warm breath brushed against your skin, your fingers faltered, forcing you to take a brief breath to regain composure before continuing.

Shadow had noticed that you seemed more nervous than usual for a mission like this. So, he decided to step back a bit, scanning the area and focusing on his task—guarding the surroundings and acting as your backup.

Letting out a silent sigh of relief at the distance, you finally enabled the passwords. But when it was time to type them in, your eyes widened.

You had forgotten the password.

Even you were surprised—your memory was known for being impeccable. A cold sweat dripped down your forehead. Turning slightly, you saw Shadow standing with his back to you, keeping watch.

Focusing back on the screen, you forced yourself to think.

“Okay, I got this…” you murmured under your breath, your fingers moving over the keypad. The screen flashed red—incorrect password. Your eyes narrowed. You were sure that was the right one… but what if it had a capital letter and some numbers mixed in?

Shrugging, you tested the theory. After entering the code, the system went silent, confusing you. You stood up, staring at the machine, which remained frozen, neither accepting input nor allowing any further actions. Crossing your arms, you decided to wait.

Shadow approached, raising an eyebrow as he observed you standing still, staring blankly at the equipment.

He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the screen started flashing red, and a loud alarm blared throughout the server room.

"SELF-DESTRUCTION PROTOCOL ACTIVATED."

Shadow’s ears flattened against his head, his expression turning to shock in an instant. He turned to you, who looked just as bewildered as he was.

“… What?” You muttered, scratching your head.

“[Y/N], what did you just do?” the hedgehog asked, frowning.

“I don’t know! I entered the password…” You clenched your teeth. “Okay, maybe I forgot part of it and typed it wrong.” You admitted, looking away.

“How do you put an entire base in self-destruction mode by entering the wrong password?!”

“Don’t ask me! Ask the idiot who set up this stupid system!” You crossed your arms at him, frustrated, but he just looked at you in disbelief.

“Smash the keyboard. With your luck, maybe that’ll fix it.”

"SELF-DESTRUCTION IN SIXTY SECONDS."

Shadow rubbed his temple hard, shaking his head.

“I knew I should’ve brought my Chaos Emerald… Come on.” Without hesitation, he grabbed your hand, pulling you swiftly out of the server room.

You both ran through the hallways as the countdown continued. Then, Shadow glanced back, realizing there wasn’t enough time. Without warning, he pulled you into his arms, his expression filled with irritation at having to sprint again—especially on a mission that was supposed to be a quick infiltration, not a combat scenario.

Using his Air Shoes, the hedgehog glided at high speed through the corridors until he reached a window leading outside. Stopping in front of the glass, he looked at you, his expression unreadable but clearly determined to get you both out safely.

“Hold on tight. I’m jumping through the window.”

Bracing himself, he prepared to leap.

That’s when it slipped out.

“If you always look at me like that, I’m going to fall even harder for you…”

Covering your mouth in horror, you looked at him, praying he hadn’t heard. But he remained focused on the window.

The impact came before you could process anything else.

Shadow crashed through the glass, landing perfectly on the ground without a scratch. He kept moving at high speed, carrying you past the base’s perimeter fence.

Setting you down carefully, he brushed the dust and glass shards off his quills. You sighed in relief, convinced he hadn’t heard your accidental confession.

Then, he suddenly froze. His body tensed, and he turned his gaze toward you—slowly.

“… What did you just say?”

“I didn’t say anything!” You shrank in on yourself, stepping back.

“I heard it… There’s no hiding from me. Say it again.”

Frantically looking around for an excuse, you found none. So, you did the only thing that made sense—you turned and tried to run.

But a firm grip on your wrist stopped you. Looking up, you met Shadow’s intense gaze.

“If I let go, you’ll run. And I’m not letting go until you say it again.”

“I said… I said I hated the mission, that’s all.”

“Stop lying. Just say it.”

A massive explosion erupted from the enemy base, sending flaming debris flying. You briefly considered using it as an excuse to flee, but Shadow’s eyes remained locked onto yours, unfazed by the destruction, focused solely on your reactions.

“You’ve been acting strange for days… and now this? What are you waiting for?”

You remained silent, your mind racing.

“Listen, [Y/N], do you like me?” he asked bluntly.

Your eyes widened. Your entire body froze despite the heat radiating from the burning wreckage behind you. Unable to hold it in any longer, you exploded.

“OKAY, YES! I LIKE YOU! Yes, I think you’re handsome! Yes, I get distracted because your voice is hypnotic! Yes, I think it’s cool when you protect me! And yes, I got jealous of that agent, but not because I care! Just because—ugh, I don’t know, maybe I’m an idiot!”

By the time you finished, you were out of breath.

Shadow blinked slowly. Another explosion rocked the base, a wave of hot air making his quills sway. But still, he kept his focus solely on you.

And you couldn’t take it anymore. Looking away, you stared at the scorched ground.

“… Damn it, I said all of that out loud.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I didn’t ruin everything between us, did I?”

Shadow raised an eyebrow.

“… Would the fire behind us be a valid excuse for me to run away?” You still tried to find an escape.

“Not from me.”

His words sent a shiver through you. Your eyes widened as he took two steps closer, his grip still firm on your wrist, pulling you nearer.

And then, with a soft sigh—and what you could swear was a tiny smirk—he leaned in, capturing your lips with his. His free hand found your back, drawing you even closer.

For a moment, you froze, unable to believe it. But then, your eyelids fluttered shut, and you melted into the kiss, savoring every second.

In the background, another explosion lit up the sky. Sirens wailed closer.

A distant figure screamed, “Help, somebody help me!” as he ran frantically, his coat on fire. Two others rushed in, desperately trying to put him out.

When Shadow finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, cheeks flushed. You grinned.

“Shadow… That was incredible.”

“Yeah… Would’ve been better without the guy on fire in the background… but we’ll let it slide. Guess that’s part of the adventure of falling for someone as chaotic as you.”

You laughed softly.

“I didn’t know you felt the same way…”

Shadow smirked.

“I could give you a list of hints you missed.”

Immediately, you blushed, looking away—only for him to gently tilt your chin back toward him. His red eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing within them.

Behind you, another explosion toppled a radio tower and a water tank, sending a dust cloud billowing into the air.

Shadow glanced at the wreckage, then back at you.

“You really have a talent for causing destruction… but that’s what I love most about you.”

And with that, he pulled you in for another kiss, right in the middle of the chaos.

#shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

Note

Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???

Grounded || LN4 & CL16

AN: Been a while since I watched it but this was fun to write ☺️ virgin!fem!reader

The backseat to Lando’s Range Rover was spacious and you stretched your legs out to settle in for the drive. A snow storm had grounded the planes in London and Lando had offered to put you both up for the night. As Charles assistant you had tried your best to find a hotel but with Christmas right around the corner everything decent was booked out.

Lando had said to call him if you ever needed anything, but you hadn’t been brave enough to use it until now.

“Are you sure it’s okay to drive in the snow?”

“It’s 4 wheel drive,” Lando replied as he looked at you in the rear view mirror and reassured you with a smile. “We’ll be fine, but if we get stuck at least we can huddle for warmth.”

Your eyes widened at the departing wink in the mirror and your cheeks could have melted all the snow within the greater London area. It would have been a service to the city worth a damehood by the King himself.

“Stop teasing my assistant, Lando,” Charles said with a laugh. “She accidentally deleted my calendar the last time you flirted with her.”

You wanted to argue but he had left you so frazzled you hit the wrong buttons on your iPad. It had been mortifying and the fact your boss was bringing it up again only made you slink lower in the leather seat. It was hard enough to work with such a handsome man, but the fact that his friends that he competed against were just as handsome made your life much harder. At least Charles paid you so there was a line of employee/employer relationship that kept things professional, but there was still the occasional comment that crossed that line - and you never knew how to handle it. Mostly, your brain just shut down.

Shoving your AirPods in, you started to open Spotify to find a distraction from your embarrassment and they both noticed it.

“I can’t help it, you cannot tell me that you don’t find the innocent vibe hot?”

Your fingers froze over the song you were about to play and realised they thought you were already listening to something.

“She’s my assistant.”

“That’s not a denial.” Lando was grinning from ear to ear. “I bet she’s still a virgin.”

You spluttered indignantly and both men looked at you, Charles over his shoulder and Lando in the mirror. Tugging the AirPods out you narrowed your eyes and lied, “I am not a vir-” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it but you swallowed and took another attempt, “virgin.”

The weak lie caused a crack in the press of lips, until both men laughed outright. Huffing, you crossed your arms and looked out the window. “Does it really even matter?”

“Aren’t you even curious?” Lando shot back.

“I know all about sex, for Christ’s sake, I do read.”

“I’m not sure reading is quite the same as doing in this case,” Charles said, remembering the many times he caught you slamming a book closed at his entrance. He was even more intrigued about those thick volumes now.

“Reading doesn’t threaten to leave me disappointed as I have heard men tend to do.”

Lando scoffed and shook his head. “I haven’t had that complaint. Charles?”

“No, no complaints either.”

“I’m sure it’s less romantic than the books describe too, like kissing. What is so good about possibly chipping a tooth, or sharing saliva?”

The SUV screeched to a halt into a rest stop and Lando turned in his seat. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve never been kissed?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Charles asked, before he turned and saw the telltales signs of your discomfort. “No, really? How? You are beautiful.”

Your mind went to that place of thoughtlessness, where every neurotransmitter misfired and your heart seemed to find itself beating in two places. “Uh…” you scrambled for an answer that they patiently waited for. “I don’t have any time to date so it just hasn’t come about.”

Charles certainly utilised your availability to be on call 24/7 but he hadn’t thought about the personal cost that took on you. He assumed you didn’t have or want a social life, not that he was the cause for it. Maybe that was why he next words slipped out without censoring, or so he told himself. “I will kiss you, right now.”

“Or I can, and I’m not your boss so there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it,” Lando countered, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Everyone deserves a perfect first kiss.”

You gripped the seatbelt across your chest as you tried to understand why they were both unbuckled and opening their doors. Cold air rushed in as both backdoors opened and they slipped in beside you, mist billowing from their breath before the warmth was sealed inside once more.

Your lips felt dry and they watched as the tip of your tongue peeked out between to wet them. Your fingers were gently pried off the belt until each hand was laced with theirs but you still stared ahead at the unhappy quiet road. “What if I don’t want to be kissed?”

Lando scoffed but Charles turned you to face him with one curled finger under your chin and a look that made breathing impossible. “Then tell me you don’t want to be kissed,” he whispered as his lips drew nearer, his breath fanning your cheek. The touch of his lips were chaste at best, a caress on cheek before trailing closer to the place where words failed. Your toes clenched in your boots and you trembled with anticipation until the air burst back into your burning lungs. Your lips parted with the intake and he struck.

Your stomach that had been knotted suddenly erupted in the explicable feeling you had only read about. Butterflies, chaotic and energetic, fluttered joyously around your insides and a foreign sound escaped your lips that danced with his.

“I think she likes that, Charles.” A hand on your throat stole you from the taste that you certainly wanted more of and when you opened your eyes you found the pair change from green to blue. “My turn, gorgeous.”

Lando didn’t tease. His hand squeezed and you gasped in response, a sound so similar to what Charles had drawn from you. He took the opening you gave him and devoured you with the hunger of a starving man. His tongue dominated yours as he tipped your head back and deepened the kiss further until you were certain you were going to be consumed by him.

You welcomed it.

You weren’t adept enough after two kisses to know whose was better, both left you yearning for more. But they were parked on the side of the road and you were all too well aware that losing your virginity in the back seat of a Ranger was not what you wanted. Even if your body screamed yes.

“How do you feel?” Charles asked as he eyed your swollen lips and your dilated pupils between your flustered blinks with pride.

“Uh…” You told yourself to think but it was nearly impossible, and the men chuckled with the knowledge they had kissed you stupid.

“Just think of what other ‘firsts’ we could be,” Lando offered as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip, wanting another taste. “We could be snowed in for a while.”

“Wait, what?” They cut through your mental haze with clarity and you sat up straighter. “No, the airport said tomorrow…”

Charles shrugged and your brows pinched. “The storm’s worsening, it might be a few days until the planes can take off.”

“It’s okay,” Lando assured you with a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll look after you.”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #f1 x reader

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imagines4thefandoms · 2 months ago

Text

First Fall of Snow

Bruce x reader; reader experiences her first Snow Day.

Wrote this cause hell froze over in Louisiana and we got SNOW SNOW

15k words pure fluff

Bruce has lived in Gotham for his entire life so he wasn’t new to snow. After 30 years he is tired of Gotham snow days. The snow is annoying. Closing down the streets(temporarily) and no matter how many snow days they experience Gothamites forget how to function. It's too cold and when he goes outside he feels like his 1 minute away from frostbite.

The kids felt the same. It's just snow, nothing special. Maybe they would go outside for a very intense snowball fight but after 30 minutes they were all back inside doing their own thing. They appreciated the canceled school and the time off work but they were no longer excited like when they were younger.

You on the other hand were so excited. You lived in the far south where it never snowed and this would be the first time you experienced it. When you told Bruce, he suggested you stay with him so he knew you were safe had plenty of food, and didn’t need to venture out into unfamiliar terrain.

The night before you kept glancing out the window waiting for the snow to start falling. Watching your excitement brought a smile to Bruce’s face. Ever since he met you it was like you awoken the childlike side of him. He danced in the rain, sang in the shower, and danced while getting ready in the morning. Hell, he even started smiling while in the suit. Clark froze when he first saw him smile at the watch tower.

The kids have noticed the change too. He goes easy on them but during training lets them take a night off or hell asks them to patrol in his place so he can take you out. When Bruce asked Jason he was stunned. It was the first time Bruce asked him to cover his patrol. Bruce normally asked Dick or even Tim, but it seemed like Bruce was more trusting of Jason since you started dating.

Jason followed Bruce to your apartment. Watched as he held you and nursed you back to health. After that night the whole house knew about you. Jason needed help with the constant teasing he was ready to dish. They bugged him to officially meet her. For weeks they followed you on dates and subconsciously perched on your apartment building roof. If they were asked it was a coincidence, but in reality they were already protective of their father's girlfriend.

On Labor Day, you finally went to his place for a family BBQ. You were engulfed in hugs by everyone. They thanked you for making Bruce more bearable and less Brucey. Of course just cause they liked how you changed him didn’t mean you were exempt from a full-on interrogation. They wanted to know everything. Your name, age, birthday, place of birth, why you moved to Gotham, what you did for work, and if you had any pets.

Bruce pried you away from them when they started to ask if you had a criminal record. He gave you a sheepish smile as an apology but you just laughed. You adored how protective they were of him. Even though Bruce worries how he’s doing a terrible job as a father, they prove him wrong with their antics.

Ever since that night, you spend more time at the manor than you did at your apartment. You rarely spent the night there, it was always at your place but it didn’t bother you. This would be the first time you spent the night at his place in the 6 months you were dating. And honestly, you were more excited about the projected snow than spending the night at his place.

Since Bruce knew you never experienced snow before, he got you everything you needed: a thick winter coat, snowshoes, gloves, a scarf, and a hat. He also made sure to grab some thermal underwear and long sleeves. When you insisted that your sweater and leather jacket with two pairs of leggings would be enough, he didn’t argue. He was just going to let you experiment, but your coat will be here waiting for when you change your mind.

When you woke up, Bruce was still in bed but was sitting up reading something on his phone with a cup of coffee. You stretched popping some bones then rolled over so your arm was across his lap. He placed his coffee on his nightstand and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. Bruce chuckled when you groaned about how it was cold. He pulled you up so he could properly hold you and you just buried yourself in his body heat.

It took a few minutes for you to fully wake up but when you did you remembered it was supposed to snow today. You jumped out of bed faster than a kid on Christmas day and quickly got dressed in your version of snow clothes. Bruce made you calm down so he could get dressed but you were too excited and just ran out of his room and to the front door. The kids were in the living room watching TV when you started jumping with excitement. They looked at you with confusing looks but laughed when you giggled about the snow.

Bruce called your name but you opened the door and ran outside before he could catch up to you. The entire yard was covered in snow. You couldn’t tell where the driveway was and where the actual grass was. The bitter wind slammed into your face turning your face bright red, but you were too busy laughing to care.

You looked up at the sky and tried to catch snowflakes, then you just collapsed in the snow to make a snow angel. Bruce stepped over to you and blocked the sun as he stared down at you with a smile. You held your hands up for him to help you up without destroying your snow angel. As you stood up you slipped on some ice but Bruce caught you. Once you got your footing you turned away and stared at your creation.

Bruce thought about how he was so lucky to have you in his life. This pure ball of energy that has on more than one occasion literally knocked him off his feet. You were looking around for the perfect place to start building a snowman when he got an idea. He texted the boys and they quickly came out to help him. While you were distracted, Bruce picked up some snow and formed a snowball. After making sure it was packed tight, he threw it at you hitting your shoulder.

You turned around and saw all of them standing in front of tiny piles of snowballs. Another snowball hit you in the face and you just burst into laughter. You could hear Tim apologize over and over again but you weren’t mad. Jason threw two at Tim to get revenge and then an all-out snowball fight erupted. Jason and Dick were on your team while Bruce, Tim, and Damien were on the other.

Jason quickly built a fort to hide behind and you helped make as many snowballs as you could. They weren’t the best but they weren’t terrible for your first snowball ever. You hit Tim on the arm and Damien on the leg, while you got hit all over. If there was a reward for the world's worst snowball player it would go to you, but you were having the time of your life.

Alfred called everyone in for soup, but you decided to get the last laugh. Bruce turned to make sure you were coming inside when you threw a snowball in his face. It didn’t hit him hard but it took him by surprise and knocked him on his ass. You let out a short laugh then ran over to see if he was ok. But you slipped on some ice again and fell on top of him.

Bruce started laughing, like a deep belly laugh. Everyone just froze. When was the last time Bruce laughed like that? Alfred couldn’t remember. The kids know they never heard that kind of laugh. You slowly got off him and held your hand out to help him up. Doing so almost knocked you on your ass but Bruce kept you steady. His arm was around your waist and he pulled you close to him. He quickly kissed your wind-bitten nose and brought you inside to defrost.

Bruce had to promise that he would help you build a snowman later just so you would step inside. The next time you went out, you put on the coat Bruce got you. The rest of the day consisted of multiple snowmen and snow angels then going inside to warm up then back outside. By bedtime, Bruce had to carry you to his room cause you passed out on the couch. You mumbled something about playing in the snow again tomorrow, and for the first time since he was a kid, Bruce was excited for another snow day.

#batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader

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hivemuthur · 2 months ago

Text

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 11.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! (we back at it)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.12.

word count: 6,3K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: My humble offering after the stress of previous chapters. I promise there is fluff.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

Christmas at home unfolded in its usual rhythm, but this time, it felt different. Despite your own scepticism, you actually attempted the moon salutations your dad had badgered you about. Later, you unapologetically devoured an inhuman amount of pierogi, earning both admiration and disapproval from your relatives. Yet, for the first time in years, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the festivities. Somehow, the snow fight with Viktor, and everything else that came with it, had lightened something inside you. The weight you hadn’t realised you’d been carrying felt less oppressive, and the chaos of your family became something you could actually laugh about.

For Viktor, Christmas with Jayce and his family was quieter than expected but in a way that felt oddly relaxing. Jayce, ever the enthusiast, made a commendable attempt at cooking a festive dinner, and despite Viktor’s initial doubts, it wasn’t a complete disaster. They spent the evening exchanging stories, the crackle of the fireplace filling the silences, and for the first time in a long time, Viktor didn’t feel like an outsider looking in on a tradition.

You returned to university on a train with Hale, the two of you chatting about everything and nothing. Hale, perceptive as ever, avoided probing you about Sheffield or Viktor, instead letting you adjust to the shift in pace on your own. Your laughter filled the carriage as you shared stories about your holidays, the comfort of familiarity easing the transition back to reality.

And yet, both you and Viktor found your thoughts drifting back to the snow—the cold biting your skin, the warmth of your laughter, your anger, and your resolution. You had kept it to yourselves, not out of secrecy, but out of reverence for how rare it felt. Now, as you both prepared to return to university, a mix of excitement and nervousness settled in your chest. Whatever had happened in Sheffield, whatever had moved, would soon be tested by the reality of your everyday lives. Neither of you knew what would come next, but Viktor’s fear had smoothed around the edges, and your hesitation had warmed up to hope.

When you all met by the entrance, it was hard not to skip slightly. Jayce was unloading his and Viktor’s bags from the trunk, while Viktor leaned against the car, waving his hands in the air, clearly saying something important—or groundbreaking.

“I’m thrilled to see you again, gentlemen,” Hale smirked, taking in the uneven division of labour. “I have to admit, this is exactly how I pictured your setup,” he wagged his eyebrows at Jayce, who only shrugged, playfully unbothered.

You walked up to Viktor, giving him a small, casual wave. He responded with a quiet “hi,” and before you could ask anything, he took a step, closing the distance between you. He had rehearsed the moment of your next meeting in his head, and this wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but his body acted entirely outside his brain’s jurisdiction.

“What are you—” you started, but your question was cut off when he leaned in and kissed you. Your body froze in surprise—hands hovering over his shoulders, tentative—before you relaxed into it, placing your palms on his arms.

The kiss was enough to make Jayce and Hale freeze, eyes wide and jaws dropped, as if they had just witnessed something completely impossible. When Viktor pulled back, he looked at you for a moment, his breath shallow. “I’m sorry I haven’t texted, I—”

Your lips quirked into a smile. “My family hunts down anyone that uses a phone over Christmas with torches and pitchforks,” you teased, your tone light, though it still carried a slight tremble of nervousness.

Hale burst your bubble with a loud clearing of his throat, his eyes rolling knowingly. He propped his hand on his hip, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement, and then turned toward Jayce, holding out his other hand. “Alright, pay up, unbeliever.”

Jayce, still a little stunned, dug into his wallet without saying a word, pulling out a ten-pound note and handing it to Hale. “You are a fucking witch, Hale.”

“I’m sorry, did you take bets on my private life?” you scoffed, slightly bemused in mock offence, your arms now circled around Viktor’s waist.

“We didn’t bet against you if that’s what’s worrying you. Just the time frames,” Hale said, waving his hand vaguely between you and Viktor. “Jayce wouldn’t accept that this”—he gestured loosely—“will resolve itself before mid-terms.” He shrugged, fanning himself playfully with his illegally acquired tenner.

“I hope now you know that my powers have no limit, and that I am always right,” he announced triumphantly in Jayce’s direction.

“I don’t even want to know what you guys talked about when we weren’t around,” you sighed, resigned to the thought of your little drama becoming fodder for your friends’ gossip routine. It felt completely alien to be wrapped around Viktor in public, though not unwelcome—he had solved your next equation for you: how you were going to tell the group that the volatile times were over.

Jayce seemed happy enough about losing the bet; he gave Viktor a pat on the shoulder and ran off to see Mel. Hale strolled off toward his dorm building, leaving you and Viktor to grab your bags and march together into whatever was coming next. You exchanged awkward small talk about your holiday experiences as you walked toward the lift, your hands loosely tangled together.

You entered the elevator with two other girls, who eyed you suspiciously. Viktor pressed the button for his floor with his cane, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, completely ignoring your questioning gaze.

“Excuse me, and what about my floor?” you asked, your eyebrows raised in mock offence as you shifted your bag higher on your shoulder.

“We are not going to your floor,” Viktor replied calmly, not even sparing you a glance as the elevator began its ascent. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders, letting part of his weight rest on you.

“Oh, we’re not, are we?” you challenged, turning to face him fully. “And where exactly are you dragging me, Mr. Master Planner?”

“Obviously, up to my room,” he said, his tone so unbothered it almost made you laugh.

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him. “And what would I possibly want to do in your room?”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a sly smile as he glanced sideways at you, his voice low and laced with amusement. “It’s about what I want to do. But if you have to ask so many questions...” He leaned in closer, his breath brushing your ear, and you could feel the smug grin blooming on his lips. “I want to eat you out.”

The two girls in the elevator exchanged a glance, one of them scoffing in incredulity, while you whisper-shouted at him in shock, “Viktor! There are people here!”

“You insisted. Now you know,” he replied, unfazed, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as the elevator continued upward.

The moment the door to Viktor’s room shut behind you, the tension you’d carried up the lift broke like a dam. You spun on your heel, shoving Viktor lightly against the door, your lips finding his in a hungry kiss. Your hands tangled in his hair, mussing the strands with reckless abandon. Viktor let out a soft noise of surprise, barely managing to steady himself with his cane before surrendering to your fervour.

Your fingers made quick work of his belt; the metallic clink startlingly loud in the otherwise quiet room. You barely pulled back from the kiss, your breath hot against his lips as you whispered, “God, you’re hot.”

Viktor’s ears burned red, his breath hitching as he stared at you, stunned and flustered. “Where did that come from?” he asked, his voice uneven, the faintest hint of a nervous laugh escaping him.

You smirked, tilting your head as you undid the last of his belt and tugged it loose. “Have you seen the mirror like… ever? You are always hot,” you breathed against his neck, unceremoniously shoving your hand down his pants, making him release a startled moan. “But now you are the hottest,” you said eagerly, wrapping your fingers around his cock.

Viktor jumped at your touch, his body instinctively trying to wiggle out of your grasp as he rasped in surprise, “I thought I made myself clear in the lift, so what is this you’re trying to—ah!” He broke off, his breath hitching as your fingers traced a particularly sensitive spot. His protest melted into a half-laugh, half-groan before he finished, “…do?”

“Maybe I want to eat you out first?” you retorted playfully in between kisses, as you walked him carefully toward the bed, plucking his cane from his hand and sitting him on the mattress. And he let you. He let your hands guide his torso to splay flat and your palms to travel down his chest and thighs, your skin hot with yearning, as you positioned yourself between his legs. He propped himself up to run his hands up your thighs, only to discover it was stockings hiding beneath your skirt.

“Is that for me?” It was meant as a tease but came out too admiring to provoke anything else than a smile on your face.

“Yes,” you said bluntly, and seeing some other remark already dancing on the tip of his tongue, you leaned in and took a long, deep whiff of his cock through the underwear. Viktor’s head fell back onto the pillow as he released a loud groan, his body curling up in heat. His words caught in his throat, and all he could manage was a shaky laugh. “This… isn’t fair play.”

“Oh no, Viktor, you’d better call the police,” you mocked, sliding his pants and boxers down to take him in fully, for the first time, in broad daylight. You paused, your eyes fixed on him, flustered and dishevelled by the doings of your own hands, and whispered in awe, “You are so fucking hot.” A smile bloomed on your face as you noticed the blush rapidly creeping up his chest.

Viktor took a couple of long breaths to steady himself, your warm hands resting in the creases of his thighs making him twitch slightly. “I might have come up with a compromise,” he managed to say, his words escaping in a desperate exhale.

Seeing your eyebrows shoot up in question, he motioned for you to come closer. Wordlessly, he guided your hands to rest on his hips and positioned your hips over his chest to straddle him. Your fingers tensed up, digging into his hipbones, so he soothed you sliding his palms flat over your ass cheeks and whispered into your core, “Trust me.”

You hesitated, waiting for him to make the next move. When you felt his face hovering over your underwear, you jumped slightly at the heat of his breath. “It seems to me that you come unprepared… though not unready.” He smirked, seeing the moisture that had already pooled itself through your knickers. “How attached are you to those?” he asked quietly, gliding his hands underneath the material.

“Not very attached, why?” Your tone was light, though trembling at the edges. Your eyes were transfixed on his cock already weeping at the tip, but Viktor didn’t see. All he saw was what was in front of him, when he ripped the material in one smooth motion and placed an outrageously loud, moany kiss on your core, sending a jolt up your spine. “Well, that’s just beautiful, isn’t it.”

He peppered slow smooches all over you and you jumped at each and every one. This was perfect—a sudden surge of affection tore through him, as he felt a strange sense of belonging there, smothered by your thighs. He scratched his nails on the meat of your ass and pushed his nose inside you, taking a long whiff. It went through your mind how incredibly gross and hot it was simultaneously, when your own whimper broke your focus—Viktor licked your clit with a hard tongue, while teasing your entrance with the tip of his nose. A low chuckle echoed through you, when he felt your inside clench on nothing.

You had to recollect yourself quickly, though Viktor’s tongue made it so, so difficult. You steadied the base of his cock in your hand and kissed the tip sweetly, drawing a muffled moan from his lips. His face snapped an inch away, only for him to brush his thumb against your clit playfully, causing your rhythm to stutter. You huffed, as if to scold him, but your mouth, already wrapped around his cock, never left him, and it made him giggle.

Seeing your resolve wouldn’t faulter, Viktor hooked his arms around your thighs and buried his face greedily in your core. The groan you let out caused his belly to knot tightly and send a vibration all the way up to his mouth, which he delivered back as a helpless mewl against your lips.

None of you would give in, completely invested in drawing hums and growls from each other, just to send one another over the edge. Until Viktor used his last resort—he pushed two fingers inside you to join his tongue in this sweet torture and you fell for the first time that day. You snapped your mouth away from him, your spine pulled up like that of a puppet to grind your hips down on Viktor’s face, as your wordlessly came into it, covering his mouth, nose, and cheeks with your sleek.

It was a completely new kind of intimacy for you. The gentle struggle for control between you mirrored the way you had pushed and pulled at each other emotionally, leaving you both nervous and excited all at once. The sound of your own heavy breathing filled the silence, and you found yourself torn between wanting to hug him, suck him off into oblivion, or scream at him—all these feelings mingling together, none overpowering the others.

“Good girl,” he let out a breathy laugh, slapping your ass cheek playfully. You groaned at your defeat, but having your full focus back, you eagerly resumed the work on the assignment. Having Viktor trapped underneath you, you cupped his balls in one hand and let your throat relax over his length.

You considered teasing him, but the thought vanished the moment your skin met his again. The helpless twitch in your mouth made you release a muffled yearning moan, and you realised that the feeling of pleasure spreading through your bodies was mutual.

Your mouth was hot on him, and the feeling of Viktor’s body writhe underneath yours, now nestled comfortably in his edges, made your chest fill with warmth. You worked him slowly, thoroughly, taking in all the small sounds his lips would give you. His hips bucked once in a while and when he couldn’t hold himself back much longer, he bit on your ass cheek, sending your chuckle straight into his burning core.

“Ah, I can’t—,” Viktor tried to plea, but you wouldn’t release him. You held his hips down with your weight and allowed him to spill himself into your mouth, the taste of him salty and heavy on your tongue as you pushed it down your throat, keeping it to yourself. His cock finally broke free with a quiet ‘pop’ sound, making him release a small hiss.

Viktor lay still, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths, your weight pressing down on him in a way that was both grounding and liberating. He felt no pain, no discomfort—only the warm afterglow of bliss, a soothing wave that enveloped him as you rested on top of him, your body soft and pliant against his. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, leaving only the two of you, intertwined like figures on a set of poker cards, your softness pouring itself between his sharp edges. The silence between you felt full, almost sacred, as Viktor's mind slowly unfurled, each thought calmly finding its place in the serenity of the moment. In this stillness, there was no rush, no urgency—just the quiet, powerful understanding of everything you had shared and the comfort of knowing it wasn’t over yet.

“Hey, come up here,” he took a deep breath, his fingers tracing a line up your spine. You obliged wordlessly, settling yourself in the crook of his neck, when he pulled you into a slow, grateful kiss. He could feel the taste of himself on your mouth, which made him deepen the kiss and pull you closer.

“I guess this is not on your mind now, but I just want to let you know that I’m healthy,” he said quietly, his expression thoughtful.

You blinked twice, your mind slowly coming back into your body. Fuck, right. “Jesus, I didn’t even think—”

“That’s alright. If you need some sex ed, I can be of service,” he smirked, right into your face. “Now would be the time you tell me about yourself.”

“Hm, I don’t know, I had this weird rash for days, can you take a look?” you started pulling your shirt up in a joke and Viktor whined, “Get off me, you vile woman!”

You both laughed, the sound light and easy, before he pulled you back in, his lips finding yours again in a deeper, more lingering kiss. “You are such a weirdo,” he said, affection dripping from his voice. He nuzzled his face into yours and let out a content sigh.

“I’m healthy too,” you smiled, feeling the familiar warmth between you two. It was strange how easy it felt to talk to him about something that could be so awkward with anyone else. It felt natural, in a way that wasn’t foreshadowed by the route you had to take to get there.

“I guess this would also be a good time to tell you I’m on the pill?” you said, your voice playful, your fingers tracing circles on his chest.

Viktor paused, his expression shifting as he gently cupped your face, making you meet his eyes. His gaze was serious, his tone low but steady. “That’s your decision,” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek, “but just know that other methods work for me too, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

You smiled at him, the warmth in his voice making your heart flutter. Leaning forward, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just for a moment longer than necessary.

You settled into a silent lull, tangled with each other. Viktor didn’t break the stillness for a moment, his thoughts weighing on him, before he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before.

“So... would you go on a date with me?” he asked, a slight nervousness creeping into the edges of his words.

Your lips curved into a soft, genuine smile, your eyes bright as you responded, “I thought we already were.”

He chuckled, the sound a little more relieved than he expected. “Not quite what I meant,” he said, his fingers lightly tracing the line of your jaw. “But yes, this is me asking... would you?”

You laughed softly, teasing him. “Well, I guess since you asked so nicely… yes.”

Viktor’s smile softened as he leaned in to kiss you again, the simple act of asking suddenly feeling like one of the most important things he had done in a long time.

***

The simple act of getting dressed wasn’t so simple, though. You paced up and down your room, your wardrobe splayed out—well, everywhere—as you eyed every single item of clothing, only to toss it aside with a grunt.

“Where is he taking you?” Sue asked, knowing she had to tread carefully. When she suggested that jeans and a t-shirt would fit anywhere, you responded with a huff and a pair of rolled-up socks thrown in her direction.

“I. Have. No. Idea,” you finally slumped down on the bed, surrounded by the pile of clothes. “Sue, I’m losing my mind. I think I should break up with him.”

“Jesus, I don’t know which one of you is worse,” your friend chuckled, proceeding to ruffle through her own wardrobe. She pulled out a simple blue dress with spaghetti straps. “There—you could wear this for a restaurant, a museum, or even a club. Maybe a pub too, but you might turn a couple of heads in it,” she said, placing the dress at your feet.

You peeked through your fingers, then paused. This... might work. “Do I get your boobs with it, though?” You shot Sue a glance, measuring the fabric against your chest.

“Will you stop being such a twat? I already feel like I’m overstepping. Hale should be your fairy godmother here,” Sue crossed her arms over her chest. “This is my lucky dress, and you will treat yourself with respect when you wear it, young lady!”

“Uh, how many times did you get lucky in it?” you said, feigning disgust as you held the dress in front of yourself by the straps dangling from your fingers.

“It’s freshly washed,” Sue shot you a sweet smile, and you only rolled your eyes. You put the dress on and, surprisingly, it fit. It actually fit so well that you worried it might be an overkill. A knock on the door pulled you out of the debate about whether you should go with jeans and a t-shirt instead.

“Are you… oh,” Viktor’s voice caught in his throat, and you immediately abandoned the jeans-and-t-shirt idea. He cleared his throat and repeated, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” You eyed him up and down—he looked… nice. Nicer than usual, as much as that was possible. He was wearing a long coat, dark brown woollen pants, and a white shirt that peeked out from under his red pullover. A matching red scarf hung loosely from his neck, and you suddenly remembered it was winter, so you had to wear a coat as well.

“Or rather, almost ready,” you quipped, grabbing your coat and a small purse.

“And why haven’t I seen this dress before?” Viktor leaned in to give you a peck on the cheek, his hand sliding down your waist.

“It’s Sue’s lucky dress, apparently, so whatever luck happens tonight, we have Sue to thank.” You tried to sound composed, but your nerves got the better of you, and it came out breathy.

“No shagging in my dress, please,” Sue said bluntly, trying to sort out the mess you were leaving behind. “And have fun, you two.”

Viktor took your hand as you walked out together—a completely simple and innocent, loving gesture that made your heart race with panic. Were your hands sweaty? You were the one who had forgotten gloves this time. You struggled to think of anything to say that might sound natural and suddenly felt trapped in your own awkwardness. Your nerves bubbled up, and you squeezed his hand lightly, trying to distract yourself.

“So,” you began casually, your voice a little too high-pitched, “where exactly are you taking me?”

Viktor gave you a sideways glance but didn’t answer immediately. He had the same tight, focused expression he always wore when he was working. You raised an eyebrow. He was definitely keeping something from you.

“Come on,” you prodded, “You can’t just say ‘you’ll see’ and expect me not to get curious.”

“I think you’ll like it,” Viktor replied, his voice even, but you could sense the hesitation beneath it. He had no idea if you would like it, because when he picked the place, it struck him so suddenly that he didn’t have the faintest idea about what you might’ve liked in the first place. So, he picked the most generic, fancy place he had heard of, and right now it made his skin crawl that he'd heard of it from Heimerdinger.

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read him, but he kept his usual unreadable composure. After a long pause, you gave up, deciding to let the mystery unfold. Though you had no idea what you were about to walk into, it was strangely... exciting.

The restaurant was nothing like you had expected. You blinked in surprise as you entered a lavish, high-end dining room with dim lighting, white linen tablecloths, and waiters gliding silently between tables. It felt stiff—formality hanging in the air like the scent of all things expensive: leather, wine, and heavy perfume. You felt suddenly out of place in your casual dress, surrounded by the perfectly groomed people around you.

“Viktor…” you murmured, looking at him. “This is... this is fancy. Are you sure this is the place?”

Viktor smiled nervously, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself as much as you. “No, I haven’t been here before, but I’ve heard it’s really good.”

You gave him a half-smile, your nerves beginning to spike. You hadn’t expected this. He was acting like he had no idea what he was doing, but there was a determination in his eyes that made you wonder if he really was as out of his element as he seemed.

As you were led to your table, the waiter noticed Viktor’s cane and immediately straightened up, his eyes scanning the space. “Would you prefer a more comfortable seat, sir?” he asked politely. “Something with more support?”

Viktor’s hand twitched on his cane, and you quickly jumped in. “No, this is fine, thank you.” Oh God, why couldn’t you just shut up?

When you sat down, you glanced at the menu, but the silence stretched out between you as you searched for words. You glanced at Viktor, who was completely absorbed in the card, and you could swear there was a drop of sweat forming on his temple. You picked up the menu, flipping through it but barely taking in anything. Your eyes landed on the prices, which made your throat tighten.

After a beat, you asked, trying to hide the edge of concern in your voice, “Are you sure about this place? The prices—uh, it’s a little... well, it’s a lot.”

Viktor didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked at you with an unreadable expression, and the silence settled in again. Finally, he asked, his voice quiet but sharp, “Why are you acting so weird?”

You blinked, feeling a rush of heat rise to your face. You could barely meet his eyes, feeling like you were under a microscope. “Me? Why are you acting so weird? You barely said a word tonight,” you shot back, your voice rising slightly in defence. “Is this what you think I like?”

“I… guess I’m… nervous?” Viktor’s voice faltered, sounding more like he had just begun searching for an answer. “Also… I actually might not have the faintest idea what you would like, and well…” His hand gestured vaguely, as if trying to dismiss the discomfort between you.

You blinked, your brows furrowing. “So you decided to take me to a place that makes me incredibly uncomfortable, instead of asking me?” Your voice came out sharper than you meant, more accusatory than you intended, but you couldn’t hold it back. “Why... why did you ask me out in the first place?”

Viktor’s face twisted in frustration, his lips curling into a tight line. “Because that’s what normal people do?” he retorted, his whisper barely containing the tension bubbling in his chest. “You will forgive me, but have I breached some kind of rule that you have made up in your head?”

Your chest tightened, but you couldn’t decide whether you were surprised or offended. You almost wanted to throw your hands up, but instead, you exhaled sharply, trying to rein in your growing frustration. “No, oh God, it’s not about that. Did you ask me on a date because you wanted to spend time with me, or because you felt like you had to?”

Viktor's expression faltered, his jaw clenching as if he were searching for the right words. His voice dropped even lower, still sharp but full of confusion and vulnerability.

“Jesus, please don’t do this,” he muttered, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and exasperation. “I asked you because I’ve never asked anyone before, and it felt… right. No matter how wrong it feels now,” he finished with a frustrated whisper-shout.

You blinked, the sudden honesty hitting you like a slap to the face. “Wait. You’ve never been on a date before?” You couldn’t hide the shock in your voice, your wide eyes searching his face for any hint of a joke. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t say that,” Viktor shot back quickly, his voice almost defensive. “I have been asked out. But I have never asked anyone.” He looked down, his gaze turning away from you as though the words stung more than he’d let on, like admitting it was something of a personal defeat.

Your heart softened for a moment, but you quickly masked it with your usual teasing demeanour.

“I, um…” You hesitated, the weight of the awkward silence pressing down on you. You could see the evening unfolding in your mind’s eye: a tiny, overpriced meal, polite conversation, and then a quick parting with a stiff “goodnight.” That wasn’t what you wanted, but you weren’t sure how to get the two of you out of this pit you’d dug. “Where… would you take me if…”

Viktor gave you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “If I actually knew something about you?” His voice softened with a hint of uncertainty. “I don’t know. How about you tell me?”

You bit your lip for a moment, staring down at your menu, trying to figure out how to salvage this. “I… like chips?” you offered, the words feeling ridiculous as soon as they left your mouth.

Viktor blinked, clearly caught off guard, before a small laugh bubbled up from his chest. The sound was warm and genuine, cutting through the tension between you. You couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of it all breaking the ice.

“Chips?” Viktor chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “You’re full of surprises.”

“Hey, don’t judge,” you shot back, still grinning. “It’s the simple things. Who doesn’t like chips?”

Viktor’s smile softened as the awkwardness between you began to melt away. He leaned back slightly in his chair, looking at you with a glimmer of something less guarded in his eyes. First, he spoke your name with exagerrated sincerity. Then, he took a deep breath, his voice a little more serious now, but still light. “Would you like to get a beer and fish & chips with me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was simple. It was perfect. You let out a soft, relieved laugh. “I thought you’d never ask,” you said, your voice lighter, warmer.

Viktor’s smile deepened, the weight of the evening’s tension finally starting to ease. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, leaning forward just enough to meet your eyes. “Should we run then? I’m low-key scared of that waiter,” he whispered loudly into your ear, leaning over the table.

You nodded eagerly and stood up from your seat. “Do you need some assistance in walking, sir?”

Viktor snorted at your weak attempt to mock the waiter’s accent, stood up, and pulled you under his shoulder, leaning his weight on you. “Yes, I’m afraid you will have to carry me to our next destination.”

“Hmm, that’s it. I’m planning our dates from now on,” you sighed, clearly pleased with yourself and the dinner you were eating out of the newspaper.

“Is that so? Bossing me around already?” Viktor hooked his arm around your shoulder. The two of you sat on the bench next to the fish and chips shop, and it was unbearably cold. You were wearing only a silly dress and a coat with no scarf or gloves because you had no idea what to wear and had left in a hurry. And he knew it.

“Are you complaining?” you asked, your words muffled as you were still chewing. You shot him a look, as if challenging him, though it would have been perfectly reasonable to complain—he had fallen only once, and only because he was trying not to. As usual, the moment led him to a more significant answer to a more significant question.

“No,” Viktor deadpanned. No, he wasn’t.

“That’s it? No?” You nuzzled closer into his arm, still eating. The vinegar made your nose burn—your other source of warmth, aside from Viktor.

“Eh, I am slowly accepting my fate,” he shrugged, completely unfazed. “It’s not going to be normal, is it?” It was more of a statement than a question, mused into the cold air. It made him feel warmer, though he had no idea what normal even was.

“No. Not in my nature. Also—who are you to demand normal?” You snorted, thinking of how weird the last three months had been, how weird your parents were, and wondering if it wasn’t just you who was not normal, but actually weird, in a way.

“I’m not demanding. As I said—I am slowly accepting my fate.” And it was the truth. Slowly, his fate was facing acceptance. Or rather, rapidly, as it had already been accepted and settled in his head: no other way from that point forward was possible for him.

“It must be terrible, to carry such a burden.” You let out a long sigh, intending to mock him but lacking any real bite in the end. You tried to eat your last chip but faltered and dropped it idly back into the newspaper.

“You have no idea.” You haven’t got the faintest fucking idea.

***

“Come on, last chapter,” Viktor nudged your elbow. Your head was resting limply against his desk, your hands hanging at your sides.

“I am never asking you again,” you groaned. It was so late, the letters had stopped making sense a long time ago. “I miss Sue.” It was meant as a joke, but you almost wept at the memory of you and Sue saying, “fuck it” and going to bed when you studied together.

“Don’t be such a baby. People would kill to have me as a study buddy.” Viktor leaned in and placed his hand on your neck. It was warm and made you even sleepier.

“I hope they kill me,” you said, lifting yourself up and slumping your hands onto his shoulders to look him dead in the eye. It was no joke.

“Please, I’ll feed you anything you want after that.”

You blinked at him absentmindedly. “Are you expecting me to say something very specific now?” Your eyebrow shot up, as if the dots had magically connected themselves. You weren’t going to say it, though—your mouth was dry, and your eyes were tearing up from exhaustion.

“I wasn’t. Now I am.” Viktor shrugged, his lips curling into a smile as he watched you like this. “Stop this; distraction won’t save you.” As if you could pull anything like that off right now.

“Viktor, how about begging? I am so. Tired. I beg you; I need to splay myself flat or I will die,” you whined theatrically, dropping to your knees before him, your hands gripping his thighs.

“You should switch departments,” he chuckled at your desperation. It was much cuter than Jayce throwing books at him in the exact same setup. “But, eh, I guess it’s fine. What time is the exam?”

Which was why he faltered. You had no idea how many things you could’ve asked.

“11. Yes—” You raised your head and looked up at him. He was already opening his mouth to say that you should revise in the morning, though his smile was saying something else.

“I will revise in the morning.” You smiled softly, almost whispering. I love you for this.

“It’s settled then. Will you stay?” He held out his hands to help you up.

“Viktor, I can barely move. I’m no use here now.” You took his hands, though you tried to get up using as much of your own strength as possible.

“To sleep, you degenerate,” he scoffed, still smiling. “To splay yourself flat and sleep, instead of, I don’t know... dying.” Stay, stay, stay.

“Yes.” You nodded many times to emphasize how much you were staying. I also love you for this. You could cry if you weren’t so tired. You almost did when he gave you a spare toothbrush, a towel, his boxer shorts, and his green jumper to sleep in. You smelled entirely of Viktor now, and you decided that any other smell stunk.

You sank into the mattress, tangling yourself around him like a snake—your thigh between his legs, his bad leg propped on your hip. Your arms wrapped around his waist, fists clutching his sleeping T-shirt with I ♥ Jayce Tallis written on it, your face pressed against his neck, as if your own smell of Viktor wasn’t enough smell of Viktor.

His hand rested in the small of your back, the other splayed under your head. He spoke your name softly.

Silence. Only breathing. He fumbled for his phone on the bedside table to set the alarm. 7 AM—you were going to have his head for this.

He whispered your name again, this time to himself. I am rapidly falling in love with you. You had stayed the night.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #the game of teaching body

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paladin--strait · 3 months ago

Note

12, 16 and 17 in the Christmas prompts with Jack Hughes, please [ maybe frenemies to lovers ooor brothers best friend?]

snowstorm - jack hughes

it was supposed to be a lowkey christmas weekend at luke’s family cabin in the mountains. just me, luke, his brothers jack and quinn, and no parents. honestly, i wasn’t all that excited. luke was my best friend, and quinn was cool, but jack? he was always the annoying middle brother. cocky, a bit of a know-it-all, and always ready to push my buttons. we didn’t exactly get along, and i wasn’t thrilled about being stuck in a cabin with him for a whole weekend.

“you sure about this?” luke had asked when i was packing. “jack can be a pain, but it’ll be fun. i swear, he’ll behave.”

“jack? behave?” i raised an eyebrow. “we’ll see.”

the first night wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great either. we played cards, ate too much junk food, and made small talk. but jack kept making comments and teasing me for no reason, and i just couldn’t let it slide. quinn kept things light, trying to defuse the tension, but i could feel the electricity between me and jack. it was like there was this invisible line between us, and we both spent the whole night trying to see who could cross it first.

by the time we went to bed, the storm had really picked up. snow was coming down hard, and the wind sounded like it was going to blow the cabin away. i pulled the blanket over my head, trying to ignore the fact that i was stuck here for who knows how long and also trying to drown out the sound of jacks snoring.

the next morning, i woke up to the sound of the wind still howling outside along with the sound of jack and his own howling. i threw on a sweatshirt and grabbed a blanket, deciding to hang out by the fire. anything to avoid being trapped in a room with jack for too long. i didn’t want to deal with him today.

but of course, he had other plans.

“you’re up already?” jack’s voice cut through the quiet as he walked into the room. he was in a hoodie and sweatpants, looking way too comfortable for someone who’d just rolled out of bed.

“couldn’t sleep,” i muttered, not looking at him.

he flopped down next to me on the couch without asking. “yeah, well, we’re snowed in, so you’re stuck with us now.”

“lucky me,” i said dryly, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

“oh, come on,” he said, sounding amused. “don’t be like that. it’s christmas.”

i just shrugged. “yeah, it’s great.”

he looked over at me, smirking. “so, what’s your deal? you and me have known each other for years, but we still can’t talk without bickering. what’s up with that?”

i froze for a second. i wasn’t expecting him to actually ask. “we just don’t get along. that’s how it is.”

jack gave me a side-eye. “so you’re just gonna act like we’re not basically the same person? both of us are stubborn as hell.”

i narrowed my eyes at him. “i’m nothing like you.”

“oh really?” he shot back, his grin widening. “you sure about that?”

“yeah,” i said, crossing my arms, “i don’t go around making everyone else’s life harder for fun.”

jack raised an eyebrow. “you sure? because you’re doing a pretty good job of making my life harder.”

i didn’t have a good comeback to that, so i just looked away, staring out at the snow piling up outside. there was this weird quiet between us, a kind of unspoken thing that hung in the air. jack wasn’t pushing me anymore, but the tension was still there. it was always there.

after a while, quinn came in, presumably woken up by the sound of us arguing. he grins as he looked between us. “hey, don’t you two get enough of this when you’re home?”

“he started it,” i muttered, but quinn was already shaking his head.

“sure, sure,” quinn said, laughing. “you two should at least try to have one nice moment while we’re stuck here.”

jack leaned back against the couch, stretching out like he owned the place. “fine. i’ll be nice.” he gave me an exaggerated grin. “but don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

i rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. we sat there, the fire crackling, the storm still raging outside. it was awkward, but the silence felt… different now. it wasn’t tense in the same way. i found myself glancing at jack more than once, but every time i did, he was looking at the fire, almost like he was waiting for me to speak.

the storm finally slowed down later in the afternoon, and the snow seemed to settle, leaving everything outside completely still. jack stood up, stretching his arms.

“snow angels,” he said, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“what?” i ask, looking at him confused.

“snow angels,” jack repeated. “you know, the thing you do when there’s a ton of snow and you’ve got nothing else to do.”

“really?” i said, raising an eyebrow as i stand up. “that’s what you’ve got?”

“yep,” he said, grinning. “come on, it’ll be fun. or are you too cool for it?” he pushes my shoulder softly, not in a mean way, but a playful way.

i roll my eyes, stumbling a little. “i’m not too cool for it. i just think it’s kind of dumb.”

“you’re scared,” he teases, a challenge in his voice.

“I’m not scared,” i shot back, walking up to him with my arms crossed. “but i am going to make the best angel out there.”

jack smirked. “we’ll see about that.”

we went outside after putting on our jackets, the cold still biting at our skin. but the world around us was gorgeous. everything was covered in snow, untouched and perfect. i could feel the quiet all around us, almost like the world had paused for a moment.

jack dropped to the ground first, sprawling out dramatically to make his snow angel. i couldn’t help but laugh at how over-the-top he was being. he looked at me, eyes shining with amusement. “you sure you can beat this?”

i dropped to the ground beside him, spreading my arms and legs out to make my own snow angel. the snow was soft, and it felt oddly peaceful lying there. i could hear jack laughing beside me, but for once, it wasn’t that annoying, teasing laugh. it was genuine.

when we finally sat up, both of us covered in snow, jack gave me a surprised look. “huh. you actually made a good one.”

“thanks,” i said, brushing snow off my arms. “yours is okay too, i guess.”

we walked back to the cabin together, still a little cold, but something had changed. the tension between us had cracked a little. maybe it was the snow, or maybe it was just finally getting out of that stupid cycle of arguing. either way, i didn’t mind it as much.

as we walk closer to the cabin, jack nudged me with his shoulder as we stepped inside. “so, next time, snowball fight?” he smiles, this time it's genuine and makes my heart do a little flip.

i laugh, shaking my head. “we’ll see about that.”

and for the first time in a long time, i meant it. something had shifted between us, and i wasn’t exactly sure what it was yet. but i knew one thing, maybe, just maybe, jack wasn’t as annoying as i thought he was.

#nhl #hockey #new jersey devils #paladin's fics!#creds: paladin #quinn hughes #luke hughes #paladin's holiday celebration!#paladin's christmas celebration!#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine

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vitalverstappen · 3 months ago

Text

Snowed In - L. Sargeant

summary: being stranded in the airport is never ideal... and you're stuck on Christmas Eve... with Logan.

pairing: Logan Sargeant x ex!reader

warnings: being alone on Christmas Eve? Unexpectedly seeing your ex?

word count: 3.3k

a/n: Merry Christmas Eve/Merry Christmas depending on where in the world you are! Hope you guys all have a great day!

masterlist

“You’ve got to be kidding me” you muttered as you stared at the screen. Every single flight going out of Heathrow had been either yellowed with “delayed” or completely red with “cancelled.”

You let out a long, frustrated sigh as you ran a hand through your hair, shoulders slumped in the middle of the airport. The clock on the wall seemed to mock you, ticking steadily as if time wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace. Christmas Eve, and you were stuck in the middle of Heathrow Airport, thousands of miles away from your family.

You’d been looking forward to this moment for months - coming home to your parents, reconnecting with old friends, and of course, celebrating the holidays with the traditions you had done since you were a child. But now, it seemed like the snowstorm outside had other plans for you.

A blank expression was on your face as you stared at the board again, willing one of the flights to magically be changed to the green “on time”, but the board remained unchanged. Every flight, one by one, flashed red or yellow, like some twisted game of “guess who’s not going anywhere.” The snowstorm outside had wrapped Heathrow in a thick blanket of ice and chaos, and your hopes of making it home for Christmas were quickly melting away.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes. You checked your phone again, but there was no update on your flight. No apology. No comforting message to reassure you that the airline was doing its best to get you home. Just silence.

You glanced around the terminal, taking in the sea of people who looked as defeated as you felt. Some were huddled in family groups, others pacing with their phones pressed to their ears, desperately trying to figure out their next move. There was no warmth to the place, just cold metal chairs and a sense of resignation hanging in the air. Everyone was stuck in this mess together.

You sank into one of the nearby seats, trying to take a deep breath. The reality of being away from your family on Christmas was starting to hit harder than the cold air from the open doors leading to the runway.

As you stared blankly at the flight board in the distance, the familiar, rhythmic sound of a suitcase being wheeled across the floor caught your attention. Without even thinking, you glanced up, your eyes locking onto a figure pushing his suitcase through the terminal.

Of all the people you could have looked at, of course it had to be him.

Logan Sargeant.

You froze. The last person you ever expected to see at Heathrow, much less on Christmas Eve. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, it felt like the world was spinning around you. He hadn’t changed much - still that easy smile, the same messy hair, and those soft blue-green eyes that had once made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

He paused, his suitcase coming to a halt as he noticed you sitting there, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. His brows furrowed for a second, but then his lips quirked into that signature grin, the one that made you weak in the knees years ago.

“Y/n?” he asked, his voice laced with a mix of surprise and amusement.

Your pulse quickened. What were the odds? You hadn’t seen him in years, since he broke up with you to move from Fort Lauderdale to race in F1. You had kept up with his career occasionally since he moved, but hadn’t come across anything pertaining to him in the past few months. But there he was, standing a few feet away, in the same airport, on the same night, with the same flight delays.

You swallowed hard, trying to muster up some composure. “What are you doing here?” You hated how defensive your voice sounded, but you couldn’t help it. You were just as surprised to see him as you were frustrated about everything else.

“I could ask you the same thing.” he replied with a playful tilt of his head. “Seems like the snowstorm is messing with everyone’s plans.”

You nodded stiffly. “Yeah, guess so.”

A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between you two, both of you awkwardly avoiding eye contact. The tension was thick - he had always known how to make you feel things, even after everything that had happened. After all these years, you still hadn’t figured out what to say to him, or if you ever would.

“So, uh, how’s everything been?” Logan asked, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted his weight, clearly as unsure of what to say as you were. His voice was quieter now, a little more guarded than it had been in the past.

You tried to keep your cool, glancing back at the flight board as if it might hold the answers to your growing confusion. “It’s… been good.” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral, though it felt forced. You cleared your throat. “I mean, life, you know? Busy. Same as everyone else, I guess. I got relocated here for work a few months ago.”

Logan gave a small, knowing smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed to be measuring his next words carefully. “So you moved out of Fort Lauderdale? I guess that explains why you’re flying out of here tonight. Though knowing you, I’m surprised you didn’t get an earlier flight home.”

The mention of “home” hit you harder than expected. You suddenly realized just how much you’d been hoping for a connection this Christmas - any connection at all. You hadn’t expected it to come in the form of Logan, of all people.

“Yeah, well…” you began, but the words came out flat, stuck somewhere between old memories and present circumstances. You shrugged. “Things don’t always go as planned.”

Logan nodded, a soft chuckle escaping him. “I think that’s the understatement of the year. What do they say - ‘plan for the best, expect the worst?’”

“Something like that,” you muttered. A deep breath followed, and you realized you hadn’t taken in much air since you’d first spotted him. Your eyes glanced down to his suitcase, where the letters “FLL” were displayed in bold lettering on a tag. He was on his way to Fort Lauderdale too. You could feel your heart in your throat as you realized that you would have crossed paths with him regardless.

“So… you’re still with Williams?” The question came out in an almost accusatory tone, even if you hadn’t meant it to. You were just trying to fill the silence, trying to make some sense of why he was standing in front of you, of all places, on Christmas Eve of all days.

His face softened at the mention of his racing career, but there was a shift in his posture, like he was bracing himself for something. “Not anymore.” he said, the words flat, almost matter-of-fact.

You blinked, surprised. “I-I didn’t know you were done.” You swallowed thickly. You weren’t sure why it felt like such a punch to the gut. Maybe it was the fact that so much had changed - your lives, your relationship - and yet, standing there, it was as if time never moved forward at all.

He leaned against the pillar near you, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah, I got dropped from Williams a few months ago - right after the Dutch Grand Prix.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, the words coming out a little more quietly than you intended. It was hard to imagine how much of a blow that must have been for him. His entire career had been built around getting into Formula 1, and now… it was like everything had crumbled.

Logan shrugged, trying to play it off, but you could see the frustration still lingering beneath the surface. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not what I imagined when I first got into it. But yeah, you get used to the ups and downs in this business.”

A quiet pause followed, neither of you quite knowing how to continue. The sound of the airport buzzed around you, a stark contrast to the quiet tension between you. After all these years, there were so many things you still didn’t understand about him. So many things left unsaid.

“So,” Logan spoke up again, clearing his throat, “what about you? Settling in okay over here? It’s been what-” he glanced up at the clock briefly, as if checking the time. “-a few months now, you said?”

You nodded, not sure if you were ready to talk about everything that had led you to this moment. “Yeah, work’s been busy. Getting used to the change, the pace. It’s been a lot, honestly.” You hesitated, then added. “It’s not Fort Lauderdale, though.”

Logan chuckled softly. “I don’t think anything can replace home.” His voice was light, but there was something in the way he said it - something nostalgic, something lost.

The ache of that place tugged at you too. Fort Lauderdale had been home, the place where so much of your life had been mapped out. The place where you and Logan had planned a future - your future together. But that was before everything had changed. Before he had changed.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I miss it too.”

Another silence fell between you two, as if you both were processing what you had just said. You silently hoped he didn’t pick up on what you had accidentally implied. You missed Florida, sure, but Fort Lauderdale wouldn’t have any meaning to you if it weren’t for the people who made the town so special.

“So what now?” you asked finally, the question more out of instinct than curiosity. “What’s next for you?”

“I’ll be in France next season, I signed a contract with IDEC to race for them in ELMS.” he said, a hint of a smile coming to his face as he brought up the news.

“ELMS?” you asked, your head tilting slightly as you did so.

“European Le Mans Series” he explained, quickly remembering you had limited knowledge of motorsports. “It’s endurance racing.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing the shift in his career path the best you could. “That’s… that’s awesome. Really.” you said, trying to sound encouraging. The truth was, you weren’t sure how to feel. Even as a kid, F1 was such a part of Logan’s life, and to hear that he was now moving to a different league caused a mix of admiration and sadness to bubble within.

“You think so?” Logan asked, his eyes lighting up for the first time since the conversation began. “It’s not F1, but I’m excited. It’s a different kind of challenge.”

You could hear the passion in his voice, the same fire you’d known when he first started talking about racing all those years ago. It was almost like hearing him talk about his dreams as if no time had passed at all.

“I’m genuinely happy for you, Logan. You deserve it.” you smiled, the words feeling authentic, even if the ache in your chest didn’t fully go away.

Logan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing back at the departure board that was still covered in red and yellow before turning his attention back to you. “Thanks. That means a lot hearing that from you.” He hesitated, then added. “Would you wanna maybe go get a bite to eat? I think we still have some time to kill.”

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. The idea of sharing a meal with Logan seemed strange, but at the same time, almost comforting. The thought of sitting down, away from the chaos of the people shouting at the airline workers, and just… talking, felt like a small refuge from the stress of everything else.

You glanced at your phone again, checking the time and seeing no updates on your flight. “Sure,” you finally said, nodding “Why not?”

Logan smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as his relief was evident. “Great. There’s a cafe around the corner. Not much, but at least it’s warm.”

You stood up, your legs a little stiff from sitting for too long. Logan shifted his suitcase slightly, guiding you through the crowded terminal toward the small cafe he mentioned. The snowstorm was still visible through the large windows, swirling around the airplanes parked in their aprons, and it only made the warmth inside seem more inviting.

As you approached the cafe, you felt the tension from earlier starting to melt away, replaced by a quiet kind of ease. The cafe was tucked away near the back of the terminal, and as you entered, the cozy, dimly lit space felt like a world apart from the frenzied hustle of the airport. A low hum of quiet conversation filled the air, and you could already smell the rich scent of coffee, baked goods, and overall comfort - something you’d been craving since you got the flight news.

Logan led the way to a small table near the window, where a couple people were already huddled in quiet conversation, nursing steaming cups of coffee. You slid into the chair across from him, feeling a little self-conscious but surprisingly at ease in his presence. It had been so long, yet it felt like a small part of you had never really left him.

As Logan settled into his seat, a soft chuckle escaped him, breaking the quiet that had settled between you. “I can’t believe this is how we’re reconnecting.” he mused, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a subtle warmth radiating from him despite the coolness of the airport surrounding you both.

You smiled faintly, leaning back into your chair, the soft clink of cups and the low hum of airport conversation in the background. “Yeah, of all the places. If you’d told me a year ago I’d be stuck here with you on Christmas Eve, I’d have laughed in your place.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into that familiar smile that used to make your heart race. “You were always the cynic, weren’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, but still felt a tug at your heart at the sound of his teasing. “Someone had to keep you grounded. You were always so caught up in your own head. I used to think you’d get lost in your own race car if you could.”

Logan’s chuckle echoed in the small cafe, and he leaned back in his chair, looking at you with a mix of amusement and something deeper. “Yeah, well, I did spend most of my time racing around tracks. I was so focused on getting to the top that I… missed out on a lot of things.”

The shift in his voice was subtle but undeniable. It was as if the facade he’d worn when you first saw him was melting away, replaced by a more reflective version of the Logan you used to know. The same Logan, but somehow changed.

“You always were single minded when it came to racing.” you remarked, trying to keep the tone light, though the words carried more weight than you intended. The memories of you together, back in Fort Lauderdale, flooded your mind - the long days spent at the beach, laughing in the sun, the plans you made, the future you had imagined.

His gaze softened at your words, and for a moment, he seemed far away, lost in the same memories. “Yeah” he muttered. “I was always thinking about what came next, but never really took the time to look around and realize what I was leaving behind.” He paused, his voice dropping a little. “I think I always thought I’d have time for everything… until I didn’t.”

The nostalgia in his voice was tangible. You could hear the regret in his words, but also kind of resignation, like he was finally coming to terms with how much had slipped through his fingers. How much had changed.

You leaned forward slightly, meeting his eyes. “I get it. You wanted the career. You were so driven. I don’t blame you for that.” You hesitated, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you’d been feeling all this time. “I think I just… wanted to be a part of that. I wanted to be a part of your life, but you were always so focused on the next race, the next move. And I just ended up… waiting.”

There was a long pause as the weight of your words hung in the air, thicker than the coffee around you. Logan looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, quietly, he said, “I never meant to make you feel like that. I never meant to make you wait.”

His words, though simple, were sincere, and they hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. Maybe you hadn’t realized just how much you’d been holding onto that unspoken feeling - the feeling of being forgotten, of being the second choice.

A small, wistful smile crossed your lips. “I know you didn’t. But… we were both so young. We had those big dreams, and I think we thought we could have it all.” You paused, staring down at the table for a moment before looking back up at him. “And I guess sometimes you can’t have it all.”

Logan’s gaze softened even further, and for the first time in years, there was a warmth between you, something that had been missing for so long. “I guess not. But if I could go back, I’d do things differently. I’d make sure you knew how much you mattered to me.” He let out a breath, a little shaky, as if the admission was harder than he anticipated. “I was so focused on my career, on proving myself, that I forgot to prove to you that you were important too.”

You swallowed, the ache in your chest making it difficult to speak. But you managed, your voice quiet. “I think we both got lost in everything. In life. In who we were supposed to be.”

Logan nodded, his hand running through his hair, the familiar motion pulling at the memories of late-night drives and quiet conversations between you two. “Yeah. I guess we did.”

For a moment, you both sat in silence, the weight of everything said and unsaid hanging between you. The past was never easy to confront, and yet, somehow, it felt good to talk about it, to acknowledge the things that had always been left unspoken.

Logan broke the silence with a soft chuckle. “Remember when we used to drive around, listening to music, pretending we had it all figured out?”

A smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. “How could I forget? We were both going to go to UMiami and graduate before moving in together. We thought we had all the time in the world to figure everything else out.”

“And then life happened.” Logan added, his voice laced with a mix of ruefulness and nostalgia. “And suddenly, it felt like we were running out of time.”

You smiled softly, the old ache still there but now softened by the familiarity of the moment. “Yeah. But I don’t think I ever really stopped caring about you, Logan. Not completely.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable, but there was no mistaking the tenderness in his gaze. “I didn’t either. Even when I tried to push it away, I couldn’t. I never really got over it.”

You both sat there for a while longer, lost in the quiet hum of the airport cafe, the past lingering around you like a shadow. Maybe the story wasn’t over. Maybe you’d never fully understand why things had ended the way they did in your teens. But as you shared that moment, that space between words, you couldn’t help but feel like you were both starting to find your way back - slowly, cautiously, but undeniably home.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #logan sargeant #logan hunter sargeant #ls2 #logie bear #f1 x reader #writing #creative writing #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #imagine #one shot #f1 one shot #le mans #f1 imagines #formula 1 fic #formula one fanfiction

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peepawispunk · 3 months ago

Text

I want this like a cigarette (Can we drag it out and never quit?)

Summary: A night in Miami gets interesting when you, a civilian, help Javier Peña catch a narco.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: You/Javi

Warnings/tags: meet cute, oral sex, creampie, unsafe sex, dirty talk, one ass slap, general Narcos warnings (mild violence, creepy vibes from a bad dude), unsafe situation Word Count: 4.6K My Masterlist

A special thanks to the girlies for beta reading this and encouraging me to finish it! <3

The air was moist and humid in the nightclub, typical of Miami in June. You grimaced in discomfort, sitting yourself at the bar and waving down the bartender.

"What can I get for ya?"

"A rum and coke please." You said, fishing around in your purse for some cash.

The cold drink was soon set in front of you, and you found yourself draining it, thirstier than you had realized, thanks to the summer heat. You waved the bartender down for another drink, intending to take your time with the second.

It had been a long day; you were in Miami for a work ‘retreat’, but your schedule had been too hectic all week for you to even take in the sights. The team dinner you’d just left had you desperate for a drink, needing a buzz to wind down.

"Hi." A voice said over the loud, thumping music of the club. You turned to see a young guy who couldn't have been older than his early twenties leaning against the bar next to you.

"Hi." You replied neutrally, hoping this guy wasn't about to flirt with you. Looking at this guy, all you could see was a kid. He was much too young for your tastes.

He waved the bartender down, ordering an expensive bottle of top shelf liquor for himself, and requesting two shot glasses.

"I’m David. Rodríguez. You should join me." He said, his tone less of an invitation and more of a command. He gestured to the VIP area upstairs.

He’d said his name with the air of somebody who expected you to know who he was. So he was probably some spoiled rich kid who’d never heard no for an answer.

Fantastic.

Your gaze followed his, and you froze for a second. He was clearly part of a large group; there were men strategically posted all around the balcony, carrying themselves with an air of somebody who carried. Your gut told you that these guys were bad news. You’d seen the news reports on the drug war; how it had made its way into Miami nightclubs. It was just your luck that you’d stumbled into the wrong club.

"I'm good, thanks though." You said with a polite smile, trying to let him down gently.

"Come on, I insist." The guy said, less patiently this time. His eyes flickered to his friends, and You got the feeling that this guy was trying to prove himself to them by picking you up. Great, he probably thought he was cougar-hunting, hitting on you like this. Maybe it was a dare? You pulled a face, taking another sip of your drink.

"I'm sorry, but I'm waiting for someone." You demurred when he looked back at you. It wasn't true; you were here alone, but there was no way you were going to tell this guy that.

“I guarantee you’ll have a better time with us. It might even snow later.” He smirked.

He clearly meant cocaine, and it was starting to fall into place for you that this guy was definitely at least a drug dealer, if not a smuggler. Probably not a very good one, if his lack of discretion was anything to go by. You sighed internally.

The guy kept pressing his luck, and it became clear to you that you were going to need more than words to get yourself out of the situation. You didn’t want to cause a scene near his goons, but you couldn’t stay here. You took mental stock of what you had on you. It amounted to not much more than a small can of mace to use to defend yourself if this guy followed you like you thought he might. You wished that you’d been able to bring your not-strictly-legal taser on the plane to Miami, but you’d make do.

You’d taken self defense lessons after a bad experience in college, soon trading them in for Krav Maga. It was the one exercise you actually enjoyed doing, and you’d stuck to it through the years, your instructor a badass Russian woman called Natalia who took absolutely no shit and delighted in a good spar.

You’d be okay, right? You’d done the self defense lessons. Granted, you’d rarely had to put your training to use in actual real life situations, but this wasn’t your first brush with a guy who couldn’t understand no. You just needed to get away from him and his goons. You had the feeling that he’d follow you if you tried to leave. If you played this right, though, he might at least follow you alone.

You’d slip away with an apology. He didn’t seem the type that could handle an audience for his rejection, so if he followed, he’d probably follow alone. You were banking on it.

"Excuse me. I need the bathroom." You said, draining your drink and standing up. You pretended to be tipsy, adding just a little wobble as you headed to the bathrooms down the hallway. You dug for the mace in your purse, clenching it tightly in your hand. If you were in a situation where an attacker couldn’t be deterred, it was better to be underestimated by them, Natalia always said. You hoped he’d underestimate you long enough for you to make your escape.

As you'd expected, he followed.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

You pretended not to notice, ducking out the back door of the club. If he wanted to follow you, you'd give him a good lesson on 'no means no.'

A surge of adrenaline raced through you as you stood in the alleyway, praying that he’d decide it wasn’t worth the effort and find something better to do. You wondered if it was better to back away, run away, or stay facing the door so he couldn’t sneak up on you.

Before you had a chance to decide, the decision was made for you.

"How rude of you." He said, bursting through the door, letting it slam shut behind him. He'd come alone. Your hands were trembling now from adrenaline and fear, and you wished that your self defence classes had focused a little more on how to handle that.

"You wanna talk about being rude? How about no means no, asshole." You hit back, backing away from the man.

"We could've had a good night together, you fucking bitch. Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?"

You actually laughed, a sharp, nervous sound that echoed through the alley.

"Please, dude. What are you, like twelve years old?"

He did not appreciate that.

"I'll fucking show you, gringo whore."

Even as your gut swooped with fear, you decided to let him come to you. Close range suited you better, and if he had a gun like his friends did, he'd be at less of an advantage. You knew you wouldn’t be running anywhere fast in your work heels, so this was your best option. You fumbled trying to ready the can of mace, dropping it. The tinny sound echoed through the alleyway, and he smirked at you.

Before he could advance on you, the door slammed open, and you felt your stomach drop. If it was a goon with a gun, your odds of getting out of here unscathed just lowered significantly.

A man burst through the door, gun in hand, training it on David. “David Rodriguez, you’re under arrest.”

David turned and tried to run, abruptly tripping on the foot you stuck out.

The man moved quickly, pinning David against the concrete and shoving the gun in his waistband, trading it for a pair of cuffs. David’s arms were floppy and toneless as they were moved behind his back to be cuffed.

“You knocked him out.” The man laughed, standing back up with a quiet grunt. You cringed in sympathy at his knees, damp from the wet concrete. You felt a petty thrill of satisfaction though, knowing that the asshole that had been harrassing you was going to wake up damp and uncomfortable.

“Thank fuck for that.” You breathed. “You know, when you burst out through that door I thought you were gonna shoot me.”

The man let out an amused huff.

"I'm not gonna shoot you. I'm Agent Peña. DEA.” He produced a badge, showing you he was who he said he was. “You've just helped us catch a narco."

"Well. I didn't have catching a narco on my vacation bingo card, but I'll add it to my resume." You laughed, introducing yourself. "I guess you're welcome. And thanks - for saving me from this asshole."

"You’re welcome. You handled yourself well. Thank you for saving me the trouble of chasing him down."

"I thought I’d take the chance." You shrugged sheepishly. “Never thought I’d be tripping strange men for the DEA.” You chuckled.

“I could’ve used someone like you in Colombia." He grinned. “Would’ve saved my knees a lot of damage.”

You laughed in commiseration at that.

He stooped to pick up the can of mace on the ground. “This yours?” He held it out to you, and you took it gratefully.

“Yeah, not that it did me much good, dropping it like that.” You felt your face heat with embarrassment.

“Happens to the best of us.” He said wryly. “I’ve worked with guys who’ve done worse. And they were trained professionals.”

“Well, that makes me feel a little better.” You said, still feeling foolish.

As you shoved the mace back into your purse, Peña radioed his partner, calling for transport to take the guy into custody. "Alleyway secure, we got him. He's out cold. No it wasn't me. He got too presumptuous with a woman in the club and she taught him a lesson."

Peña said the last part with a smirk on his face, looking at you appraisingly.

"They’ve secured his friends inside, too. Don't worry. You’re safe." He reassured you when your eyes kept gazing at the door.

“Maybe they’re the safe ones.” You joked, making Peña laugh.

“He picked the wrong woman to mess with.” He teased you, crossing his arms across his chest. “I was watching you two at the bar. I’ll admit, I thought you were in trouble when he followed you out here. I followed as fast as I could, but I didn’t think I’d be walking out to this.”

“I wouldn’t normally come out to an alleyway if a guy was harassing me,” You felt you needed to explain, “But I noticed his guys, they looked like they had guns, and I decided I liked my chances better out here.”

“You’ve got good instincts.” Peña said, his face darkening. “I know these guys, they don’t take no for an answer.”

“Yeah, I was starting to see that.” You frowned, your mind conjuring imaginary scenarios of the horrors Peña must have seen in his line of work.

Backup soon arrived in the form of a squad car and a pair of young looking field agents at the end of the alleyway. You leaned against the wall, watching them as they got the guy into the car. He woke as they got him upright, and Peña seemed to relish in reading this guy his rights as he was marched away, his clothes damp and dirty all down his front.

Once they'd loaded the now conscious but very miserable guy into the squad car, Peña took your statement.

"They might ask you to testify in court, seeing as we cuffed him unconscious. I should warn you though, these guys are powerful and dangerous, but we can arrange protection for you."

“Only if you’re in the protection detail.” You winked, shooting your shot. This guy was fucking gorgeous, you’d be crazy not to try.

Peña smirked, cocking his head to the side. "In that case, can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure. Lead the way, Agent Peña.”

“Call me Javi.” He said, leading you down the alleyway. He knew a better place to go.

You’d ended up at a more low-key place down the street from the nightclub, a place much more your speed.

“This place is so much better.” You told Javi, sipping at the drink he’d bought you at his insistence - a thank you for making his job easier tonight.

“It is, that club you were at is a tourist trap.” He wrinkled his nose. “Too loud to even hold a conversation there.” He nursed his own drink, a neat whiskey, in one of his large hands. The other smoothed his mustache down - a nervous habit maybe?

“Not that it stopped that asshole from trying.” You said with a grimace, and Javi scowled.

“That guy is a real piece of work. Been trying to get him for a long time. I’m sorry he was your introduction to the Miami nightlife.” His jaw was set, like he felt personally responsible for your misfortune earlier.

“It’s okay. It turned out okay in the end.” You said pointedly, “I’m somewhere better, with someone better. You have to let me buy the next round, though. To thank you.”

His lips pulled into a slight smile, the darkness lifting from his eyes as they wrinkled at the corners. “Now that, I won’t allow. I really cannot tell you just how much you saved my knees tonight.”

“I’ll have to find some other way to thank you then.”

“Oh yeah, what were you thinking?” He leaned in, smirking.

You looked down at your nails nonchalantly, then back at him. “I don’t know, a fruit basket or something.”

He laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Well played.”

“Or…” You trailed off, meeting his eyes.

“Or?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Or I could make you breakfast in the morning?” You finished your drink, setting it back down on the table. He followed suit, draining his glass.

“You wanna get outta here?”

“Yes please.”

His hand settled on your lower back as you left the bar, stepping out into the cooler night air. “You place or mine?”

“My hotel is just down the street?” You offered up, gesturing to the right.

He brought a hand up to cup your face, drawing you in to press his lips to yours. He smelled of whiskey and aftershave, and you felt disappointment as he ended the kiss, leaning back to look you in the eyes. “Sounds good, hermosa. Lead the way.”

It took all of thirty seconds for Javi to press you to the door once you got inside your hotel room, dropping to his knees and sliding his hands up your legs.

“Is this okay?” He asked, breathless as he looked up at you.

“More than. But I thought I was supposed to be thanking you.”

“We’ve got all night for that.” He rebutted, hands creeping under your dress to find the crotch of your panties, finding the flimsy lace soaked through and slick with your arousal. “Look at this cunt, so fuckin’ wet and ready for me.”

He slipped two fingers inside your panties, gathering the wetness and sliding it up to your clit, painting circles on the nub that had you begging for more already.

“Please, Javi. Don’t tease.” You slid a hand into his hair, directing his head to where you needed him. He leaned in, bunching your dress up and pressing his nose to the lace, encouraging you to grind against it as his hands found the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs painfully slowly. Once the lace was out of the way, his nose slipped between your lips properly, hard and prominent and the perfect shape to grind your clit against as his fingers found their way inside you, pressing and sliding and teasing that spot inside you and making you swear and pull at his hair.

He replaced his fingers with his tongue, licking his way inside you, and you nearly lost your balance.

"Fuck, Javi." You moaned, pulling his head back by his hair, directing his mouth higher. His dark eyes locked onto yours before his pink tongue darted out and licked your tiny bud. He pointed his tongue, licking you torturously slowly at first, teasing and tracing, making you cry out and throw your head back against the door. You tilted your hips to chase the sensation, urging him to speed up, to press harder, desperate for more stimulation.

"Patience, hermosa." He smirked up at you, bringing his arm up across your lower stomach, fingers curling into your hip with bruising strength, anchoring you in place so he could resume his teasing pace.

The wiry hairs of his mustache brushed against you as he settled back between your legs, pressing a feather light kiss to your clit, following with a tiny lick.

"Please, Javi. Been so long. Need to feel you properly."

"You're telling me no one's been eating this pussy? 'S a fuckin crime. Don't worry, I've got you."

It was at that point you realised he’d really been toying with you, teasing you. Because he was determined to make you come now. He focused his mouth on your clit with determination, the fingers of his other hand slipping inside you to nudge and curl at your g spot, pressing hard.

“Javi!” You screamed, searching for purchase, grabbing at his hair, your other hand digging into his arm that pinned you to the door, leaving crescent imprints from your fingernails. The intensity building inside you was almost frightening as he chased down your orgasm, and you tried to shift your hips for a reprieve, a momentary relief from this buildup that was going to hit you like a freight train. Javi growled when you tried to move your legs, closing them on his head. His elbow nudged your leg out of the way, making space for his shoulders to pin your legs open, all the while maintaining his rhythm inside you, bringing you closer.

He replaced his mouth with his thumb, rolling and pressing on your clit as he looked up at you, face gleaming with your slick. He held your gaze, tilting his chin up towards you with a small, self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“You’re so close, aren’t you? Gonna cum all over my fingers, then I’m gonna make you cum all over my cock.”

You whined helplessly, nodding. You were beyond words at this point as your cunt twitched around his fingers, on the precipice.

“Fuck yeah, baby. That’s it, can feel you getting tighter. So close, aren’t you? Can feel you squeezing my fingers, can’t wait to feel you around my cock. Cum for me.”

You screamed, throwing your head back against the door as your whole body shuddered and twitched with the force of your orgasm, your ears ringing and head spinning as he worked you through it.

“That’s it. Good fucking girl.” He praised you, working you through the aftershocks until you tried to slap his hand away, missing completely, a wordless whine leaving your throat. He grinned, removing his fingers from you, bringing them to his mouth to suck clean before reaching for you, bringing your hands to his shoulders to support yourself as he stood back up.

“You okay?” He asked, his lips brushing your ear as he pulled you close, keeping you upright while you recovered.

“I’m fucking great.” You giggled, gripping at his shoulders. “Not sure I can walk right now though.”

“Means I did my job right then.” He sounded pleased with himself, but you couldn’t fault him for that. You were pretty damn pleased with him too. He slid his hands down to your ass, splaying his fingers wide and digging into the ample flesh there, lifting you up against him.

The denim of his jeans was hard against your sensitive clit, making you gasp as he walked you over to the bed, laying you down gently and crawling on top of you to kiss you. You reached down to unbutton his jeans, pushing them down his hips and out of the way, before tugging at his shirt, urging him to remove it.

Soon, you were both naked, Javi pressed between your legs as he kissed you filthily, biting and sucking at your bottom lip as you took him in your hand. You stroked and nudged him against your clit, sliding him between your folds to slick him up, making him gasp as you finally slipped the tip of him inside just barely.

“Fuck, princesa. Please tell me you’re ready.” He bit out, his stomach taut with the effort to stay still even as his hips had a mind of their own, rocking slightly into you.

Instead of answering, you locked a leg behind his ass, drawing him inside you suddenly and completely, and Javi made a sound like you’d punched him in the gut as his tip nudged your cervix. You squeezed around him once, twice, trying to encourage him to move and Javi nipped your jaw in warning.

“Behave.” He rumbled in your ear, twitching inside you.

“Please, Javi. Fuck me.” You begged, squeezing around him again. That earned you a short, sharp slap to your ass cheek, making you squeeze him involuntarily this time. He braced himself on his forearms, his body pressed against yours from legs to chest. He set a punishing pace, and all you could do was hold on, one hand braced against the headboard of the bed, the other clawing at his back as he fucked you hard.

“Fuckin naughty girl, you liked it when I slapped your ass, didn’t you?”

You nodded. “I like everything you do to me.”

“Yeah you fuckin’ do.” He growled. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now.”

“Lemme get on top? Let me take care of you too.”

“Right now, you’re my little pillow princesa. You can fucking take it, and if you’re a good girl you can ride me later.”

You had to bite back a laugh at being called a pillow princess. Javi was smirking at you, eyes wrinkled at the outer edges with amusement even as he fucked into you, the slide of him against your g-spot positively sinful. He knew exactly what he was doing, and that cheesy line shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was him. Then, he bent his head to take your nipple in his mouth, and suddenly amusement was the furthest thing from your mind. He enveloped it in heat as he laved the stiff peak with his tongue, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Warmth coursed through your body like honey; a slow, gentle buildup of pleasure as he worked you over.

He paid attention to your reactions and noises like he was filing them away for the future, learning you, making pleased noises at your responsiveness and chasing your moans like he wanted to own them all.

He leaned back, settling his weight on his knees, taking your leg in his gun-calloused hand and bringing it to rest on his shoulder.

“This okay?” He checked, waiting for your nod to re-enter you.

“Fuck, Javi. So goddamn deep.”

“Fuck, yeah. Bet I could feel myself in your guts, baby.” He groaned, then apparently decided to do just that, splaying a hand over your lower stomach and pressing down. You both released twin moans at that, and you grabbed for his other hand, bringing it to your chest in a wordless plea.

“Fucking hell.” You cried, trying and failing to arch your back, his hands pressing you down and keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The pressure of his hand on your stomach, the nudging of his cock inside you, and the way he was grabbing at your breast, rolling your nipple with his thumb and looking like he wanted it in his mouth again was just on the right side of too much.

“God, you take it so well. This perfect tight pussy gonna take my cum, too?” He gritted out, hips snapping into you desperately, chasing his own release as you drew closer to yours.

“Yesssss, I’ll take anything you give me, Javi, fuuuuuck. Please.” You begged, reaching for him to come closer again. He moved his hand from your stomach to the mattress, leaning closer, pressing your knee to your chest as he kept pounding into you. His other hand left your breast to thumb at your chin, tilting your face towards his to kiss you.

You gripped at his shoulders and back, running your hands all over him like you didn’t know where you wanted to touch him most, a hand settling on his head to grip at his hair. You moaned into his mouth as he fucked into you, his pubic bone hitting your clit just right.

A sharper tug at his hair made his hips stutter, a filthy, punched-out sound rumbling in his throat.

Oh. He liked that.

You smirked against his lips, pulling a little harder at his hair.

“Hermosa, you’re not playing fair.” He almost whined against your lips. “Better touch that pretty pussy for me if you’re going to be doing shit like that.”

You slipped a hand into the tight space between you, stopping for a moment to feel what Javi had felt before, pressing down.

Shit, you really could feel him moving inside you, the nudge of something hard and thick under your hand.

“Fuck, baby. Please.” He warned, hips stuttering again. You grinned, bringing your hand further down to touch your clit.

“Sorry. Had to feel it for myself.” You apologised insincerely.

“Don’t sound fuckin’ sorry at all.” He panted lowly in your ear. “Don’t feel sorry, either. Feels like you’re pretty fuckin’ close to cumming all over this dick.”

“So close.” You admitted, increasing the pressure of your fingers on your clit. “You close, baby? Would be so fucking hot if we came together.”

“Fuck, can’t say shit like that, hermosa.” He warned.

“Come on, Javi. I’m so close. Don’t you wanna cum inside me while I cum around you?” You were so, so close, your cunt getting tighter and tighter around him as the tension inside you built.

He groaned in your ear, dick getting impossibly harder, and you realised it might actually happen. The thought was enough to tip you over the edge, your cunt fluttering and squeezing around him, your fingers struggling to keep their pace as you shuddered through it.

His jaw went stiff where it rested against your cheek, a low ‘hnggggggg’ sound caught in his throat, and you felt the warm rush of him filling you, dripping out of you as his hips canted involuntarily. You held him through it as he shivered and shook, catching his breath before he kissed you again, resting his forehead against yours as he slipped out of you with a soft grunt.

“Fuck.” You whispered, and he nodded in agreement.

“That was…”

“Yeah. I thought that kinda thing only happened in books and porn.” You huffed in amusement, and he chuckled in agreement.

“Me too.” He rolled onto his side, laying next to you. “You got a washcloth or something I can grab?” He asked, gesturing to the mess he’d made of you.

“Even better.” You answered, reaching over to your nightstand for a pack of wet wipes, grabbing a few for yourself and handing some to him.

“Baby, that’s fuckin’ genius.” He kissed your cheek, cleaning himself up and standing up to put them in the trash, waiting for yours too to take with him.

When he returned from the bathroom, you wondered if he was going to leave now, or make some excuse about why he couldn’t stay. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Does that, uh… That offer of breakfast in the morning still stand?”

Your lips curled into a smile, patting the spot beside you for him to join you again.

“Absolutely.”

#javi peña x reader #javi p x reader #javi peña #narcos fanfiction #smut #one shot #or is it???

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