#no one broke my heart but I sang it like I did | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

surielstea · 2 months ago

Text

A Warriors Heart

Based on a request.

Pairing: Virgin!Azriel x Virgin!Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been mated for a long time but have yet to act on it. What happens when alone in a house together?

A.Note: Sooo the original request asked for an Experienced!Reader but I was struggling writing a dynamic like that so here’s this, hopefully it’s okay. Also, Rhys and Reader are half-siblings!

6.2k word count.

The house was silent. A rare occurrence. Even when the three Illyrians weren't crowding it with their banter and heavy footsteps, Rhysand's mother's soft humming usually drifted from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pots and pans. That noise, that life, filled every corner of our home, like a heartbeat.

But tonight, the silence felt heavier. My brother and Cassian were away on an overnight expedition to another war camp, and Rhysand's mother had been summoned to the Night Court by my father. It was just Azriel and me. Alone.

I had known Azriel was my mate since I was eight years old, the bond threading between us as easily as a ribbon slipping through fingers. I had accidentally accepted it when I was fifteen, too young to understand the weight of what I'd done. We'd made a pact soon after, two awkward teenagers fumbling to make sense of the unshakable connection between us. Friends could be soulmates, we told ourselves. We swore to keep the bond platonic, to navigate it without letting it define us.

But no matter how much I tried to ignore it, the bond shimmered between us like sunlight on a blade, sharp and undeniable. Azriel's protective nature—his tendency to linger closer than necessary, to bristle when someone dared flirt with me—had always been my undoing. And while he could command a room with a single glance, I had no doubt he saw me as nothing more than the sister of his closest friend.

It was why I'd spent the last seven years pulling away, trying to temper the ache that came from unrequited feelings. Even now, with all the years and distance between us, I didn't know how to act when it was just the two of us.

I didn't hear his footsteps. I never did. But his voice, soft and steady, broke the silence as I stirred the stew on the stove.

"Smells good."

I jumped, whirling to find Azriel leaning casually against the doorway, his hazel eyes glinting with quiet amusement.

"Gods," I exhaled, clutching the wooden spoon to my chest like a lifeline. "You have to stop sneaking up on me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a rare, fleeting thing that made my heart skip. "Can't help it," he replied, shrugging one broad shoulder. "Your reaction is worth it every time."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stove, determined to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck.

Azriel moved closer, his steps silent, until I could feel the faint heat of him behind me. He leaned in, just enough for his breath to brush the back of my neck as he peered over my shoulder.

"Stop looming," I muttered, swatting at him half-heartedly with the spoon.

He pulled back with a low chuckle, the sound curling in my chest and settling there, stubborn and unrelenting.

As he retreated to the sitting room, I focused on the stew, determined not to let my racing heart betray me. But even with his back turned, I could feel him—his gaze like a tether, steady and unyielding.

I hummed a tune under my breath, one my mother always sang while cooking. The melody was soft and familiar, a distraction from the weight of the quiet house and the man watching me from across the room.

By the time I ladled the stew into bowls, the tension in my chest had coiled tight. I turned, the bowls in hand, and froze.

Azriel was leaning back on the couch, his legs stretched out before him, wings draped lazily over the sides of the cushions. But his eyes were locked on me, dark and burning, as though he could see straight through me.

"Ready," I murmured, more to break the silence than anything, nudging a drawer closed with my hip as I grabbed two sets of silverware.

I set the bowls on the table and slid into my chair, pretending not to notice the way Azriel settled into the seat beside me instead of the one across. The scent of him—night-chilled mist and cedar—washed over me, and I busied myself arranging the utensils just to keep my hands from shaking.

He started eating without a word, and I followed suit, though each bite felt like a struggle under the weight of his presence.

It was almost odd watching him eat food I made, so reminiscent of how mates accept the bond. Even if the tether between us was always at the back of my mind, nights like these brought them front and center as if laid out on the table in front of me.

"Thank you," he said after a few minutes, his voice low. Almost shy.

I glanced at him, startled. "It's no bother," I replied quickly, brushing off the gratitude. "I know you've been training all day. You needed it."

Azriel tilted his head, studying me with a look that made my stomach flip. For a moment, I thought he might argue, but he only nodded and returned to his meal.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he said finally, the promise simple but weighted.

I blinked at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Deal."

We ate in silence after that, though it wasn't uncomfortable. The sound of silverware against bowls filled the space, grounding us. But I couldn't ignore the way his gaze kept flicking toward me like he was holding back something he didn't know how to say.

Finally, I set my spoon down and looked at him directly. "What?"

His lips curved into a faint smirk, the kind that always made my pulse stutter. "Nothing."

"Az," I warned, dragging his name out like a thread.

His smirk deepened, but his eyes softened, the light in them catching like a spark in the dim kitchen. "I missed this. Just the two of us."

Heat crawled up my neck. "Is it so different than when Rhys and Cass are here?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "You tell me." He smirks. "You don't usually stare at me so much when they're around."

The words struck something deep, a soft ache I hadn't realized was there. I looked away, focusing on my bowl. "Maybe you just haven't been paying attention."

His wings shifted slightly, a rustle of leather against wood. "I always pay attention." The quiet conviction in his voice made me pause, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. "You seem so busy avoiding me that you don't realize how often I'm watching you."

I dared a glance at him, and the way he was looking at me—like I was something worth watching, worth knowing—stole the breath from my lungs. "Now you just sound obsessed with me," I replied, attempting to keep my tone light.

"And if I am?"

I quickly dropped my gaze, grabbing my spoon like it could anchor me. But the tension in the air didn't ease, and I knew—no matter how many years we'd spent pretending otherwise—that the bond was still there, pulling us closer with every passing moment. "Then I'd tell you to find someone else," I say, my pulse fluttering.

"No," he added casually, "you'd miss me if I wasn't here to keep you company."

I snorted, rolling my eyes to mask the sudden skipping in my chest. "You mean to annoy me, right?"

"Same thing." He grinned, his rare smile brightening his usually stoic face, dimples softening his features and making my stomach knot.

I shook my head, trying not to laugh as I resumed eating. "You're unbelievable."

"C'mon, admit it. You'd be so lonely in this house without me as entertainment." His voice was softer now, and when I glanced at him, his expression had shifted. The teasing was still there, but beneath it was something warm, something real.

I swallowed hard, the knot in my chest tightening again. "I hate to ruin your fantasy but you're not exactly a great source of entertainment."

"Do you want me to be?" he said, and the way his voice dipped sent a shiver down my spine.

We fell back into silence after that, but it wasn't the same quiet as before. This time, the air between us felt charged, every glance and shift of movement loaded with something unspoken.

As we finished our meal, Azriel leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied me. "So, what's for dessert?"

I scoffed at him. "Dessert?"

"Yes, dessert," he said, as though it were obvious. "You cooked dinner, so dessert is next. That's how it works, isn't it?"

I gave him a flat look. "You're awfully demanding for someone who just promised to make me breakfast."

"I like to think of it as balancing the scales," he replied smoothly. "Besides, I'm in the mood for something sweet."

The way he said it made my stomach flip, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Well, unless you're planning to bake something yourself, you're out of luck."

He sighed dramatically, resting his chin in his hand. "What a shame. Guess I'll have to settle for your company instead."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I said, standing to clear the dishes, though I couldn't keep the grin off my face.

"Who said I was flattering you?" he called after me, his voice laced with amusement.

"You can clean up dinner then, I'm going to go read," I say with a taunting smile.

"So I can't have dessert or your company?" He argued as I began retreating down the hall.

"I'll be in my room if you need me, shadow singer."

"Yes, ma'am." But his tone was anything but obedient. I reached my door, and when I glanced back at him, his smirk was firmly in place, his gaze following me like one of his shadows. I entered my room and closed my door with a finalizing shut.

I leaned against the door, letting out a shaky breath. My chest felt tight, the warmth of Azriel's gaze still lingering on my skin. It was always like this with him—subtle, unspoken, charged. And yet, neither of us ever dared to cross that invisible line.

Until tonight, maybe.

The sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen echoed faintly through the house, proof that he had actually listened to me. I smirked to myself, shaking my head as I moved toward my bed.

I plucked my book from my nightstand, letting his gaze and words fizzle away, forcing myself to focus on the story in my hands.

It was hard not to think of him, he was technically a part of me after all. The tether between us was dusty and untouched, but somehow pulsing with life. I hadn't meant to, but I tugged on that bond, and the noise in the kitchen halted entirely.

Before I could weigh the fallout of my actions there was a knock on my door, soft and hesitant.

I slipped from the bed, still clutching my book just for something for my hands to do. I opened the door before I could second guess myself, revealing Azriel leaning against the frame of it. "You finished with the dishes already?" I say with a tilt of my head.

"No, I—you called me in here," He said with a crease in his brow.

"I didn't say anything?" I mutter.

"But you did, the bond," He attempts to explain and I cringe, hating to watch him fumble around this.

"I didn't mean to," I confess with a slight smile.

I stepped back instinctively, letting him into my room before the vulnerability of the moment could choke me. Azriel hesitated at the threshold, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. His shadows coiled restlessly around his shoulders, mirroring the tension in his jaw. Finally, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

"You didn't mean to," he echoed, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

I shook my head, gripping the book tighter. "I've been doing well, haven't I? Not tugging on it? Not pulling you into something you didn't ask for?"

Azriel's gaze snapped to mine, sharp and unyielding. "Something I didn't ask for?" His wings shifted slightly, the leather whispering in the quiet. "You think I don't feel it, too? That I haven't felt it every day since I was sixteen?"

I blinked, his words striking me like a lightning bolt. He took a step closer, and the air between us charged, crackling with everything we'd been avoiding for years. "You think you're the only one pretending this doesn't exist? That it doesn't rip me apart every time I'm near you?"

The rawness in his tone stole the breath from my lungs. "Az... I didn't know. You—" I swallowed hard. "You've always seemed so controlled, indifferent to it."

He let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound cutting through the room. "Because I had to be. Because if I wasn't, I'd—" He stopped himself, dragging a hand through his dark hair. His wings flared slightly as if he was fighting the urge to pace. "You have no idea what you've done to me. And when you pulled on the bond just now, well it's a shock I can even find words despite the aching in my heart."

My heart thundered in my chest, the bond between us humming, alive and insistent. "Azriel," I murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I didn't mean to—"

"Stop apologizing," he interrupted, stepping closer again, his hazel eyes burning into mine. "Don't you understand? I want you to pull on it. I want to feel you. To be near you."

My lips parted, but no words came out. He was so close now, his heat wrapping around me like a second skin. The scent of him—cedar and night-chilled mist—was intoxicating, pulling me under, but I was far from drowning.

"I thought you wanted me to ignore it, and I tried my best," he continued, his voice quieter now, trembling with restraint. "But then you went out of your way to keep your distance. And it drove me insane. Do you know how hard it is to love who doesn't feel the same?"

My breath hitched, his confession settling over me like a second bond. "You—what?"

He smiled faintly, but there was no humor in it. "Don't make me say it again."

My knees felt weak, my grip on the book tightening to keep from falling. "I thought..." I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "I thought you only tolerated me because of my brother."

Azriel's wings flared again, a sudden, restless movement. "Rhys has nothing to do with this. He never has."

I stared at him, my heart racing, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and hope. "Azriel," I whispered his name a prayer, a plea.

He reached for me then, his hand hesitating before brushing my cheek. His touch was warm, grounding, and the bond between us thrummed in response, a living thing that refused to be ignored.

"I'm done pretending," he murmured, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. "If you don't want this that's fine, I'll distance myself. But if you do—"

I didn't let him finish. I dropped the book, my hands finding the soft material of his shirt as I yanked him closer, crashing my lips to his.

Azriel let out a surprised noise, a deep, guttural sound that sent heat pooling in my stomach. His wings flared wide, his shadows scattering as he kissed me back with a ferocity that stole my breath. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, and I melted into his warmth, into the strength of him.

I gasped when his lips left mine, trailing down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Just us," he whispered the words sacred, a vow.

"Us," I breathed, threading my fingers into his hair, tugging gently. "Always."

He lifted me then, his hands firm on my thighs as he carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently, his body pressing against mine as he kissed me again, slower this time, reverent.

My hands roamed over him, tracing the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his muscles. He shuddered under my touch, his wings trembling as they curled protectively around us.

"I've never—" he murmured against my lips, his voice ragged as I cut him off.

"Neither have I," I whispered, arching into him. "I trust you, Az."

Something in his eyes softened at that, the love and need in them so intense it made my chest ache. Then he kissed me again, and there was no more room for words.

Just us. Just this.

We were a fumbling mess, equally awkward as we were clueless. But I wouldn't have changed anything about it. Because I finally had him, his lips were on mine and his hands held me.

I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling at the back of his shirt, yanking it up, needing my hands on his bare skin. He pulled away from the kiss to get it over his head, discarding it on my bedroom floor.

His body hovered over mine, his wings curling inward like a shelter, cocooning us in a space where only we existed. My hands roamed the expanse of his bare chest, marveling at the strength there, the warmth that radiated from him. His muscles tensed and relaxed under my touch, a shiver rippling through him as my fingers explored.

He dipped his head, brushing his lips over mine again, this kiss softer, slower. "Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice a low rasp against my mouth. The vulnerability in his hazel eyes made my chest ache.

I cupped his face, smoothing my thumbs over his sharp cheekbones. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." My voice trembled, but it carried the weight of truth. "It's always been you, Az."

Something in him broke at my words. His forehead dropped to mine, his breath shuddering as he let out a soft laugh, tinged with disbelief. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

"I think I've got some idea," I whispered, my hands slipping to the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair.

His lips found mine again, but this time, there was no hesitation, no restraint. His kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against mine as his hands began to explore, sliding down my sides, tentative but firm. Each touch sent a jolt of heat through me, my body arching into him instinctively.

When his hand skimmed under the hem of my nightgown, his fingers tracing the bare skin of my waist, I gasped against his lips. He stilled, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. "Tell me if I—if you need me to stop," he said, his voice a strained whisper.

I shook my head, a soft smile tugging at my lips. "Don't stop. Please, Az."

He exhaled shakily, his hands more confident now as he lifted my nightgown. I helped him pull it off, and he paused to take me in, his gaze sweeping over me like a caress. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe, as though he couldn't believe this moment was real. His fingers brushed over my collarbone, down to my ribs, and I trembled under his touch.

"You're allowed to touch me," I said softly, my cheeks warming under his intense gaze. "I want you to."

His shadows curled around my wrists, feather-light, as though they couldn't resist the temptation of me either. "You're, soft," he murmured, an uneasiness in his eyes that made me realize why he was so hesitant. I took his hand in mine, running my thumb over a scar.

"Touch me, Az." My voice was a breathless plea as I guided his scarred hand to my covered breast, craving the feel of him everywhere. His breath hitched, but the hesitation in his eyes melted away as his hands explored my sides, fingertips trailing heat over my waist. His thumbs brushed against the underside of my bra, and my breath faltered. He froze, his gaze meeting mine, searching for any sign of doubt.

When he found none, his lips tilted in a barely-there smile, reverence written across his features. He reached behind me, his fingers fumbling with the clasp, his brow furrowing in concentration. When the garment finally slipped free, I flushed, exposed under his gaze.

His wings trembled, his eyes darkening with barely restrained desire. "You're perfect," he whispered, the words soft, as though they were meant for no one but himself.

I swallowed, my heart thundering as I reached for him, pulling him down until our bodies met. The heat of his skin burned against mine, a delicious contrast that sent sparks through every nerve. His lips found my neck, pressing kisses along my skin that grew wetter and hotter as he made his way down. My head fell back as he trailed lower, his mouth closing over my breast.

A soft cry escaped me, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly. He froze, pulling back just enough to look at me, concern flickering across his features. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I whispered, my voice shaky but insistent. "It—it feels good, Az."

Relief flooded his expression, and his lips curved into a small, teasing smirk. "Good," he murmured before returning to his task, his tongue flicking experimentally, his teeth grazing gently as he learned what made me gasp and arch into him.

My hands explored the expanse of his back, the muscles beneath his skin flexing and rippling under my touch. I dragged my fingers lower, to the base of his wings, earning a low groan from him that vibrated through my chest.

"You're sensitive there," I noted, a teasing lilt to my voice.

He let out a shaky laugh, his breath fanning across my skin. "You have no idea."

I grinned but left the spot alone for now, my hands sliding to his shoulders to pull him back up. Our lips met again, his tongue brushing against mine, tasting me, exploring me. His kiss was consuming, and I let myself sink into it, reveling in the way he took control, how he kissed as though he'd waited lifetimes for this.

I trailed my hands down his chest, my fingers mapping every ridge and dip of muscle until I reached the waistband of his pants. My hand slipped beneath the fabric, but his scarred fingers covered mine, halting my movements.

"Are you sure?" His voice was hoarse, his forehead pressed against mine, his breathing uneven.

"Yes," I murmured, one hand tugging gently on his hair to pull him closer. "I want all of you, Azriel. I've always wanted you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, the vulnerability in his eyes stealing my breath. "It'll hurt," he warned softly, his voice laced with worry.

"I know," I said, cupping his cheek with one hand, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. "But every time after this will be perfect," I added, a quiet promise in my voice.

His eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. He exhaled deeply, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Every time after this," he echoed, his tone laced with awe.

Still, his hand didn't release mine. "We have to get you ready first," he said, his voice gentler now, the determination in his gaze sending a thrill through me.

My face burned, but I nodded, moving my hand to his shoulder and digging my nails into his back as he slid my panties down my thighs. The cool air kissed my heated skin, but it was nothing compared to the intensity of his touch.

He started slow, his fingers sliding through my folds, teasing, testing. My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more, but he gripped my thigh with his free hand, holding me in place.

"Azriel," I breathed, his name leaving my lips like a prayer.

"Here?" His voice was dark, teasing, as his thumb circled my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

"Yes—there," I gasped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stifle the noises spilling from me, but his shadows coiled around my wrist, pulling my hand away and pinning it above my head.

"No, love," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "I'm done imagining what you sound like screaming my name." His breath ghosted over my skin as he pressed a kiss to my neck, finding the sensitive spot that made my body tremble. "Let me hear you," he uttered, his voice rough with desire.

A shaky exhale escaped me, and when he slipped a finger inside me, crossing a line that sent a burst of pleasure through my body, I did exactly as he'd imagined.

"Azriel," I moaned, my head tilting back into the pillows.

"That's my girl," he praised, the words making me clench around him.

His scarred fingers moved in a slow rhythm, in and out, each stroke deliberate, teasing. I could feel myself unraveling, the tension building in my core threatening to snap.

"I—I'm close," I whimpered, my voice barely audible.

"I know," he whispered against my neck, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin.

His shadows tightened their hold, pinning me further into the mattress as he placed his thumb on my clit, circling it hard. His mouth returned to my breast, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers.

Pleasure surged through me, and I cried out his name again, my legs trembling as he pushed me closer to the edge.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice like velvet, thick with want. "Let go for me, love."

And I did.

The tension snapped, and I shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over me in waves. My body arched into his touch, and his name spilled from my lips in a breathless chant. He slowed his movements, coaxing me through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to my skin.

When I finally came down, my chest heaving, I opened my eyes to find him watching me, his expression raw, reverent.

"My girl," he murmured again, his voice thick with emotion.

I reached for him, pulling him down until his forehead pressed against mine. "Azriel," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm ready."

His jaw tightened, eyes flicking over me once more but he nodded. His eyes didn't leave mine as he removed his pants and everything beneath it.

He hovered above me, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths as he shed the last of his clothing. My gaze followed the lines of his body, drinking in the powerful, carved planes of him. Shadows danced across his golden skin, softening the hard edges, but nothing could diminish the raw, unyielding strength that he carried.

"I've waited for this," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "For you."

Emotion swelled in my chest, tangling with the heat that still coursed through me. I placed my hand over his, pressing his palm more firmly against my face. "Then take me, Azriel. I'm yours."

Something broke in him then, the raw vulnerability in his gaze giving way to a feral hunger. He lowered himself onto his elbows, caging me beneath him. His wings flared slightly, a protective shroud as his forehead pressed to mine.

"Tell me if it's too much," he murmured, his voice softening as his lips brushed mine. "I'll stop if you ask me to."

I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. He kissed me then, slow and tender, as though sealing a promise.

When he positioned himself at my entrance, his gaze found mine again. His wings quivered as he asked one last, silent question. I answered by wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The first press of him was exquisite—a stretch that burned but didn't break. My breath hitched, and Azriel froze, his hand gripping my hip as though anchoring himself.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Yes," I said, my hands finding the base of his wings, the sensitive area so soft beneath my touch. I stroked gently, hoping to soothe the tension coiling in his body. "Keep going."

He nodded, his jaw clenched as he eased into me, inch by torturous inch. My body adjusted to him, the burn fading into a fullness that made my breath catch. Azriel buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking. "So fuckin' good."

I tightened my hold on him, my fingers slipping into his hair as I whispered, "Please, more."

He sunk in further, and once I was certain I couldn't take anymore he pushed in another inch. I moaned into his shoulder, relishing the burn of it, the pleasurable pain that sent me spiraling. Deeper, so deep. I lost words as he finally bottomed out, his hips meeting mine.

Tears shone in my eyes but I didn't tell him to stop, didn't want him to. It took me a moment to adjust, to so much as catch my breath. He lifted one of my legs up, shadows tethering it there, allowing the foreign stretch to lessen.

"Okay," I say shakily. "Mm, you can move." I nod, placing my hands on his shoulders.

He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, telling me he was here if I wanted him to stop. Then, he began to move, slow and steady, his hips rolling in a rhythm that built a delicious friction between us. Each thrust was deliberate, controlled, as though he was determined to make me feel every moment of my very insides molding to him, fitting around him and only him.

The pain faded entirely, replaced by waves of pleasure that built with every movement. I moaned his name, my nails digging into his back as he drove deeper, his wings trembling on either side of us.

"Look at me," he rasped, lifting his head. His eyes burned, molten with desire and something deeper, something that made my heart ache. "I want to see you."

I met his gaze, unable to look away as he moved inside me, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer. The connection between us deepened, an unspoken bond that seemed to tighten with every thrust, every shared breath.

Azriel's hips maintained their slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending a delicious ripple of heat through my body. His wings trembled above us, shadows curling and twisting around my raised leg, holding me in place. The stretch still burned faintly, but it was a sweet ache, one that was quickly drowned out by the mounting pleasure.

“You're so tight," Azriel groaned, his voice hoarse, breaking on the words. His hand came up to cradle my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. "So perfect for me."

I whimpered, my chest heaving as I struggled to keep my eyes locked on his. It was hard—gods, it was so hard when he was staring at me like that, his hazel gaze molten, filled with a hunger that set me ablaze.

"Az," I breathed, his name a plea I didn't fully understand myself.

"What do you need, love?" he rasped, lowering his forehead to mine. His breath mingled with mine, his lips brushing against my mouth but never pressing fully. "Tell me. I'll give you anything."

I couldn't find the words, so I arched into him, my nails dragging down his back, the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath my hands enough to make me shiver. He groaned low in his throat, his hips stuttering before he caught himself, slowing once again.

"Careful," he murmured, his lips ghosting over my jaw. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not," I managed, my voice trembling as his next thrust hit something deeper, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me. I gasped, my fingers tightening in his hair.

Azriel's smirk was dark, dangerous. "There?"

I nodded, unable to do much more than whimper as he shifted his angle slightly, rolling his hips in a way that made my entire body arch off the mattress. The pleasure was overwhelming, a slow, torturous build that had me teetering on the edge without ever quite falling over. "Faster," I begged, needing him to abuse the spot.

He did as told, quickening his pace, learning what made me gasp, what made my nails bite into his skin. His shadows curled around me, their cool touch a stark contrast to the heat of our bodies. They skimmed my sides, my thighs, whispering over my skin like a lover's caress.

"So beautiful," Azriel murmured, his voice filled with reverence. He dipped his head, his lips brushing over my collarbone, then lower, until his mouth closed over my breast yet again.

I cried out, my back arching as his tongue flicked over my sensitive peak. He lavished attention on me, his hand coming up to knead the other breast, his thumb teasing the hardened peak.

"Azriel," I moaned, my hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, desperate to anchor myself as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough as he nipped at the delicate skin of my chest.

"Azriel," I whimpered, my voice breaking on his name.

He groaned, his hips snapping harder against mine. The sudden force sent a shockwave through me, pleasure and pain twining together until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

"Good girl," he murmured, his lips trailing back up to my neck, finding that sensitive spot beneath my ear that made me shiver. "You take me so well."

I couldn't respond, couldn't think past the way he filled me, the way his body moved against mine. My free leg tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Azriel's pace quickened further, just slightly, enough to make my breath catch. His wings flared, the powerful appendages framing us, blocking out the world until there was nothing but him.

"Gods," he groaned, his voice breaking as he buried himself deeper, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I was sure there would be bruises. "You're going to ruin me, love."

I cupped his face, bringing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. He kissed me harder, his movements growing more desperate.

His pace grew more erratic, his hips snapping into mine with an urgency that sent waves of pleasure crashing through me. His ministrations worked me mercilessly, every thrust pushing me higher until I felt like I might break apart entirely.

"Azriel," I gasped, my voice trembling as my nails raked down his back, desperate to ground myself against the storm building inside me.

His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot and uneven. "Let go, love," he rasped. "I've got you."

His words were my undoing. The coil inside me snapped, and I shattered, my body arching off the bed as the pleasure tore through me. I cried out his name, gripping his shoulders as the waves rippled over me, again and again.

"Fuck," Azriel groaned, his thrusts faltering as my body clenched tightly around him. I felt him tremble above me, his restraint slipping with every broken sound that left his lips.

Through the haze of pleasure, I reached for his wings, running my fingers along the sensitive ridges where they flared above us. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath, his entire body shuddering.

"Gods," he ground out, his head dropping to my shoulder as I stroked the base of his wings, teasing the place I knew would unravel him completely. His hips snapped forward, deeper this time, and the broken groan that spilled from him sent another thrill through me.

"Az," I whispered, pulling him closer, my lips brushing his ear. "Inside.."

His head shot up, his molten gaze locking with mine as he searched my face. His jaw clenched, his restraint hanging by a thread as he rasped, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I breathed, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him down to me. "I want all of you, Azriel."

The last thread of his control snapped. With a low growl, he buried himself inside me to the hilt, his wings flaring wide as his release took him. His body tensed, a shuddering groan spilling from his lips as he gave me everything. I held him tightly, my hands stroking the base of his wings as he rode out his climax, his hips jerking with the aftershocks.

"Gods," he whispered hoarsely, his forehead pressing against mine as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're everything, love."

I smiled softly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his damp forehead. "And you're mine," I whispered, my voice steady despite the emotion swelling in my chest.

Azriel's lips found mine in a kiss so tender, so reverent, that it stole the breath from my lungs. He stayed inside me, his body pressed tightly to mine, as though he couldn't bear to let go just yet. And I didn't want him to.

Not now. Not ever.

Comment or reblog with a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @hufflepuff-pa55 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @ivy-34 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @aurorab99 @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @mmg777 @andreperez11 @thatacotargirl @123345566 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna @imyherondale @salvawhxres @bookishbabyyyy @anuttellaa @breadsticks2004 @azriels-human @mamita-vera @demetercabingreen-thumb @lorosette @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tothestarsandwhateverend @ahaha0246 @mellowmusings @mythicalcookie

1K notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 3 months ago

Text

Sunshine [11] - Blast

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.

When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.

Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.

“We have found the one.”

You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.

“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.

“Not for us!”

“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”

“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”

You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”

“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Our group chat.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”

“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”

“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”

Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”

Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.

“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”

“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.

“I googled it.”

“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.

“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”

You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”

“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.

Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.

“Your coworker?”

“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”

“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”

“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not over Logan yet.”

“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”

“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”

You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”

“Deal.”

One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.

Well.

Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.

But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.

You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…

You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.

“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”

You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.

Oh, he was already there.

If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.

However—

Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.

“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.

“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.

“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.

“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.

“I’m Hayes.”

You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”

Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.

“Uh, hi again.”

“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”

“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”

“So have I.”

“Jamie showed it to you?”

“Technically no.”

You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”

“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”

You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”

“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”

You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.

“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”

“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.

“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”

“And walked in on her and my best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Former best friend.”

“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”

“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”

Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”

“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”

“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”

“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.

“Hey, I talked about my ex.”

“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”

Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.

“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.

“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Do you like where you work?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”

A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”

You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”

He sipped his wine.

“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”

“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”

That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”

“Oh he still keeps those?”

“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”

“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”

“Really?”

“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.

“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.

Logan.

A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.

“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”

Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”

“There was a small accident—”

“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”

“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”

You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.

“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”

“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”

“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”

“Sorry, again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.

If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.

Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.

He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.

“Hey—”

“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.

“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”

When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.

“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.

“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”

“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”

You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”

Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.

“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”

“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.

“Bean?”

The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.

“Bean, are you there?”

“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.

“You think you can open the door?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”

“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”

“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”

“People will be angry at me.”

“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”

“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”

Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.

“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”

“You hear that, bean?”

“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.

“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”

“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”

A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.

“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”

“…No.”

Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.

“Theo.”

“I found him here and we’re friends now.”

“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”

“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.

“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”

There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.

“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”

“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, him.”

Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.

“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”

Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.

There it was again.

Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.

The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.

You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.

“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”

You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”

“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.

“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.

“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”

You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.

“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”

You smelt like—

Oh. Hayes had hugged you.

“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.

“He’s fine, princess.”

You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.

“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”

“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”

You took another sip of the whiskey.

“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.

“For now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”

“That’s not true.”

“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”

You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.

“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”

You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.

“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”

“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine.”

“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”

You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”

Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.

Oh.

This. You were familiar with this.

You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—

Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.

“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.

“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.

“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”

The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.

“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.

12- Wildfire

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x you #james logan howlett #logan xmen #wolverine logan

708 notes · View notes

meleeyz · 3 months ago

Text

୭ 𝗗𝗢 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗠? ˚. ᵎᵎ

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled.

୨୧ I had a dream where I had a baby and when I woke up I realized it wasn't real. FOR SOME REASON IT BROKE MY HEART SO THIS IS INSPIRED BY THE IMAGINARY BABY MY BRAIN JUST DECIDED TO MAKE UP

୨୧ The baby's name is up to you, I'd like to know your ideas ;)

୨୧ I'm definitely writing about Vi exploring the Firelights' hideout and randomly running into a girl holding an exact copy of her friend Little Man in arms.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Firelight's hideout was eerily quiet. You were standing at the foot of the tree with a small bundle in your arms. The baby—Ekko’s son, your son—stared up at you with wide, curious eyes, his features a miniature reflection of his father’s. The sight was a double-edged sword: it filled you with a bittersweet warmth and an aching longing.

It had been months since Ekko left to investigate the infected tree, months of waiting, worrying, and shouldering the responsibilities he had once shared with you. Every day, you prayed he would walk back through the doors, his grin lighting up the room like the first rays of dawn. But every day, he didn’t.

Your baby gurgled, tiny fists gripping your necklace, the one with the hourglass symbol that your boyfriend had made just for you. His presence was both your anchor and your heartache. He was everything you had left of Ekko, and you had to believe Ekko would come back. He had to. For his family. For his people.

Some members of the Firelights had stepped in to help, as they always did. They made toys, looked after him while you were busy with other things at the hideout, you even found some of the older children telling him stories about his father, how he saved them from somewhere or how much your son looked like him. But they couldn’t replace him, no matter how much they tried. Your son needed his father. And so did you.

When you told Ekko you were pregnant, you braced yourself for anything—confusion, fear, anger. You hadn’t anticipated his face breaking into the widest grin you’d ever seen, his laugh bubbling out like an uncontrollable stream of joy.

“Wait, wait—are you serious?” he had asked, his voice cracking with excitement.

You nodded, watching as he leapt up from his seat, pumping his fists into the air before grabbing you in a tight embrace. He kissed you so many times you lost count, his words spilling over each other like rushing water.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your hair. “I don’t even know what to say—thank you.”

It was… overwhelming, to say the least. You couldn’t fathom how someone with so much already on his shoulders could embrace another responsibility so wholeheartedly. But Ekko didn’t just embrace it; he flourished.

As he did with everything in his life.

The crib was his first project. He had pieced it together with determination etched into his features, sanding the wood and painting it himself. He showed off every detail with pride, especially the carvings of tiny fireflies along the edges.

Then came the room. The Firelights banded together to help him paint the walls in bright, playful hues, with murals of fireflies glowing against a dark blue sky. You watched from the doorway, tears in your eyes, as Ekko stood back to admire their work, his hand resting on your growing belly.

Ekko had been an awkward yet dedicated father from the moment your baby was born. The first time he held his son, his hands trembled with a mix of fear and awe.

“He’s so small,” he had said, his voice barely above a whisper. But the way he looked at your baby, like he was holding the world itself, melted every doubt you had ever had.

He learned quickly. When your baby cried at night, Ekko was the first to his feet, scooping him up and rocking him gently until the cries faded into tiny hiccups. He talked to him, sang to him, shared stories of Zaun and the Firelights as if the baby could understand every word.

“I want him to know,” he told you one night, his voice quiet as he cradled his son in his arms. “About where we come from. About what we’re fighting for.”

Those months together had been the happiest of your life. Even Vi’s unexpected return—her wide-eyed shock at seeing Ekko with a family—felt like a promise that things were looking up.

But then the tree fell ill, its vibrant glow dimming under the weight of some unknown blight. Ekko had left with promises to return quickly, determined to save the heart of the Firelights’ sanctuary. Weeks stretched into months. His absence became a gaping hole in your life, and with each passing day, the hope of seeing him again grew dimmer.

You swayed gently, humming a soft tune to calm the baby nestled in your arms. He had Ekko’s eyes and his white hair. Every time you looked at him, it was like a ghost of his father was there, watching over you.

The hideout huge door creaked open, and your heart jumped, hope flaring like a wildfire. But it wasn’t him. Just another Firelight returning from patrol. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced a smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Still no sign?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

The Firelight shook their head, avoiding your gaze. You felt your chest tighten, but you couldn’t let them see how much it hurt. You had to stay strong. For them. For your baby.

The day dragged on, the tension in the air palpable. The Firelights were restless, their leader’s absence weighing heavily on their spirits. They looked to you now, not as a leader, but as a symbol of hope. You hated it. You weren’t Ekko. You couldn’t inspire them the way he did.

All you could do was hold things together until he came back.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Part two here...

#arcane x reader #ekko x reader

682 notes · View notes

hypnos333 · 1 year ago

Text

Slowed to Anger

Alastor x reader

Synopsis: You loved the hotel and yet you risked your life for it

“Omg! Alaster I can’t believe you’re doing this and it looks so nice, I can’t wait to decorate” You gushed looking everywhere around the hotel making him chuckle.

“I’m glad you find this Journey to find this exciting my dear, I wish I could say the same but i’m stuck on a leash” Alaster sigh still smiling but with a broken one. You wrap your arms around his neck forcing him to wrap his around your waist.

“We’ll break this deal so we can go back to living happily together” You said kissing his temple as he closed his eyes as your kisses. “We have been married for decades it’s nothing we can’t handle My love” You continued saying.

Little did you know this was gonna be very different from those decades.

A war broke out between heaven and hell and you were against Lute and keep in mind you weren’t the best in combat nor fighting but you did have powers and you were gonna try your best to survive for Alastor.

You are a doe it made you fast but you felt like a prey everywhere and every time.

You created multiple shadows to corner Lute making her struggle until she actually stabbed you making clueless before looking down at your heart.

“Oh fucking hell” You whispered until your eyes went wide realizing what’s happening. You held onto the sword before Lute pulled it out of you before this time stabbing you in the stomach making you instantly let the life leave from inside of you.

Lute was about to check your pulse until a shadow elopes you making you disappear within an instant.

“M-My dear?” He asked hesitantly in horror seeing you gone and dead. He quickly held you into his arms rocking back in forth trying to heal you he couldn’t because he was trapped.

“No, No No No No NO NONONONONO” He yells out his smile vanished as tears leaked down his face and onto your body.

“This place reeks of death, there's a chill in the air

And I barely escaped being killed by a hair

My wife risked her life just to see the hotel thrive

"Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends while wife takes the fall"

Sorry to disappoint, that is not where this ends

I'm hungry for freedom like never before

The constraints of my deal surely have a backdoor

Once I figure out how to unclip my wings

Guess who will be pulling all the strings?” He sang before hiding your body somewhere safe to keep so when he gets your soul, you can come back home to him just like you wanted to do.

#alastor x demon reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor imagine

1K notes · View notes

breathinlove · 1 year ago

Text

band!ellie headcanons and smau

read this

sinopse: ellie williams is the lead singer in a band (+some texts with her). i lost the resquest im so sorry!

cw: nsfw after the texts with warning! swearing, ellie's a changed woman after you, reader works in a record store and ellie's a simp.

part 2

band!ellie who is obviously in a band with dina and jesse.

band!ellie who had cat in the band when they started, but they had massive drama when they broke up. (they're on good terms now tho! trust).

band!ellie who had a phase where her and jesse liked dina the fans call it throuple era

band!ellie who got matching flash tattoos on her very first serious show with dina and jesse.

band!ellie who is kind of a fuckgirl and looooves her fans iykwim.

“just until i find the wife.” that's her lame excuse.

band!ellie who is the type of girl to have groupies and sign their tits.

band!ellie mets you at the fuckass record store where you work.

"is that you?" you gather the courage to ask about what she was buying and she smiles proudly. "it's our debut album." "congrats." you sigh before lifting your head to continue. "i bought one this morning when they came in, thought it looked cool." and she has to ask for your number cause why the hell did that make her heart melt.

band!ellie who just looks like she's never kissed before when you're the one to initiate the first kiss. (:0)

band!ellie who 3 dates in invites you to one of her local shows, having you in the front line (eye contact goes insane...).

band!ellie who makes her thristy fans they bite their tongue when she leans over to you at the edge of the stage. singing to you, fingers on your chin.

band!ellie who soon enough is on tour and texting you less. you try to move on (you're soooo wrong for that because she's just busy and thinking about you).

band!ellie always talking about you to dina and jesse.

“i need to get back to my girl.” she's so delusional too.

band!ellie who is instantly only focused on you, weirdly adding your name in every cover of romantic songs they do at rehearsal.

band!ellie who the first thing she does when she's back is run to the record store.

“how was the tour?” you asked, she's leaning on the counter and you take a step back. she replied with an “i missed you.” and you're not even hesitanting anymore.

band!ellie who wastes no time asking you to be her girlfriend after you cuss her out because she was late to one of your dates (she thinks it's hot asf).

band!ellie who is soooo daddy upstage but you know she wants and NEEDS to be babied.

band!ellie who notices you were upset she had a show your birthday, so she called you on stage and serenaded you as if she was justin bieber… flowers and everything. (she sang “one less lonely girl”)

her fr^

band!ellie who when she's out and fans stop her… she's so sweet and attentive but she wouldn't want to be late to see you

“sorry girls, the wife is waiting i have to go.”

texts with band!ellie

nsfw (cw: cunnilingus [e!receiving], strap on sex [r!receiving]. switch!ellie!!!!).

band!ellie who absolutely loves good luck head when you're backstage.

“baby just needs some encouragement, am i right?” you ask softly between open mouthed kisses on her lower stomach and thighs. she nods. “yes… need your tongue.” she grunts, thrusting her hips. you start licking and kissing her slit and she can't help but grind against your tongue until she cums all over it.

band!ellie who loves it when you ride her strap too, but she has to switch out and completely dick you down… with permission after not touching you for so long.

“please let me fuck that pussy.” she knows you're getting tired, since you didn't even slap her hand when she started rubbing your clit. “come on…” she spits down your clit. “tired, babe?” you nod breathlessly grinding on her lap. she fucks up into you “tell me i can fuck you…” but she's already doing it?? “f-fuck me, ellie.” and now she's grining and holding you flat. “damn, this pussy's split open.” as she bottoms that shit deep in you. she will fuck you stupid.

a/n: this is a lot but i enjoyed doing it... and.... my phone's charged!

3K notes · View notes

sarawritestories · 8 months ago

Text

I Died With Her

Eris Vanserra X Fem Reader

Summary: Beron discovers your mating bond...A cruel prophecy fulfilled.

Content Warning: Death of Main Character, Murder, Unnatural cruelty, Beron's demise.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Its short and angsty...and I may be persuaded to make a part two. I also apologize if this one is not my best. I'm in a slump but this

Eris’s blood ran cold as he entered the throne room. His brothers grinning in cruel delight. His father standing in front of a throne that he did not deserve. Beron’s hand threaded through the now tangled mess of your hair. Forcing you to look your mate in the eye while your knees dug into the concrete. Tears streamed down your face as you met Eris’s russet eyes. Memorizing every sharp angle of his beautiful face, every freckle that kissed his pale skin, try to remember the feeling of his soft, thick locks through your fingertips. Memorizing the sweet scent of the fall breeze, embers with a hint of cinnamon that brought you so much comfort. Your beautiful mate, best friend, love of your life.

If only you had had more time.

Eris was staring at you as well, memorizing your sweet doe eyes, the plump curve of your lips, your smile, the warmth of your skin against his. The things he may never get a chance to encounter again, your laugh, your soft snores as you laid on his lap, the way you would scrunch your nose when reading your book, or how your body eased and relaxed simply being near him. How you were his equal in every way and how his body sang in harmony with yours. Clearing his throat he placed his cool mask on, “What is the meaning of this?”

Beron’s smirk was cruel as he yanked your hair back causing you to yelp. “I found something that belonged to you. I must say the bitch was hard to find.” Eris snarled as Beron released his grip and kicked your back, your hands and knees preventing your face from colliding with the ornate flooring. “She is yours isn’t she, Boy?”

“I would never sully myself with a common whore.” Lies, lies. The words felt like ash against his tongue. You lifted your head only slightly, and the solitary wobble of your lower lip broke his façade. Eris met his father’s gaze with fury in his russet eyes and fire roaring through his veins.

“There he is. Eris the lover.” Beron taunted pressing his foot against your back forcing you down on the cold marble and you cried out. “I didn’t raise you to be a romantic.” Beron snarled.

“You didn’t raise me at all.” Eris retorted his lip curling upward.

Beron quirked, “I should have known. Well, it’s a good thing I handled that problem already.” The High Lord of Autumn clapped his hands forcing his weight down on you causing you to whimper in pain. You reached out for Eris, only for one of the guards to intentionally step on your delicate fingers and you bit back your scream. As the guard approached with the head of Eris’ mother detached from her body.

Eris felt the bile rise from his throat at the sight and he clutched at his chest.

“Eris, I want you to listen to me.” The Lady of Autumn held her son close to her bosom. Eris, barely six, snuggled close to the warm scent of his mother. “One day, you are going to find your mate.” She smiled and tucked a loose strand of his copper red hair behind his ear and the young fae leaned into his mother’s touch. “When you do. You need to promise me to take care of them. Love them with all your heart.” She gripped his chin, “You keep them away from your father. Run far away from here.”

Eris scrunched his face, “I don’t want a mate. I want to be with you forever.” He smiled up at his mother, He tilted his head as he watched his mother’s eyes line with silver. “Mama, why are you crying?”

She pressed her soft lips against his forehead, “I just love you so much, My little flame.” Leaning her head against the top of his, “You can be with me for as long as you want.”

“Get off me!” You shrieked bring Eris to the presence, flames licking his skins as two of his brothers grabbed a hold of you to keep you in place as Beron fetched for a blade and Eris’ flames banked out. Your eyes found his once more and she mouthed “I love you.”

He mouthed those three letters back and then bolted toward his father, but not before two of his younger brothers grabbed him and forced him on his knees. Tears began to form, blurring his vision, he desperately tried to blink away to memorize every crevice of your face. “Eris,” Your voice cracked, and Eris could feel your fear and love shot down the bond to him and he felt his heart breaking. “I will see you in the next life. Being your mate has been the greatest gift the cauldron could ever have granted me.” Eris let loose a broken sob. “Promise me. You will move on. You will find reasons to smile. Love freely. Remember that I loved you.”

Eris could barely see, his breathing shallowed as the pain flooded his entire body. “I love you, Little Flame. I’m so sorry.”

You smiled, “I’m not. Being loved by you was the closest thing I would get to The Mother. If I could do it over and never change a thing.” Tears streaked your perfect face and yet being the brave female, he knew you where you straightened your posture. And the last words Eris heard, your sweet voice echoing through the throne room. “Long Live the High Lord of The Autumn Court.” Her eyes drifted to Eris as the eldest Vanserra son watched his father approach. “Eris Vanserra.”

The sword sliced through the air and Eris’s scream thundered through the entire continent. Eris’s body moved on its own, consumed by rage and grief and the numbness that came with the bond deteriorating. In the manner of thirty seconds, Eris Vanserra had lost everything…

And then he saw red.

Refusing to look at the floor, not wanting to see your head detached from your body. He refused to think about the plans he had made with you, a wedding, a family, a life of freedom, a chance to run away. Gone. At the hands of the man who was laughing with his brothers about your demise.

No one disrespects his mate.

Eris had no memory of the events that occurred when he rose to his feet, but when he was done, the entire throne room was in flames, the screams of his brothers and his father drowned by the familiar crackling sound of his flames. Letting the throne room burn, he exited out into the forest, your headless body in his arms. Eris felt nothing, the gold thread that once shined bright, fell limp and became ash. As Eris buried your body in your favorite clearing, he knew one thing was certain.

Any kindness he held in his heart died with you.

Story Taglist:

General Tag: @milswrites @lady-of-tearshed @tsunami-of-tears @readychilledwine @ceoofyearning

@velariscalling @daycourtofficial @prythianpages @writingcroissant @itsswritten

@illyrianbitch @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @nocasdatsgay @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars

@ninthcircleofprythian @thelov3lybookworm @riddlesb1tch @lilah-asteria

@kylaisra @nickishadow139 @aelincaddel @nighttimemoonlover @demirunner

@marvelbros-oneshots @mybestfriendmademe @le

#sarawritesstories #sitdownwithsara #acotar fanfiction #eris imagine #eris acotar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #dark Eris #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra angst #no happy ending #acotar #acotar series #acotar x reader

408 notes · View notes

allthingsfangirl101 · 27 days ago

Text

Hey, Bartender – Jake Seresin

Working as a female bartender has never been easy. It's worse when the last person you ever thought you'd see again walks into the bar.

"Oh no," I gasped. I put the drink I was making in front of the customer, threw down my towel, and quickly turned around.

"Geez, Y/N," Penny chuckled. "Slow down. What's up?"

"Nothing," I stuttered. Penny crossed her arms over her chest and stopped me from running away.

"What?"

I looked over my shoulder, my whole body skipping a beat. "Ohh," she held out. "Which one of them did you grow up with?"

"The tall gorgeous one," I mumbled before looking away from him.

"The one they call Hangman?" Penny asked.

"How fitting," I scoffed. "Yeah. Except I knew him as Jake Seresin. He was the guy every girl was madly in love with."

"Even you?" She chuckled.

"Sadly," I said, shaking my head. I gasped when she turned me around and pushed me toward the bar. Jake smirked when I appeared.

"Hi," I stuttered.

"Hey, Bartender," he smirked. "Can I get another round of beers for me and my friends?"

"Sure," I said, my heart sinking when I realized it.

"Thanks," he said, sending me a wink before turning around and walking back to his friends.

"Soo?" Penny sang as she ran into me.

"He and his friends want another round of beers."

"Of course, but did he. . ."

"He didn't remember me."

Without another word, I turned around and went into the back room. I tried to wait out Jake and his friends, but they stayed the rest of the night. Penny didn't ask any questions about Jake, but she let me keep clear of them.

Once the bar closed, Penny didn't let me leave until I told her everything.

"I have been waiting all night to hear about this," she chuckled as she hopped onto the counter. "How do you know that wannabe BackStreet Boy?"

"We grew up together," I started to explain. "Well, sorta. We were neighbors and our dads worked together. We ended up going to the same work parties and barbeques, but we didn't interact at school. I thought he'd at least remember me. Guess I was wrong."

"Oh, honey," he sighed. "I'm sorry. Maybe he just needs a memory refresher or. . . Maybe he. . ."

"Maybe I wasn't important enough to him for him to remember me."

* * * * *

Jake and his friends returned night after night. I stayed behind the bar, mixing and pouring their drinks. All without Jake remembering me. Every time he came up and ordered from me, my heart sank lower. By the end of the week, I couldn't handle seeing him every night.

"Hey, Y/N, can you take the trash out?" Penny asked, dragging me away from watching Jake play darts.

"Sure," I mumbled. Penny sent me a pitiful look as I grabbed the garbage bag.

I carried it outside, holding my breath as I passed Jake. He didn't notice me. . . Shocker.

Right as I was about to toss the garbage bag into the dumpster, the bottom broke, spilling the contents all around my feet.

"Of course," I scoffed. I knelt down and started picking up the bottles. Suddenly, someone joined me. I looked up to see Jake helping me.

"I hate when this happens," he flirted. "Let me help."

I watched him for a second as he picked up the bottles. He looked up at me and sent me a wink.

"You don't remember me, do you?" I asked, my voice quiet.

"Why would I. . ." Jake stopped himself as he looked up and studied me. "Holy. . . Y/N?"

"Hi, Jake," I said, my voice getting caught in my throat.

"Wow," he chuckled. "It's been so long. How are you?"

"Please don't," I said a little harsher than I needed to as I stood up and threw away the bottles I was holding.

"Don't what?" He stuttered as he stood up and threw his armful of bottles away.

"Don't act like you remember me after all these years."

I started to walk away but he gently grabbed my hand.

"What makes you think that I don't remember you, Y/N?"

I looked up at him and pulled my hand out of his grasp. I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted my weight. "Really, Jake?" I scoffed. "I have worked here for three years. You and your band of pilots have been here every day this week. You have come straight up to me, at least three times a night, and looked me in the eyes as you ordered a drink. And it takes me picking up garbage for you to remember me."

"Who says I didn't remember you the second I walked up to the bar?"

"You acted like you had no idea who I was," I said, my voice dropping.

"I know I did," he sighed. "And I'm sorry about that, Y/N. Truly, I am. But, to be honest, when I walked in and saw you, I freaked. I went to get drinks and didn't think I'd run into an old friend."

"Old friend?" I couldn't help but doubt. "Jake, you never spoke to me unless we were at our dads' work parties. You completely ignored me at school."

"I know that too," he said, his tone changing. "You have to believe me, Y/N, the only reason I didn't hang out with you at school is because I thought you'd think I was an idiot."

"Wait," I slightly cut him off. "You didn't think you were smart enough to hang out with me?"

"I was embarrassed," he nodded.

"Jake," I sighed. "That's. . . I'm sorry, but I don't believe you."

* * * * *

I didn't tell Penny what happened last night. When I called her this morning and told her I woke up sick and needed the day off, she didn't push back.

Instead of being at work, I spent the entire day thinking back through my and Jake's childhood. There was nothing in any of the few occasions we interacted to hint that Jake was too embarrassed to hang out with me. He never even looked at me in high school.

Later that night, I got a call from Penny.

"You need to get here," she said the second I answered.

"Wait, what?"

"The trainees came in again tonight," she said. "They came and all Hangman has done since he realized you weren't here is sit in the corner and drink. His friends went home an hour ago and he's still here drinking."

"Pen. . ."

"He keeps mumbling things about you," she cut me off.

"What kinds of things?" I couldn't help but ask.

"That he shouldn't have ignored you," she started to list off. "That he should've talked to you. That he should've asked you out. That he hates that you think he didn't ever think about you. And yes, those were his exact words. Please come and talk to him."

"I don't know," I stuttered. "I just. . . I find it really hard to believe that he. . . There's no way he thought. . . He couldn't have looked at me. I was a nobody."

"Did you ever think that maybe he thought the world of you but worried you'd think he was some stereotypical jock who couldn't put two and two together?"

"Are those his exact words?"

"Not exactly," she chuckled. "But still, the sooner you get here, the better."

* * * * *

I walked into the bar, instantly making eye contact with Penny. She sent me a soft smile before nodding her head toward the booth in the corner. When I saw the state he was in, I stopped behind the bar and got him a cold water. I took a deep breath before walking toward him. I grabbed his empty beer bottle and replaced it with a water.

"Cutting me off?" He slurred.

"Considering the fact that I'm not working tonight," I said, making him jump, "no. I'm just worried about you."

"Y/N," he stuttered. "What are you. . . You're here. Penny said you. . . Hi."

"Hi," I chuckled. "You mind if I sit?"

"Of course not," he said instantly. He sat up straighter as I sat across from him. I couldn't help but blush as his eyes scanned me.

My heart sank when I glanced at his empty beer bottle collection. "Jake," I sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I'm sorry I made you think I didn't recognize you the moment I looked into your gorgeous eyes. I'm sorry I made you think you weren't good enough for me. I'm sorry I made you think I didn't see you. I swear, Y/N, I did."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" I asked, my voice soft.

"I just. . . I thought. . . " He stuttered. "Because I was a coward." Jake reached across the table and gently grabbed my hands. "I am so sorry," he whispered. "Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?"

"I don't know, Jake," I said honestly. "We were never really close. I mean, we only talked on a few of the awkward occasions where we were the only kids at the work party. And when we were teenagers, we didn't talk at all. You weren't even sending mixed signals."

"I was scared," he said again.

"Jake, no woman believes that a man is or was too scared to talk to her," I sighed. "That's the kind of stuff you hear in teenage romance movies."

"And you don't believe those?" He laughed. "Come on, Y/N. I seem to remember you always had your nose stuck in those romance novels."

My heart sank when he laughed. He looked up at me when I pulled my hands out of his. The look in his eyes changed. "Y/N," he stuttered. "I didn't mean anything. . ."

"Stop before you dig your grave any deeper," I mumbled. I let out a sigh of relief as reinforcements arrived.

"You good, Hangman?" Rooster laughed as he walked over.

"What are you doing here?" Jake asked, his voice still slurring.

"I called him," I said, making him look at me. "Figured you'd need help getting back to base."

I got out of the booth and watched as Rooster pulled Jake to his feet. He wrapped his arm around his waist and started carrying him to the door.

"Thanks, Rooster."

"Anytime, Y/N." He sent me a wink before carrying him outside. I turned around to see Penny smiling softly at me.

"So?" She elongated.

"So, we talked," I shrugged as I walked over to the bar.

"And?"

"Will you stop with that tone?" I sighed. "I'm not sure what's going to happen next. He apologized, and we talked for a little while, but he was too drunk to have a real talk so I had Rooster come get him."

She smiled as she gently patted my arm. "Well, I think it was good for him for you to come. I know it was hard for you, but he needed it."

She walked away, leaving me at the bar with my thoughts.

* * * * *

The next night, I came back to work. Penny didn't bring up Hangman and he didn't come in. Later that night, I took out the trash.

"Need any help?"

I looked up to see Jake standing by the dumpster. "You're back," I said. "Why aren't you inside?"

"Because I wanted to continue our conversation but I wanted to make sure I was sober when I talked to you," he said, walking over to me. He grabbed the garbage bag out of my hand and tossed it into the dumpster without turning away from me.

"Jake," I stuttered.

"I know you don't believe me," he started softly, "but I have been crazy about you since middle school. When we got to high school, I got a different reputation. I was on the basketball team. I was the captain. People made it seem like I was this big important guy on campus. Then I'd see you, studying in the library, and I'd feel like an idiot. I hated it."

"You hated being popular?"

"Of course," he said like it should've been obvious.

"Why?"

"Because you weren't in that group," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. It was then that I realized how close we were to each other. "I had a stereotype," he whispered. "And you, luckily, didn't fit into it. You were too good for that group. You were too good for me. You still are."

"Jake. . ."

He delicately pressed his lips to mine. My mind raced as I slowly started to kiss him back. When we needed air, Jake slowly broke the kiss. He leaned back with a playful smirk on his face.

"That was just how I imagined," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" I asked, just as softly.

"Kissing you," he shrugged. "It was just as perfect as I imagined."

"Have you always been this cheesy?" I laughed as I teasingly pushed him away from me. He chuckled as he instantly rewrapped his arms around me.

"Always," he whispered before kissing me again.

"Jake," I whispered, breaking the kiss.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?"

"What is this?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"What do you mean?" He asked, studying my face.

"This," I said, pointing between us. "We haven't seen each other or spoken to each other in almost ten years. And now?"

"Now, I finally take you on the date I should've taken you on back in high school."

Part 2

#glen powell #glen powell imagines #glen powell fanfic #jake seresin #hangman #top gun maverick

184 notes · View notes

hemmingsleclerc · 9 months ago

Text

One last time┃charles leclerc

summary: What do singers usually do when they are in a complicated love situation? They write songs, but what happens when you write a love song for your best friend who turns out to be Charles?

ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧ ༘✰ ༘ ˚ ˚ ༘ ‧₊˚𖧧 ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹

Y/N was backstage, her heart beating hard and irregularly. The crowd outside screamed with excitement, eager to see her. She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen out of her hair as she tried to calm down by taking deep breaths.

Y/N and Charles had been best friends since they were children. Growing up together in Monaco, they shared dreams, secrets and countless memories. While Y/N once dreamed of becoming a great singer, Charles dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver and they both achieved it, becoming successful people in their respective careers. Despite their busy lives, they always made time for each other no matter what.

Charles had been Y/N's rock during her great and fast rise to fame. He was the one who kept her feets on the ground, reminded her of who she was before the fame, the cameras, and the anxiety. Y/N, in turn, was his person, cheering for him in every victory and comforting him in difficult moments. Fans adored their friendship and often believed there was something more between them. But for Y/N it was a bittersweet reality. She loved Charles deeply, but he only saw her as her best friend or at least that's what she thought.

Recently, Charles was rumored to be dating a new girl, Alex. Y/N was happy for him, really, but every photo of them together felt like a dagger in her heart and a deep part of her was jealous of that girl, ¿What did Alex had that she didn't? Charles used to speak wonderfully about Alex in interviews when he was asked about her, but it was the way he talked about Y/N that made fans believe she was his true and only love. His words were filled with warmth and affection that left the fans wondering if Charles himself realized what he truly felt.

Y/N sighed, putting those thoughts aside. Tonight wasn't about her heartache. It was about her music and her fans. She took a deep breath and took the stage, being greeted with a sea of applause and shouts. She smiled, waved and began her set. The night was intense but she enjoyed every second of it.

As the concert neared its end, Y/N took a moment to speak to the crowd. “The next song is very special to me and it's brand new,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. "It's called 'One Last Time.'" Fans screamed out of excitement, not knowing the meaning of the song and the inspiration behind it.

The music began to play and Y/N closed her eyes, gathering the courage to sing the song without her voice breaking.

''I was a liar, I gave into the fire, I know I shoulda fought it, At least I’m being honest''

The fans quickly took out their phones and turned on their flashlights, making the atmosphere more nostalgic.

''So one last time I need to be the one who takes you home, One more time I promise after that I’ll let you go, Baby I don’t care if you got her in your heart, All I really care is you wake up in my arms, One last time I need to be the one who takes you home''

That night she sang about unrequited love, about wanting one last moment with someone who didn't see her the way she saw him,no matter how much she longed for it.

''And I know, and I know, and I know she gives you everything but boy, I couldn’t give it to ya. And I know, and I know, and I know that you got everything but I got nothing here without you, baby''

When she reached the last verse, tears flowed from her eyes and her voice broke without being able to contain it.

When the song ended, Y/N stood there, tears streaming down her face trying to wipe them away. The silence was deafening and then erupted into a wave of applause mixed with screams from the crowd.

''Thank you LA, I love you, see you next time!'' and with that she left the stage

twitter

instagram

ynln

Liked by taylorswift,charles_leclerc and 3,583,852 others

ynln tonight in LA was 🤯💓✨🌙⚡!!!! I love you all in that crazy crowd tonight, got a little emotional over there but anyways 🤣🤣 -see you soon I love u

username IF U CRY I CRY GIRL

username my baby 😭😭😭

username I love u so much yn

Backstage, Y/N wiped away her tears completely, trying to compose herself. She knew the Internet would be full of speculation. While she was on Twitter that same night after making her Instagram post, she saw fans discussing her set. #OneLastTime and #Y/NCRIED trended, with thousands of tweets expressing concern and love for her. Many fans speculated about the meaning of the song and some even guessed the truth: that it was about Charles.

A tweet caught her attention. It was a video clip of her singing her last lines, with tears streaming down her face, with the caption: “Her heart is broken and we all know why. Charles, my boy, pls open your eyes.”

Y/N's breathing hitched as she read the answers. Fans overwhelmingly supported her and expressed their belief that Charles was the one for her. As she put her phone down, a message notification appeared. It was from charles.

''y/n we need to talk. I saw your concert. Call me when you can pls. – C.”

THE DRAMA!!!🫠

549 notes · View notes

beelinx · 2 months ago

Text

the moment i knew

synopsis: between all the stress of volleyball and final exams, your boyfriend kenma happened to forget a very important day - your birthday. warnings: kenma might be a bit of a bad bf </3 angst w/ (somewhat) of a happy ending. NOT PROOFREAD ! 3.1k words fem!reader

based on this rec <3

it was no secret kenma gets tired easily – everyone can see it, really. he has always had a hard time keeping up with his overly energetic teammates, often opting to miss practice to relax and play videogames.

there were days when kenma was just so exhausted he forgot stuff and even neglected his studies.

well, he couldn’t really do that last one much lately.

final exams were tiring not only for him, but for all the students attending nekoma – and you definitely weren’t an exception.

you spent most of your days studying the hardest you could so as to get good grades and be finally able to relax. at least you had something to look forward to, though.

your birthday landing near finals season wasn’t exactly the nicest thing ever, especially considering most of your friends would be too busy. therefore, you opted for no party; just spending the day chilling with the people closest to you was enough.

as your boyfriend, kenma was one of the first people to be told of your plans for the day. you’d been forcing him to study with you, the idea of him failing because he preferred to play video games rather than studying bothered you immensely.

“i’ve been thinking.” you’d said during one of your breaks, a half-opened bag of chips in your hand.

“about what?” he mumbled in reply, his focus separated between the game he was currently playing and your current conversation.

“well, i know that with finals and all, everyone’s been super busy.” kenma hummed in agreement. you ate a handful of chips before continuing speaking. “and since my birthday falls in between all this madness, i think i’ll just not do anything.”

he grumbled in reply, so you continued, “maybe just you and some of my best friends can come over, and we can watch a movie or something.” you nodded, already set on your idea. “we can eat tons of snacks, too. i want popcorn – and i can get the chips you like.”

kenma nodded absentmindedly, eyes currently trained on his game system. his focus on you was slowly slipping away.

noticing his detached spirit, you quickly added, “you don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to though! i know you feel kinda awkward around my friends, but they like you. i promise!”

he hummed once again in reply and stood up slowly, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek – and that basically seemed to mark the end of the conversation. you’d mentioned the party again in later conversations, all in which he seemed to grow more comfortable with the idea.

around three weeks later, it was finally your birthday.

both your friends and your classmates at school had all congratulated you, some giving you gifts. your best friend even brought out a cake and sang you happy birthday, along with your other closest friends, during break. it was nice, receiving so much love from everyone; but something was wrong.

you hadn’t seen kenma all day.

you looked for him everywhere – all his classes, your lunch spots, and everywhere else. you even asked kuroo about it, but he told you he didn’t know, and that it was likely he just overslept and stayed home.

okay, no matter. just because he didn’t come to school doesn’t mean he forgot you existed or anything… right?

you texted him, of course. he replied to you quickly – he always does. he explained he was just feeling tired and that you shouldn’t worry, but that’s not what you were really concerned about.

throughout that whole conversation, never once did he wish you a happy birthday. it made you feel horrible. him forgetting your birthday broke your heart. i mean, it’s not like he didn’t know when he was. you told him. and, sure, maybe he was just so tired with exams that he forgot. but, your friends hadn’t. hell, even kuroo hadn’t – he wished you a happy birthday when you walked up to him earlier.

so, why did he forget?

your thoughts started becoming too much for you. the feeling that the person you considered most important to you currently forgetting such an important moment for you felt soul-crushing. suddenly, you felt tears start to pool in your eyes. you tried to blink them away – and when that didn’t work and the tears started to spill, you wiped them off your face as quickly as you could and rushed to the ladies room.

you rushed with your head down, trying to avoid anyone in the halls seeing your red face. once you got to the bathroom, you locked yourself inside a stall and started sobbing as quietly as you could.

you were suddenly startled by a soft knock on the door of the stall you were sitting in. “...are you okay?” said a soft, questioning voice – one belonging to your best friend. of course, she’d noticed you breaking down. seems like nothing can get past her.

you sniffled and wiped your nose with toilet paper before speaking. “yeah.”

“i don’t believe that.”

slowly, you stood up and unlocked the door of the stall, walking out to meet her. she looked startled upon seeing your red cheeks and puffy eyes, but her features quickly softened into that of concern and sympathy.

“c’mere,” she said, pulling you in for a big hug. then, she grabbed you by the arm and guided you to the sinks, where she ushered you to wash your face. meanwhile, she quickly sent a text on her phone, right before returning her full attention to you.

she gave you a few seconds of silence, waiting for you to comfortable to speak.

“he forgot my birthday,” you whimpered, tears still running down your cheeks.

“who?” she asked. “kenma?”

you nodded in reply, and you swear smoke was basically coming out of her ears. “oh that jackass,” she hissed. “i’ll kill him next time i see him, i swear. what an idiot. how could he forget your birthday? you’ve talked about it time and time again! seriously, i swear that guy better switch schools before i catch his bum ass and-”

before she could finish her threat, the door busted open, revealing your other two friends – yuki and hana. their faces looked red, too, and their clothes seemed disheveled. either they just sprinted all the way here, or they were up to some interesting activities.

your best friend turned around, face seething with anger, and quickly filled them in on the situation. almost immediately, they had all flocked around you, uttering many words of comfort and just as many insults on kenma’s name.

“well… maybe he’s actually planning a secret surprise party?” hana suggested, trying to get you to cheer up, it seemed.

you shook your head. “no, kenma doesn’t like surprises,” you said. “also – i’ve told him before that i wouldn’t like having a surprise party. and he knows today’s plans since i invited him.”

your best friend scoffed, “if he’s willing to forget your birthday then he’s likely to forget tons of other stuff. anniversaries, holidays, picking up your kids for school…” she trailed off, but her point had been made clear. “you should end it now that you know exactly what kind of partner he is, honestly.”

you bit your lip and scrunched your eyebrows in thought. she made a good point, and you knew there was a high chance she was right. but, kenma hasn’t forgotten any of your other anniversaries. in fact, he’s celebrated them all monthly, without missing any of them. you were close to being one year together with him, and during that time he’s been nothing but considerate of you. it seemed he always knew exactly how you were feeling, and what you needed. he doted on you constantly – complimenting your appearance, buying you gifts with all his money, and even trying his hardest to step out of his comfort zone and show more physical affection. despite how heartbroken you felt right now, it still didn’t feel right to break up with him over this.

“i know what you’re thinking,” your best friend said, taking notice of the look in your eyes. she always seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “‘oh but he’s so nice! he’s never done anything wrong!’” she mocked your voice in a way that almost made you laugh despite the current situation. “but i’m telling you, that’s how it starts.”

“maybe,” you replied, “but i still want to talk to him.”

she sighed dramatically, “alright then, whatever you want.” she paused for a minute, clearly hesitating. “i’m just looking out for you, ‘kay? i do hope this is just a stupid mistake that will never happen again on his part. i really do want things to work out for you; i wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken – especially since i know how much he means to you”

you smiled softly and hugged her again. yuki and hana went on their way, not before wishing you good luck with your talk with kenma. your best friend lingered for a little longer, offering to walk to your next class after the lunch break, which you agreed to.

after school had ended, you said goodbye to your friends once again before heading out. you weren’t going to your house this time. well, you were going sometime, since your party plans with your friends were still on. but given that kenma had forgotten your birthday, you assumed he had likely forgotten about the party, too. therefore, going to his house served two purposes: to remind him of said party, and to have a really serious talk with him.

the walk over to kenma’s house somewhat relaxed you, the familiarity of the trees and buildings bringing a sense of comfort to your stressed-out mind. it was a road you had followed many times before, mostly with kenma, though. a sudden wave of sadness washed over you at the abrupt thought that, if this conversation didn’t go well, it would be the last time you walked through this path to visit his house. the thought made you feel sick to your stomach, the previous sense of comfort banishing almost instantaneously.

suddenly, you found yourself standing at his front door. given the lack of noises and lights, you figured his parents weren’t currently home – they were at work, probably. just as well, it might make this even less awkward for you if his parents weren’t here. because, if things went south and they heard that… yeah, you don’t think you’d ever be able to get over it.

your hesitated before knocking softly at his door. you waited for a few seconds, the sound of your heart thumping erratically in your chest being the only noise your ears could pick up. your heart only stopped once he had opened a door. just for a second though, because then it was back to beating at record speed.

kenma looked nice – he always did, in your opinion. despite his messy hair and wrinkled clothes that suggested he’d spent all day laying down, probably playing a bunch of video games, you thought he looked really good. handsome, even. the corners of your lips almost quirked up at the memory of your friends making fun of you the day you confessed to them your huge crush on him.

“oh.” kenma was clearly startled, not expecting you to be the person knocking at his door. “hey, y/n,” he finally said, smiling softly at the sight of you. it was sweet, but you weren’t here for that. you were here for serious matters.

“can we talk?”

he was taken aback by your sudden tone. it was rare for you to act this way, usually the second he’d opened the door you would have jumped in his arms and started rambling on and on. so, obviously, given your change in attitude, he knew this was going to be a serious talk.

kenma nodded and opened the door more, allowing you to enter. you walked up to his room, the house all too familiar. his bedroom smelled like him – well, obviously it did. a video game was left paused on his desktop, the music coming from it stopping abruptly as he saved his progress and closed the game. he sat down next to you on the bed and stared deeply into your eyes. neither of you said anything; it seemed that he wanted you to take the initiative.

“do you know what today is?” you asked him. maybe you still had a sliver of hope he was just waiting to tell you in person. maybe hana was right and he was throwing a surprise party. maybe.

he paused before speaking cautiously, “last week of finals?”

you scrunched your eyebrows and looked down, “check the date, kenma.”

following your orders, he turned on his phone and checked today’s date. his eyes scanned over his phone for a bit, clearly trying to piece together what you were trying to hint at. it wasn’t your anniversary, not yet. he couldn’t remember any special holidays taking place today. maybe it was another one of those dumb trends based on songs. no, you would’ve told him about that. you would’ve…

wait.

kenma’s head snapped towards yours, eyes wide. “it’s your birthday.” he stated. it wasn’t a question, he knew it was. he didn’t know how he forgot, but now he felt awful – especially after noticing your reaction to his words.

“yeah.” you replied simply, your voice raspy.

he stayed quiet for a second, trying to figure out what to say or what to do. his eyes seemed trouble, no doubt he’s mind was off calculating again.

finally, he opened his mouth to speak.

“i’m… sorry.”

…

“that’s it?” you said, astonished. “is that all you have to say after forgetting my birthday?”

“i don’t know what else i can say,” kenma responded, “i really am sorry. i’ll make it up to you, i-”

“how exactly do you plan to make it up to me, kenma?” you asked him, trying your hardest to keep your voice level and the tears from making an embarrassing return.

“i don’t know yet but,” he took a deep breath, “i will make it up to you, i promise.”

you scoffed and looked away, “so what? am i supposed to take your word for it?”

he swallowed before speaking softly again, “yeah.”

you took in a breath and closed your eyes. “alright then. i’ll see you around,” you said plainly, right before heading over to the door.

“wait!” kenma exclaimed, grabbing your arm before you could get away. he softened his grip once he’d realized he might hurt you. you felt his fingers caress your arm softly, an action he always did to comfort you. “i know you’re upset, it’s my fault. i was tired and i was stupid, but i…” he took a deep breath, “i’m sorry, okay? i’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me.”

hearing kenma so desperate was a rare sight. his eyes looked red, as if he was close to actually starting crying. it wasn’t common for him to show so much emotion. so, in your heart, you knew he meant every word he said. kenma was never the type to lie for his own gain. but… still.

you wanted to forgive him, you really did. still – it didn’t feel right to forgive him so easily, your best friend’s words ringing in your ear. however, it also didn’t feel right to not forgive him. so, you made up your mind on what you’d do.

you kept your gaze averted to the ground, knowing deep down that if you looked at him you’d immediately give in.

“kenma,” you started, “i understand you didn’t mean it, but it still hurt my feelings. so i… well, i’m not breaking up with you.” he seemed to relax more at your words. “but i’m also not forgiving you this easily. you need to make it up to me, and then i guess we’ll see where it goes, ‘kay?”

he nodded, “do you still want me to go to your house?”

you bit your lip, unsure on what to say. “my friends might be a bit… hostile towards you, and it may be better if i had more time to think. so… it might be better if you don’t, actually.” he once again nodded, understanding your point.

“we should do something – tomorrow, maybe. i don’t know,” you continued, “you can think about how you’ll make it up to me during that time, if you want.”

“okay,” he said softly, watching as you walked away, not making an effort to stop you this time. he lowered his gaze and stared intently at his hands. you didn’t forgive him, but you also did? he wasn’t sure what to do to fully make it up to you, but he’d have to try his hardest now. he imagined kuroo would make a comment about how down bad he’d become that he’d actually put so much effort into something that wasn’t a video game.

“kenma?”

his head snapped up at the sound of your sweet voice. you were standing just out of his doorway, looking awkwardly at him.

you hesitated, debating whether or not you should tell him that he does have a chance, that you really wanted to forgive him. but if you did then maybe he wouldn’t try, so…

“nevermind,” you shook your head, “good luck on your game. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

his eyes followed you as you scurried away. he only relaxed once he heard the sound of the front door slamming.

you might have backed down whatever it was you were going to say, but the fact that you lingered for a longer while made him feel as if he did have a shot. for a second he’d worried you would never forgive him. that you – kind, sweet, and understanding you – had finally had enough with him and would leave him all alone.

knowing he had a chance motivated him to try his hardest, already planning what he’d say, what he’d give you, and what else he could do. he kept kicking himself over how your birthday managed to slip his mind. it was such a stupid mistake, and he’d make sure it’d never happen again. that’s not what you deserve. kuroo would, without a doubt, call him an idiot, too.

it didn’t matter, he deserved that.

and you, you deserve the best of the best – which he’ll try his hardest to give you.

even if it takes him years, he’ll never stop trying to make it up to you.

because you’re you, and you’re way too good for him.

he has a lot of work to do for tomorrow, huh?

#i love him so much actually #kenma x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #one shot #angst

163 notes · View notes

urrockstar-xe · 1 year ago

Text

3 teen boys vs 1 pretty girl - j.m x fem!reader

posted feb 10th, 2024 10:24 pm

heres another belated v day post!! :D im working my way up guys look at me go, im running out of valentine themed songs though if you have recs and see this before the 14th pls send them to me!!

summary: John B and Pope have to help out JJ when he's under too much stress over a pretty girl, not proofread, use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.0k

JJ wasn’t one for romantics, never was, never will be. He’s never witnessed real romance outside of TV shows and movies, although now that he has, with his best friend falling in love, JJ still just didn’t quite get it.

Until he met You, of course, because every sweet, enchanting, and cheesy love story has to start with the player meeting the one.

The one that broke down every little wall with a soft smile and pretty eyes. The one who saves everything while simultaneously ruining it all.

At least in JJ’s eyes.

“Dude, just admit you like her” Pope’s words went in one ear and out the other as JJ groaned into the old pillow, dramatically falling onto John B’s couch. “I think he did, just not in a comprehensible way” John B chuckled, shoving JJ’s feet off of his lap.

JJ groaned once more before shifting positions and sitting up on the opposite end of JB. “I don’t know what it is, man. She comes in, introduces herself with a pretty little voice, batting her pretty little eyelashes, smiling a pretty little smile on her pretty little face.” JJ’s voice was laced with irritation, his friends just laughed in response.

“I think JJ thinks Y/n is pretty, Pope.” “No way, really?” Another round of laughter between the two boys made JJ scoff before chuckling a bit as well, he rubbed at his eyes.

JJ’s laughter ended with a sigh, “She’s makin’ me crazy.” John B smiled at his friend, nudging his shoulder. “They have that effect huh?” JB remarked, sharing a knowing look with Pope before Pope pulled JJ up off the couch.

“What am I gonna do? I mean, I gotta really wow this girl, man I mean, she’s perfect” JJ gushed as he stared back at his friend who merely smiled back and shook his head. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, why don’t you go work that out with John B and I’ll continue studying.” Pope proposed the idea as JB stood up, patting JJ on the back before nearly dragging him out of the chateau by the back of his hoodie.

“C’mon, we’re gonna make sure you get your girl by tomorrow night”

JJ and John B loaded up into the Twinkie, heading straight for the closest convenience store. JB distracted his lovelorn friend with loud music that the two teenage boys happily and obnoxiously sang along to. Once they finally pulled up to the store and went inside, John B led JJ to the aisle filled with red and pink colored cardboard, and heart-shaped candies.

“Dude, I don’t even know what kind of candy she likes,” JJ sighed, both boys scanning the wall of options. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.” John B mumbled.

“It’s all just one big guessing game-” John B got cut off by the store clerk noticing them.

“Maybank, I better not catch you stealin’ nothin'.” His gruffy booming voice caught their attention, heads turning towards the sound in sync. “Course not, Mr. Wade!” JJ waved, a small smile on his lips as the clerk shook his head and went back to his initial goal, leaving them alone once more.

JJ watched as John B grabbed one of the blue baskets and started throwing random candy boxes into it. “What are you doing?” JJ furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s gotta like at least one of these, let’s just buy it all” John B shrugged, handing the basket to JJ who turned his attention towards the box full of small stuffed animals.

JJ picked up a small cat before looking at the little dog holding a love heart. “Do you think she’s more of a dog person or a cat person?” “Which one do you want her to be?”

JJ abandoned the cat and threw the dog in the basket, just as John B grabbed a pink bag covered in white hearts and threw it on top of their Valentine's treasures.

“This should be enough right?” John B asked, earning a slightly concerned look from JJ.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the professional here? I’m just the student!” JJ followed him to the counter and helped throw everything in front of Mr. Wade.

“JJ, I don’t think people see either of us and think of the word professional.” and of course, he couldn’t argue with that.

JJ was left to his own devices the rest of the night, John B had a date with Sarah.

He did his best at setting up the bag of goodies, before deciding it was good enough because nothing would be as perfect as you no matter how much he tried.

Finally, Wednesday had come and right around the time you made it outside of your school building you were met with the sight of the Twinkie, eyes watching it as you laughed at something one of your friends said. You said your goodbyes before making your way to the old van just as JJ Maybank came out of the driver’s side and leaned on the passenger’s door.

“Thought you dropped out, JJ.” You smiled at the blond, who happily mirrored you as he approached him. “You know, gotta come back every once in a while, see how the place is holdin’ up without me.” He shrugged, earning a chuckle from you.

JJ cleared his throat, standing up straight. “I wanted to surprise you. Ask you to be my Valentine.” Your smile got softer, that sweet look on your face almost making JJ chicken out but now he was too deep in.

“So ask me,” you said softly, after a moment of waiting for him to continue. JJ laughed, shaking his head. “Right, yeah, sorry. Will you be my Valentine, pretty lady?” His voice was quieter than you were used to hearing, you couldn’t help but cover your face as you felt heat spread across your cheeks. JJ chuckled at your reaction before leaning forward just enough to remove your hands from your face.

“Whadya say?” You smiled at him as he held onto your hands, whispering now that you were so close. “I’ll be your Valentine any day of the week, J.” He smiled back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before letting go of your hands and opening the passenger door, revealing the very same bag that was currently overflowing.

“Awh, babe.” You smiled at the sight, picking up the little dog plush.

“Hope you’re a dog person,” He said, grabbing the bag’s handles so you could get in the van.

“And that you have a severe sweet tooth.”

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #Spotify

869 notes · View notes

rae-writes · 5 months ago

Text

⊹ Candles ⊹

sprinting back for my baby's birthday, my precious, lovely, sweet avatar of greed, love of my life, Mammon my beloved || 0.3k

Black, gold, and white balloons were blown up and tied off on varying furniture, as well as thrown out onto the floor, accompanied by strewn out golden glitter.

The party was loud, and shiny, and enjoyably messy— and it was Mammon.

Because if the tenth day of September was anything, it was his day. His birthday was one of his favorite days of the year because he could be greedy, hog the spotlight, and no one could call him scummy for it.

The led lights turn a yellowish-white as everyone moves the second born to the front and center, crowding around him as his cake is brought out.

It was big— grandeur— matte black with liquid gold dripping off. Sparkly was an understatement, and on the top, were six white candles that spelled out his name.

But what was usually his time to boast and holler was…hushed now. His sapphire hues glanced your way with a hand held out.

“Are you excited for your birthday, Mams?” You murmured, scratching his scalp as you both laid out on your bed.

“‘M always excited for Mammon Day…” His response was oddly quiet, nuzzling into your stomach.

“..but..?”

“Will ya…blow out my candles with me, Mc?” Mammon tightened his arms around your waist, peeking up from underneath his lashes. A faint pink hue was coated across his cheeks.

“Ever since ya came into my life, you’ve been m’wish. Ev’ry year. So I— I want..I want y’to blow them out with me this time..’s only right, y’know? That way, it’ll be like…you’re granting my wish personally..”

You smiled, eyes no doubt reflecting soft infatuation. Your feet carried you under the spotlight with Mammon and your fingers laced with his.

As everyone sang ‘Happy Birthday’, you never broke his gaze, keeping your eyes locked with his. At the end of the song, you lovingly whispered into his ear, “Happy birthday to you~”

His blush was blistering, but for once, he didn’t care. The smile across his face was lovesick and giddy and he was so proud that you were next to him.

You both took a breath…and gently blew out his candles.

“Did you wish for me again?”

“Ya know I did, baby…y’r all I want.”

And your heart has been, was, and will always be placed delicately in his hands, wrapped in a golden bow. All for him.

#om x reader #obey me x reader #obey me drabbles #om drabbles #om mammon #mammon x reader

289 notes · View notes

mlqueen89 · 3 months ago

Text

One | Flyboy

so cross your thoughtless heart she's the albatross she is here to destroy you

The Albatross by Taylor Swift | TTPD |

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x f!oc (top gun: maverick)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

w a r n i n gs : smut, mentions of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, multiple orgasms, one-night stand, jake being a cocky, self-assured man who leaves no crumbs after he eats.

word count: 8,997

summary: in affairs of the heart, eleanor rigby has one strict rule: no pilots. Less than 24 hours back in the US, she breaks it.

A/N: this whole entire fic literally started with the (full) name of eleanor. i also have a radar tech in the family, so that helped a bit. snowball met a steep hill and picked up speed. i've planned for ~10(ish) chapters, but it may be open ended with a few more random scenes/chapters here and there.

proud to say that this one was beta read by my bestest friend, so you know she was mean to me helpful.

also! i saw the asks - super excited to dive into those, tysm. ♡♡

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ next chapter ❥

Eleanor Rigby hadn’t wanted to go to the Halloween party, not really.

The boxes stacked in the spare bedroom of her friend Nicole’s four-bedroom house desperately needed unpacking and the 10-hour time change from Western Turkey to San Diego was kicking her ass. She’d done about as much unpacking as was required to find a suitable outfit for her new job in the morning, folded them carefully and set them out.

When Nicole had invited her out, Ellie had fallen asleep, mid-unpack of the rest of her belongings, waking only when the bubbly blonde burst into the room and jumped onto the foot of her bed, dressed in all her glory as Barbie.

“Ellie does San Diego! Let’s goooo.” Nicole tugged at Ellie’s arm as Yanique flicked on the light in the ensuite, reapplying a purple-ish shade of lipstick as Ellie blinked against the sudden light in her dim room, her arm jiggled aggressively by an enthusiastic Nic.

Bleary-eyed, her voice just a croak, Ellie politely declined, muttering something about starting her new job early the next morning and making a good impression. Nicole eventually relented with a huff and left, a little less than impressed, with their other two roommates, Yan and Sophie, in tow.

Within 45 minutes, her phone buzzing against the hardtop of the nightstand, the voice messages started flowing in.

Nicole’s first voice message was short, 12 seconds. Ellie’s thumb jabbed at the play button as she gathered the dishes from her girl dinner of toast and coffee and used her elbow to push down on the paddle door handle, making her way to the shared kitchen.

Ellieeeeeeee... Eleanor Rigbyyyyyy ....

There was a dull thud of base in the background somewhere, behind the long, pronounced whine of Nicole’s voice as she sang the beginning of her namesake Beatles song, horribly off-key.

Ellie, please you have to come out. It’s Halloween, the most magical night of the year! Just make an appearance. An hour, tops. Please?

Ellie moved through the kitchen, rinsing out her cup and placing it on the drying rack. Her head was in the fridge, scrounging around for an apple in the crisper drawer, when the next three messages came in.

Please, pretty, pretty, pretty, please with like, a million cherries on top, even though I know you hate cherries.

Bradley’s not here yet, Yan already left with a weird guy in a Frankenstein costume—do we know what kink that is? That has to be a kink, right? I’m not kink shaming though, I promise. He was just like... weird. Do you think I should get her to drop her location? Like, just in case?

Soph is requesting Chappell Roan for the like, twentieth time, and I think she’s going to start a fight with the DJ about being an anti-feminist incel if he doesn’t play “HOT TO GO!” again... did you know that she broke up with that witch, wiccan girl from Hinge? HingeWitch? The one that had that study of cheeses in her bio, that blue cheese description—Ellie thought she heard Nicole pause to gag—anyway, I think she thinks she got cursed or something...

The voice message cut off even though Nicole’s tone suggested that she wasn’t finished talking about Sophie’s ex.

There was a garbled message in between the last one and the next, one in which Ellie could hear Nicole begging the DJ not to leave and promising to talk to her friend about the excessive requests for Chappell Roan.

Don’t abandon me in my time of need, El. Desperate need. Like, jumping off of very tall somethings desperacy.

Ellie smirked. Nicole, her very best friend in the whole wide world, quite possibly the vast universe, was, in fact, very dramatic.

Quickly, before another voice message could roll in, Ellie hit record on her own before she bit into her apple, wrestling the third box out of a teetering tower of boxes in the corner of her room and hit send.

Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.

The response pinged back quickly.

Ohmygodohmygod, thank you! Remember, the theme is Icons through the Ages!

Wear something sexy. Iconic sexy. Iconically sexy? But not Hawaiian Barbie. Or whatever Soph is dressed up as. I want to say is either Frida Kahalo or Mama Imelda from Coco. Basically, avoid anything with a Mexican gothic vibe.

Once Ellie had managed to pull her vintage leather aviator jacket from the box, the one she’d mislabeled in her hurry to pack everything up, the rest of her costume came together fairly quickly.

When she found the venue, a small bar off a main street, she still had around 30 seconds to spare on her twenty-minute promise to Nic.

Eleanor had always known that Nicole was popular, but the Halloween party, a party which Nicole had demurely announced was just “a small thing” with “a few work friends” was in actuality, not quite a small thing.

Weaving her way through the crowd, Ellie scanned the room, trying to pick out the hot pink of Nicole’s costume or the flower crown Sophie had carefully woven into her voluminous red hair.

Squeezing her way through a group of Spanish Conquistadors (notably with less armour and more exposed skin than was historically accurate) Ellie paused short of the small DJ booth in the corner of the bar, her eyes still scanning for Nicole when her eyes fell on him.

Sandy blonde hair peeked out from under a neon sweatband, shoulders stocky and solid in a sleeveless denim vest over a t-shirt that read, No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem. The white sneakers, short shorts, and that unmistakable lanky sway to the beat of Footloose pumping through the venue that could only belong to one person.

It was Ken.

Specifically, the Ken to Nicole’s Barbie.

“Bradshaw?” Ellie called, squinting.

Ken spun around with the beat of the song, a lopsided grin already on his lips as he faced her. “Holy shit, Rigsy?” Swiftly, Bradley Bradshaw was over to her, scooping Ellie off her feet, squeezing her tightly in a bear hug, shaking her frame slightly with a growl, before she groaned and he set her back down, feather light.

“You didn’t say you were back stateside.”

“My flight got in last night.” Ellie shrugged, straightening her jacket and adjusting the thin white scarf around her neck, “Just wanted to surprise you, Rooster.”

“Well, damn it,” Bradley nodded in approval, all dimples and easy charm, “colour me surprised.”

It was no wonder Nicole had fallen for him, head over Barbie heels. Even Ellie liked him, and that was saying something.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was less pilot and more golden retriever, a good heart wrapped in an all-American charm with an easygoing, dopey grin that made people feel like they’d known him for years. He was the kind of guy who’d lend you his jacket and forget to ask for it back or show up at your door with takeout and Sleepless in Seattle cued up on a streaming service he had to pay an arm and a leg for, because he “just had a feeling.” The Batman who responded to the Emotional Needs and Mercury Retrograde Bat Signal™. The hero the people deserved. Ellie was pretty sure she caught him watching videos of a baby hippo getting into shenanigans at a zoo in China on loop for 14 minutes while Nic tried to pick an episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians that would really pique his interest and get him invested enough to make it his “new Roman Empire”.

Ellie remembered the night Nicole and Bradley had met with perfect clarity.

Nicole had been in the middle of swearing off all men for the foreseeable future, her voice thick with the brand of determination that came with a prosecco-fueled resolution. Ellie had watched as her friend declare a new era of singlehood and Taylor Swift before turning to Sophie, slurring out a request for “gorgeous, single women willing to humor an experimental phase.”

It wasn’t two minutes later that Nicole lurched forward, losing all her resolve—and her prosecco—in a sudden, graceless bout with the sidewalk.

As Ellie rubbed her back and tried to get her standing, a group of pilots had come down the street—Bradley Bradshaw among them, flanked by two others they’d later get to know as Phoenix and Bob. Bradley had been the one to stop, eyes quickly scanning the situation, assessing and then moving in with expert precision. He’d peeled off his jacket immediately, holding it out to Nicole as she moaned her embarrassment and weakly gestured at the puddle of what had once been bubbly and appetizers a few feet away.

“It’s okay,” Bradley had told her, voice soft and reassuring. “If you throw up on this one, I’ll just get another jacket tomorrow.” When she’d protested, he’d grinned, shrugging in that effortless way of his. “Honestly, they just give these jackets to anyone,” he’d joked, as if he hadn’t spent years earning the right to wear it and every single patch stitched on it.

Nicole had blinked up at him, mascara smudged, his jacket draped over her shoulders, looking at him like he was some knight out of one of the many cheesy rom-coms she loved. And for once, Ellie hadn’t blamed her for it.

That night, Bradley Bradshaw had seen her best friend at her worst and treated her like she was worth sticking around for.

And that was Rooster in a nutshell—a steady warmth that lingered long after he was gone, the guy who would do just about anything to make Nicole smile, including, but not limited to, dressing up in the ridiculous costume he was currently wearing.

Nudging her, Rooster grinned. “So,” he drawled, “does this mean I finally get the best friend stamp of approval?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning a reluctant sigh, but she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d approved of him long before now. “Don’t let it go to your head, Bradshaw.”

“Too late,” he laughed, mimicking his head expanding dramatically before throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Already there.”

Rooster grabbed his drink off the small table bordering the dance floor, draining the glass. “Love the costume, by the way," he sucked his teeth against the burn of the whiskey he’d downed, “I’ve not seen one Amelia Earhart here.” He craned his neck, searching in the dimly lit room.

“You think the goggles are too much?” Ellie adjusted the strap on her head, pushing a loose strand of hair up underneath the band. “I think they might be cutting off circulation to my brain..."

“An aviator is only as good as their headgear,” Rooster tapped the top of his head. “You’re just missing your call sign.”

“Guess you must not be a very good one, then.” Ellie smirked, snapping the neon sweatband on his head with a laugh.

Rooster levelled her with a narrowed gaze, but there was no heat behind it, “one day someone is going to love that you’re kind of mean.”

“Sorry, Bradshaw—” Ellie pointed at her ears, shrugging as she stepped back, a smirk on her lips, retreating into the crowd “—I can’t hear you.”

Rooster flipped her off, in an affectionate way, she assumed. “Sit and circumnavigate, Rigby.”

With another laugh, Ellie turned and set her sights on the bar, squeezing her way through a grouping of zombies and a Michonne, who stood shoulder to shoulder with a Negan, complete with Lucille, tugging her scarf out of Zombie #1s grasp on the other side.

The last tug, sharp and forceful, sent her stumbling over the tattered chiffon hem of the La Llorona’s dress at her back.

Ellie braced for the rough landing as she attempted and failed to steady herself. She felt the fall in her stomach, the way it pitched as gravity pulled her down. She figured it served her right, the swift intervention of karma coming for her after she’d insulted its favourite pilot — Rooster was going to have an absolute field day over this.

Ellie had been so lost in the idea of bracing for the impact of the ground, hard and sticky, she didn’t notice that she hadn’t fallen until she looked up and saw a lopsided smirk and green eyes, looking down at her. The realization there were hands hooked under her arms, holding her up came quickly after.

“And here I was thinkin’ that Amelia Earhart had a reputation of staying upright.” The man was all smirk, dimples ghosting his cheeks, as Ellie blinked up at him, processing the situation.

“Guess I’m overdue for a refresher course on emergency landings.” Ellie cleared her throat, righting herself with his help before she tugged her bomber jacket back into place.

When she glanced up from her improved angle, Ellie could see just how striking he was—sharp jaw, confident eyes, and a natural swagger that suggested he knew it, suggested he knew women sized him up in more ways than one.

“What are you drinking, Amelia?”

“Nothing, yet.”

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”

The music pumped anew, the DJ spinning a Thriller remix, as she approached the bar, the presence of the man at her back as she weaved her way through the crowd. She could feel the hover of his hand at her lower back, ready to catch her if she took another tumble. She hadn’t been expecting much from the night—just a few drinks, maybe some small talk with Nic, a short discussion with Sophie on Chappell Roan’s representation of duality in the midwestern identity to prove that she’d come out and spent the appropriate amount of time there. But as she took the beer the bartender slid her way and the man leaned against the bar next to her, she couldn’t help but smile. She definitely hadn’t been expecting this.

“Let me guess,” Ellie’s eyes scanned his costume then, taking a moment to take stock. Carefully, she scanned the skull patch, dagger in its teeth, VFA-151 stitched in below, the chevrons, patches, carefully piecing the images and small details of his costume together before she replied, eyebrow raised, “you’re a pilot—” she paused to sip her drink, her eyes falling on the patch on his bicep, “—Navy.”

A grin pulled up the corner of his mouth as he gave her a slow once-over, a scan he didn’t bother to hide, before he leaned casually against the bar beside her. “Hangman,” he said with a smirk, and Ellie’s eyes dipped to the patch on his chest, the golden wings stitched above the call sign. “Best pilot you’ll ever meet.”

She tilted her head, gaze sliding from his call sign back up to his face. “Best pilot, huh?” She gave him a once-over that was part skepticism, part intrigue. “You Navy guys really know how to sell it.”

Ellie leaned into the bit hard. Tonight, she was Amelia, and he was Hangman, the name stitched into hundreds, if not thousands, of storebought costumes. If she were Navy, she might have been insulted.

If he heard the skepticism in her tone, he ignored it and chuckled, not breaking eye contact as he matched her smirk. “Only because it’s true. Besides,” he said, letting his voice drop lower, “don’t have to sell anything when you’ve got it all.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, meeting his challenge head-on. “Big words for someone who still hasn’t proven a thing.”

“Oh, don’t worry, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning in just close enough to lower his voice to a rumble, “I’m very good at proving myself.”

She laughed softly, a glint in her eyes as she set her drink down. “Okay then, why don’t you start with this—” Ellie leaned in, her finger tapped lightly on the golden wings over his heart, her touch lingering. “Explain why they call you Hangman.”

She waited, waited to see if he’d squirm, held his gaze and paused for the story that was sure to come. Some feeble attempt at role playing for an unpracticed character, just a call sign with no real bite, no real story.

He smirked, clearly used to that question but still savoring her attention. “I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” he teased, straightening, “after all, you strike me as a curious type. And I’d hate to ruin the mystery.”

Ellie chuckled, leaning back as she looked him over. That was his game, wasn’t it? A tennis match, a steady volley and lob. Two could play at that game. “Maybe I’ll get bored before I do.” Ellie added a shrug to punctuate her words for effect.

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” His voice held a hint of challenge, his gaze lingering, his grin lazy but sharp. He straightened up, hand resting on the bar, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“Guess we’ll see,” she murmured, lifting her drink to her lips, her gaze unwavering as she took another sip. She looked away for just a second, but not before she caught his confident grin widening.

“Believe me,” he said with that maddening confidence of his as he leaned in, so close that his voice was low, the heat of his words warming the shell of her ear, “I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you entertained.”

Ellie had barely unlocked the front door to Nicole’s place when he was on her, his hands on her hips as he pressed her into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He kissed her like a man starved, his fingers reaching up to tangle in her hair at the base of her neck, anchoring her to him.

This was the culmination of the barely veiled innuendos, the heavy-handed flirting that had gone on all evening.

When he’d slipped out of the bar and onto the street with her, Ellie knew what would happen. He knew what would happen. She could tell in the way his eyes raked over her, all want, pupils blown wide. He wanted her and she wasn’t shy to admit, maybe not out loud, but to herself, that she wanted him too.

“Maybe we should—” Ellie’s breath was uneven, her mouth missing his the moment they broke apart, just long enough for her to tip her head in the direction of the stairs.

“Yeah—” his reply was equally breathy, his eyes on her lips even as she spoke, his tongue jutting out to whet his lips. A thrill shot through her, one that dipped low and pulsed between her legs.

She was wet already, she could feel the slickness of herself, the material of her panties weighted with the evidence. In response, in a swift motion, he picked her up and Ellie instinctively spread her legs so that they framed his waist, her ankles locking at his low back. Ellie didn’t need to be told, she gripped him with her thighs, squeezing tight as he chuckled.

“Good girl,” he smirked against her mouth before he kissed her again, deeply, his tongue pushing inside to taste hers.

When they reached the top of the stairs, she broke from him only just long enough to give directions to her room in as few words as humanly possible, reaching out to grip the door frame of her room as he carried her down the hall and almost walked past it.

Shutting the door behind them with his foot, he wasted no time in pressing her up against the wall. His fingers worried the buttons, slipped each from their place, starting from the bottom up as Ellie took her bomber jacket off, tossing it and the goggles to the floor before she joined him in working on the buttons from top down.

“So many—” his breath came out with an edge of frustration and Ellie gave up on her buttons to tug the zip of his flight suit down to where her hips met his waist.

“Just rip it,” Ellie huffed out, voice unsteady as his lips dipped to her neck, teeth grazing the spot where her collarbone met the base of her throat. One less thing between his mouth and her skin warranted the sacrifice of a shirt.

He didn’t waste time, didn’t question and the sudden coolness on her skin and the sound of the buttons hitting the floor, scattered, had her grinning. She liked a man who followed orders. “You owe me a new shirt, Captain.”

“Lieutenant,” his voice rumbled into her skin, making quick work of her bra next. By the time it hit the floor to join the other articles of clothing, his hands were on her breasts, teasing her nipples, every pinch and pressure, every touch of his lips, every nip of his teeth sending surges of raw pleasure pulsing down.

Ellie hated the way he ripped the sounds, raw, unabashed, desperate, from her. Hated how she’d folded under his smooth charm — she could have stopped it, could have said good night and left him at her door. Touched herself, alone, in bed, thinking about the way he’d been so eager to prove he was the best, picture how his touch would have felt, how he would have filled her as she coaxed herself over the edge and leave it at that.

But she hadn’t, she’d wanted him —she’d own that. She wanted him to fuck her stupid. She could feel him, the hard outline of his cock pressing against her as he held her to him.

“Easy, darlin’,” he chuckled lowly, rough around the edges as she shifted, reaching to touch him over top the Nomex. “We haven’t even started yet….”

He was across to her bed in a few easy strides, carefully setting her back so that she sank into the pillows, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned over her, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His gaze held hers, steady and unhurried, as he let his fingers trace lightly over the edge of her jaw, his index finger coming to rest under her chin, his thumb smudging her bottom lip.

As his thumb traced her lip, smudging her lipstick, she caught his hand and pulled his index finger into her mouth, closing her lips around the digit, tongue tracing purposeful patterns as she slowly dragged it out. Her eyes never leaving his as he huffed out a heavy breath, a thrill running through her.

“You should know that I have a rule, sweetheart.” He murmured, leaning over her so that his arms framed her, so close that his nose brushed hers as he spoke, his voice low, deep, edged by the hard edge of desire. “Ladies first.”

Her pants were off quickly, leaving her in nothing but a whisp of material separating her from the man who wanted all of her. She heard the jingle of dog tags as he lifted the white shirt that had been under the flight suit over his head and abandoned it.

Before she could sit up to see him, stripped down to his boxers, he was back on her, lower.

Softly, he kissed her inner ankle, the next kiss trailing higher, her calf, another on the inside of her knee and the next, on her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him, she was sure he could feel the heat radiating from her core.

She was a wreck, a hot, wet wreck and she was barely holding onto the part of her that was ready to beg him to touch her. The part of her that wanted all of him in a way that was driving her mad every moment he wasn’t touching her.

“What do you want?” His voice was steady, measured as he touched her over her panties, his rough fingers brushing over the dampened spot of the material. The sound that left his lips, a quiet hissing intake of breath, told her he knew what he was doing to her, knew that he had her right where he wanted her.

In response, Ellie writhed, sensitive to even the smallest brush and despite herself, a small moan left her lips, one she couldn’t have contained even if she had wanted to. What was the question again?

He moved up from the altar between her legs, nipping a sensitive spot on her side where her ribs ended before he remedied it with a soft kiss, blazing a trail up her body with his mouth. Carefully, holding himself just above her, he bent to tease her nipple with his tongue, whetting the already hard peak, before he closed his lips around one and then moved to the other.

Ellie was barely holding on, her vision edged with haze as he looked up to finally locked eyes with her. If he kept it up at this rate, he wouldn’t even need to fuck her.

“What do you want?” His voice was husky, his body propped up over her as Ellie tried to order her thoughts, process them into coherent words. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”

She could feel him against her thigh, hard, ready, the thin material of his boxers the only thing between her and all of him. There was some small satisfaction, a thrill that swept through her and coiled low in her stomach, that there was a part of him he was barely controlling a part of him that wanted to be inside of her now. The wet spot of precum on his underwear ghosted against her bare skin and she swore she could feel him twitch.

Hangman, she’d asked at the bar, explain why they call you Hangman.

Mystery solved.

“I want—” she started, barely a whisper as he kissed the corner of her mouth, kissed her jawline, his fingers slipping under the top waistband of her panties as he continued to nip at the most sensitive spots on her neck.

“You want…?” He prompted, waiting, even as his hand slipped lower, slow, calculated.

“I want you to—,” Ellie lifted her head and muffled her moan into his shoulder as his fingers found her slick clit, massaging lazy circles, steady, calm, “Mmm.” Her nails bit into the muscles on his back as her head fell to the pillow, arching into his touch.

“Guess, it is then.” He murmured, that infuriating smirk in his words as he pulled his hand away from her slick, stopping the steady rhythm she’d just gotten used to. She whined after the loss, but he didn’t give her much time to mourn before he was down between her legs again, his fingers dragging her panties off.

Swiftly, he pulled her to the bottom of the bed, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Ellie gasped, her hips bucking up into his tongue as he swept it up through her folds. Calmly, as she inched closer to unravelling completely, ascending the slope at dizzying speed, he gripped her hips, controlling her movements as she pressed down against his mouth.

She could feel the pressure building with every expert movement of his tongue over her, through her. Reaching down, she combed her fingers through his hair, gripped into it and tugged him over, directing him to her need.

“Oh, god….” Ellie whined, the words just barely words as they dissolved into a moan, her free hand gripping the mess of sheets underneath her.

“Hangman’s fine, gorgeous.” The response was quick, cocky. The response of a man who knew exactly what he was doing to her and taking his time.

“Wait,” Ellie’s hips chased after his mouth, a groan on her lips as she threw her arm across her eyes. “Don’t stop—.”

He was torturing her now, bringing her just to the edge and then allowing her to come down just enough to bring her back up again. He was fucking good and he knew it. It was going to drive her insane with want.

“You have to say please, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath on her inner thigh almost too much, carefully, he touched her with his thumb, a light pressure as he teased her. Ellie could hear the smirk in his words.

Words. What were words? Ellie's mind was short-circuiting. Short-circuited, past tense. Already gone. Wires crossed— leads jammed in the wrong place, signals crossed.

She hadn’t wanted to fall apart under his touch so easily, she'd wanted to seem like she wasn’t desperate for him, but his touch was a warm fire on a cold night.

“Ple—fuck,” Ellie moaned, her words dragged out, long and torturous as she felt his thick fingers slip inside her, slow and deliberate.

She didn’t even know his real name, wasn’t even sure if she could manage to say it even if she did. He was undoing her carefully, piece by piece, sensation by sensation, she was malleable under his touch.

“What was that darlin’?”

Ellie might have been embarrassed at the squelch of her wetness as his fingers stroked in and out, excruciatingly measured, but she couldn't think about anything. Just the way he filled her while still leaving her wanting more, more, more.

“Please—” her nerves crackled like livewires as she moaned, her hips moving against his fingers with each stroke, her movements almost involuntary, the wild need in her chasing the high, just out of reach.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” his voice was husky, lower now. He gripped her hip, holding her, steadying her rhythm before he added another thick finger, three deep in her now, his thumb moving in circles around her swollen clit.

“Jesus,” he breathed, taking a moment before his mouth dipped to her hot center, alternating between sucking and the slow caressing tip of his tongue, creating just the right amount of excruciatingly perfect sensation, his fingers stroking and curling inside her. “You're so tight, sweetheart. Might not—”

He might not fit. She finished his words in her mind, a secondary thought, one that made her mad with want.

She breathed through the sensations, jolted and writhed as his pumping digits searched for the spot that made her see stars. She felt drunk, high, soaring, just on the edge of release, her muscles aching to reach the peak before she tumbled over, completely undone.

When she finally broke, her back arching off the mattress, her hips grinding harder into his hand, she moaned into her forearm to muffle the sound.

That air of self–assured cockiness he carried himself with at the bar, the swagger. It was all well–earned, she was coming to realize. Pun intended.

“You know what they call a pilot with at least five confirmed air-to-air kills?” His voice was low as he drew his fingers from her, slipping his arm behind her still arched back as he leaned over her, his heavy cock pressing up against her throbbing pussy through his boxers, hard, ready.

She was hyper aware that she still wanted him, inside her, filling her, spreading her to her limit in a unique mix of pleasure and pain.

“Hmm—Ace?” Ellie’s mind was still hazy, vignetted around the edges as her heart hammered against her ribs.

It happened in a moment, a quick change of position, as he lifted and turned, positioning himself under her so she straddled him. Smooth and calculated, precise and fast, an expert maneuver.

Ellie could feel her bare wetness against him, her hands bracing on his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath her touch. In the dim light of the room, she could see the glint of his dog tags hanging off to the side, a small detail of his costume she wished she might have looked at before, in the bar.

“Ace.” He smirked up at her before he shifted her hips up and he pulled her down over his face.

Ellie gripped the steering wheel tightly, the worn pleather creaking under her hands as she leaned forward and angled the rearview mirror sharply so she could get a better look.

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed, her fingers hovering just over the purple mark on her neck, just above her collarbone. How she hadn’t noticed it in the mirror this morning, she wasn’t quite sure.

“Seriously? A fucking hickey?” She was already digging around in her purse as she huffed, her fingers blindly searching for the concealer she knew wouldn’t be there because she could see it in her mind’s eye, sitting on the edge of the porcelain countertop in her ensuite bathroom. “Are we fourteen?”

This was definitely topping her list of things she didn’t need her first day on a new job site, especially not Miramar.

When Ellie had woken up that morning, the sun barely peeking through the half-shut blinds, she wasn’t surprised that she was alone in bed. There was no note, no forgotten sock, no evidence, save for the dull ache between her legs and a tender, purple love bite on the inside of her right thigh as evidence that last night had even happened.

That was what one-night stands were though, right? One night.

Even under the hot stream of water from the shower in the ensuite though, Ellie closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back, only shaking herself from the thought of him when the alarm from her phone buzzed it right off the counter.

Groaning, Ellie blew out a noisy breath, abandoning the purse search when she found nothing other than a stray mint.

Guess today was going to be a hair down kind of day.

It wasn't the look she normally felt comfortable with on military bases with all the formality of rank and protocol, but she was a civilian contractor, it was unlikely anyone would notice. Hair down was better than the talk that might follow her around if anyone saw the mark on her neck.

Sighing, Ellie pulled the pins out of the bun she’d spent her morning perfecting and allowed her hair, dark, still damp and wavy from the shower, to fall around her shoulders. Carefully, she pulled the tresses forward, over the rouged mark on her skin, peeking just out from under the collar of her white blouse.

It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do in a pinch. She made a quick mental note to head off base on break to stop at a CVS to grab some concealer before she twisted the rearview mirror back into place.

Tony Cudmore, the Crew Staffing Supervisor she had been coordinating with solely through email before now, was already waiting for her just outside the gates, his eyes on his wristwatch as Ellie approached. “Rigby, glad to have you on board. Heard we snagged you from your work on base in Turkey.”

“Yeah, well. When Uncle Sam comes knocking, right?” Ellie snagged a tress of her hair as it lifted from her shoulder in the wind, carefully patting it back into place.

“Don’t I know it,” Tony chuckled, his white, push broom straight moustache blustering as he waved at the officer stationed in the booth by the gate before he scanned his security pass. “How’s your old man?”

“Ah, you know the type, Tony.”

Ellie had perfected the art of sidestepping questions about her dad and Tony didn’t push further, seemingly content with the non-answer.

As they reached the security clearance office, Tony slid a few documents under the glass and Ellie stepped up in front of a camera, the flash going off quickly before she had a chance to adjust.

Whoever thought DMV photos were bad had clearly never had their photo taken by a Naval Officer a few months away from retirement.

“Given name?” The man behind the glass murmured, so low that Ellie had to strain and lean toward the hole at the bottom of the glass to hear him.

“Eleanor.”

“We have a lot of work here that could really benefit from your expertise. The boys are flying Super Hornets nowadays, so the tech is good, but the improvements from your research could really give ‛em the edge.” Tony continued at her side, distractedly flipping through emails on his phone as he waited, “Now of course, those Super Hornets are far and away from the Tomcats your dad would have been flying in his heyday here, let me tell you….”

“Surname?”

“Neven - but you can just put Rigby.” It was Ellie’s turn to murmur now, edging closer to the slot in the glass, her voice just loud enough to be heard over Tony’s absent chatter behind her.

The Security Officer paused, fanning out Ellie’s passport and glancing up at her for a moment, eyebrow raised before he punched something into the computer. She offered him a tight smile a beat too late.

When the man slid her the newly printed security pass, Ellie’s eyes scanned for any sign of the hickey and was thankful that, though her hair looked like a bird's nest and her eyes were half-closed in mid-blink, at least the hickey wasn’t memorialized in her security pass.

As they stepped out of the security office, Tony untucked a manila folio from under his arm and passed it to Ellie as they walked. “I’ll take you around. Give you your bearings. You’ll be working with the tower crew lots. Some good people up there.”

They were out of the outbuilding now, Ellie’s heels clicking across the tarmac, past the line of F18s lined up on the hardtop and gleaming in the early morning California sun.

“The ground crew might ask for some help with the planes, so you’ll be in the hangars. I’ll take you for a quick flyby,” Tony chuckled to himself, pleased with the pun, “we’ll pick up the tour after since the meeting with Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Stark is at 0900 sharp and those suits don’t mess around.”

Tony’s strides were long, and it took Ellie a moment to jog after him, catching up just in time for him to open the door for her.

“If you’re not five minutes early—” Ellie started, half playing into the old Navy saying she had grown up hearing as she slipped into the hangar.

The nostalgic scent of jet fuel and oil hit Ellie hard in the closed space — it didn’t seem to matter how long she did this, how long she worked around planes and crews, in different countries, different airfields, this part never changed. Part of that was comforting in an odd way. It felt like home to her.

Tony snapped his fingers in response, the sound of agreement. Tony opened his mouth to speak when a loud peel of laughter echoed in the closed space. Tony glanced at his watch, confused for a moment before his face turned toward Ellie, excited. “Oh, well, will you look at that, lucky you, we’ve got some of our Flyboys here. Must have some free time before drills.”

Ellie followed a few steps behind Tony as he rounded the front of a line of Super Hornets, a spring in his step. As they approached, she took in the group of aviators in their flight suits from a distance, casually talking and laughing — and then her stomach twisted, her gait faltering for a moment.

There, leaning against one of the jets, was the last person she expected to see again, let alone here: Hangman.

He looked almost exactly as he had last night, though somehow the daylight amplified everything about him— his height, the confident set of his shoulders. He turned, mid-laugh and Ellie watched as his eyes caught on her, like he recognized her for a fraction of a second before the look was gone just as quickly.

Hangman’s easy smile shifted when he saw her, an eyebrow shooting up, surprise flashing across his face before his expression settled into something like amusement.

The last time she’d seen that look, she’d been over top of him, hovering, before he pulled her down over his mouth greedily, his tongue painting pictures over her most sensitive nerve endings as she moaned. She was pretty sure she’d broken one of her fingernails as she gripped the headboard, biting into her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood, his other hand reaching up to cup her breast roughly.

Yet here he was now, in the light of day, truly in his element, looking like he belonged here as much as the jets around him.

Ellie felt her heart kick up a notch, a reaction she’d hoped she’d managed to stow away. She forced herself to play it cool, lifting her chin slightly as they neared the group. She didn’t have a choice – there was no running from this. The consequences of her own actions coming back around to haunt her.

“Hangman, Payback, Harvard,” Tony greeted, nodding to him and the other pilots. “Good to see you guys. Just giving our new radar tech a tour.”

Ellie felt her pulse quicken as his gaze slid back to her. He wasn’t going to say anything, right? They were strangers here, well, coworkers now. She wasn’t Amelia Earhart, and he wasn’t the pilot from the party, except, he very clearly was and Ellie had miscalculated, mis-stepped. A TOPGUN pilot no less.

As she held his gaze, she could see the recognition flickering behind his eyes. He knew exactly who she was, but his mask didn’t slip, not for a second.

“This is—”

“Rigby. Eleanor.” Ellie interrupted Tony sharply. The introduction as herself, not as Amelia, would be on her own terms. At least she could control that. Here, at Miramar, she was Eleanor Rigby.

“Welcome to the team, Rigby,” he said smoothly, holding out a hand as if they hadn’t already met in the most intimate of ways. The way he said her name sounded off, like he was testing it out in the context of their previous… encounter.

Ellie held her breath, pausing only a moment before she forced herself to shake his hand. “Thanks,” she replied coolly, her voice even, though she was silently praying for the ground to swallow her whole. She refused to let him get the upper hand. Not here, not in front of people she had to work with.

His grip was firm, his eyes amused. Ellie caught the brief flicker of his gaze to her neck, his eyes resting where Ellie knew she’d tried to hide the hickey, admiring his work, likely.

Tony chuckled, oblivious to the tension. “Lieutenant Seresin’s one of the best we’ve got. You’ll probably end up working on his bird now and then.”

Ellie forced a smile, though she could feel the bottom of her stomach drop out and she cleared her throat in an attempt to press down the nervous, incredulous laugh that threatened to escape her. Technically, she’d worked on it last night, right?

“Looking forward to it,” she said instead, even though the last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near him right now.

He released her hand, stepping back into the group of pilots. “Catch you around, Rigby” he said casually, before turning back to his crew, who began to stalk off, out of the large open hangar doors, not looking back.

“Anyway, you’ll be working here between—” Tony continued, oblivious.

Ellie let out a breath as Tony waved at her to follow him, continuing the tour. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on Tony’s voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of Hangman’s eyes on her or the memory of last night still lingering between them. This complicated things. This really complicated things.

At least he’d set a standard: he didn’t know her and Ellie was only happy to play along with that pretense. She didn’t know him either. At least, that’s the story she was sticking to.

The fluorescent lights in the conference room felt harsher than usual, and Ellie shifted uncomfortably as Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Ingrid Stark watched her closely, their expressions unreadable.

Standing before two of the Navy’s highest-ranking officers, Ellie tried to steady her breath, tried to ignore the slow trickle of panic coursing through her. The same panic that churned the small bit of breakfast she’d managed to eat while maneuvering in and out of San Diego traffic all the way to North Island.

All she had to do was focus, recenter her mind on the presentation. The presentation that culminated the last three years of her career, it was important, she knew – it had been the sole focus of her work in Turkey and yet, here she was, hiding that stupid hickey and thinking about the man who made it. Thinking about how he looked at her in the hangar not but twenty minutes ago, a glance exchanged that held a shared secret between them as he took her hand and treated her like a stranger. Cool, calm, collected, all charm.

It was the same easy charisma she’d leaned into just last night, at the Halloween party, blissfully unaware of who he really was. Except now she knew he’d been telling the truth the whole damn time and she’d just called his bluff wrong. And now, now with all those thoughts running through her mind at Mach 2, she was standing here, in front of the highest-ranking personnel on base, expected to deliver a groundbreaking presentation on her research, trying to ignore the lingering flush of that unexpected run-in this morning.

Ellie cleared her throat, tightening her grip on her tablet as she began walking the Admirals through her research. Running through her practiced script, she carefully outlined her new detection algorithm—a project that had garnered their attention in the first place, the same work that had pulled her back here, to Miramar.

Truthfully, if they’d asked any probing questions, Ellie would have to confess that the technology was in its earliest stages but had the potential to counteract enemy jamming of GPS signals. In theory (because that was the key word theory), the algorithm she’d developed, on paper, had the potential to become an un-jammable navigation system.

Ellie clicked through to the next slide, “The reason this algorithm has the potential to give our pilots the advantage is because the enemy would have -”

You have to say please, sweetheart.

The memory from last night, his words a steady command, sent a pulse through her, from her chest, down into her core, where it settled, hot and pulsing.

Ellie’s voice caught in her throat, and she coughed, before holding up her index finger and pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher at the head of the table. Quietly she sipped the water, her eyes landing outside the window at the tarmac as ground crew guided an F18 out of the hangar. She waited for a beat, measuring her sips as she calmed down.

Get your shit together, Rigby. She coached herself, draining the last of the water as she caught Admiral Simpson checking his watch from the corner of her eye. You are not going to screw this up because you had sex last night.

Incredible sex.

The best sex you've had in the last two years... possibly in your entire life.

Top tier sex... with your new co-worker. Who just so happens to fall into the off-limits category.

If she could have shaken her head without it seeming strange, she would have, but she suspected she was getting into foot tapping territory. With Admirals, time was money.

“I’m sorry, as I was saying—” Ellie straightened her blazer, setting the glass down and resuming her presentation, determined.

When she finished, Admiral Simpson leaned back, giving her a thoughtful once-over as he drummed his fingers on the folder containing her research on the table in front of him. “Well, Ms. Neven,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The best of the best. That’s what they told me about you. I suppose that must run in the family.”

The weight of the comment hit her immediately, and her mind reeled again. This time for an entirely different reason. She hadn’t anticipated Rick’s reputation coming up so soon—or at all.

She managed a quick nod, hoping it looked confident. “Thank you, sir,” she said, barely keeping her voice steady.

Simpson’s smile deepened. “When we saw you were one of the top minds in the field, it was a no-brainer to bring you in for this project. Your research is intriguing.” His gaze softened slightly, just enough to give her a glimpse of the man behind the rank and she wondered if, for half a second, it had anything to do with the fact that he had a daughter her age. “You’re going to do great things here. Your dad’ll be proud, no doubt.”

Ellie nodded again, murmuring her thanks, feeling an odd pressure bubbling under the surface. Truthfully, she had expected some bluster about her family, some comments about her father and his Radar Intercept Officer being wingmen for the late Fleet Commander Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. She hadn’t expected it this soon.

“Admiral Stark and I will take a look over your documentation and see how best to get the testing started. I trust you’ll let us know if you need anything in the meantime?” Admiral Simpson stood then, and an Officer stationed outside the boardroom opened the door from the outside.

The meeting adjourned, and as everyone began to filter out, Ellie felt herself unraveling by the second, anxiety pushing its way to the forefront. She wanted to scream or laugh, possibly both. Instead, she was rooted in place, unable to decide whether to escape to the nearest empty room or brace herself against the wall and breathe. If she didn’t leave this room for the rest of the day, what were the chances she’d run into him again? Probably slim.

This was her first day here. The first day and she was thinking about how she’d been laid bare and fucked out of her mind by a man she’d never thought she’d see again, much less work with. All in the middle of one of the most important presentations of her entire life, in front of the people who could make that research into something tangible, a finished product, a cornerstone of new technology in aviation, a reality.

The lights in the boardroom automatically flicked off and Ellie sighed, gathering up the last of her things before exiting the room. She could hide in the women’s bathroom, right?

“Ms. Neven.” RADM Stark’s voice approaching from the hallway behind her startled Ellie. As she turned, Ellie watched as Stark appraised her with a mix of curiosity and approval. “Impressive work. It’s good to have some estrogen in the room for once.” Her lips curled into a slight smirk, and Ellie let out the measured breath she’d been holding.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m—excited to work here,” Ellie's voice was a little steadier now, a bit of genuine enthusiasm breaking through her nerves as she reminded herself why she was here in the first place. Her work. Her career. Her tech.

Stark raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, producing a small stick of concealer from a crisp tan pant pocket. She held Ellie’s gaze, a message or a warning behind her cool eyes, Ellie couldn’t be sure, as the ranked Officer handed the makeup to Ellie. “I think we might be the same shade.”

Ellie’s heart stuttered as the realization hit her, broad-sided. Her hand shot to her neck before she could think, the heat in her cheeks flaring brighter than before as she accepted the concealer, mumbling a mortified thank-you.

Stark gave her a knowing smile, a curt little nod as she tapped the side of her nose, before walking away, her stride as calm and confident as when she’d approached.

Ellie waited until the RADM was clear from sight before making a beeline for the bathroom, practically stumbling into the mirror over the sink. She tilted her head to confirm what she already knew was there: a very visible, very damning mark on her neck. The scarlet letter.

Great.

She didn’t waste a second applying RADM Stark’s concealer, muttering under her breath as she blended it carefully with the tips of her fingers, dabbing. “One day at Miramar, Ellie. One day.”

As she swiped on the secondary layer of concealer for good measure, she felt the rush of everything hit her again. The tension of the presentation, the equal parts pride and pressure from the Admiral’s praise, and him—Lieutenant Seresin, Hangman, with his easy, cocky grin and the piercing eyes that, despite everything, she could still feel on her.

tags: @mrsevans90 , @avengersfan25 , @hookslove1592

taglist if you want to be added/removed!

#glen powell #smut #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin smut #top gun hangman #top gun maverick #hangman smut #hangman x oc #top gun fanfiction #tom iceman kazansky #rick hollywood neven #(i love you) it's ruining my life #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun

171 notes · View notes