#then the post wedding fuck session

[an-abyss-of-stars]

He Saw Her At Daybreak: UPDATE

Headcannoning dresses for Rhaena to wear that would absolutely drive Aemond mad 🤣🤣

How do I get away with incorporating these? No idea, we'll figure it out 😂😂 I feel like one of these dresses could absolutely be a creative interpretation of a wedding gown (The Seven's wedding, the Valyrian one we'll keep with the traditional look).

-

Also also, this CHAPTER!! Y'ALL ASKED FOR A MONSTER CHAPTER and it's gonna be a monster chapter cause I'm currently at 11K words and you should know I'm not even halfway done 🤣🤣

Worst case scenario, I'm going to write the whole thing out, and maybe split it in two, BUT I'll post both chapters back to back. So in essence it's still one massive content dump 😂✨

[no-144444]

slip up- o.piastri (no.81)

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summary: oscar slips up about your marriage.

pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader

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“How was your summer break Oscar?” Jack Doohan asked. 

“Yeah, it was good. Visited my wife’s family in Ireland for two weeks. It was beautiful,” he smiled, remembering the happy memories. 

Jack smirked, knowing what he’d just said and didn’t realise. “Feeling ready and rested for today? Ready to beat Verstappen?”

He chuckled. “We’ll see, I guess.”

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“So Y/n, how was your summer break?” Will Buxton asked, a smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah all good Osc and I went back to visit family, it was a great holiday. We spent some time in Dublin, in Galway, in Tipperary, in Kerry, yeah. It was gorgeous. We finally got some good weather for once,” you smiled. 

“Do anything special?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“We actually showed his family all around Ireland, and our extended families met for like, the first time which was cool,” you shrugged. “Yeah, Nicole is an avid hiker so we went up Carrauntoohil, which if you don’t know is the tallest mountain in Ireland. Hattie was not a fan,” you chuckled. “Yeah, but it was great, we had a bunch of fun.” 

“Well, that sounds like a lovely break. How are you feeling about today? Worried about the weather and wind?” He asked. 

“No, not really. Obviously Zandvoort is always a very unpredictable circuit in terms of weather, but I kind of grew up with this being the standard for almost every karting race, or just training session. If I’m not used to it by now, I’d feel a bit foolish,” you chuckled. 

“And Oscar, your husband, how do you think he’s feeling?” Will asked, a smirk on his face, knowing that Oscar exposed you two. 

You raised an eyebrow. “My boyfriend,” you corrected. “Is probably fine. He has the fastest car on the grid, and a bunch of talent. I’m not worried.”

“Do you think the McLaren’s will beat you?”

“I’m a realist Will, and I’m not stupid. Obviously they’ll beat us, are you mental?”

“Ok,”  he chuckled. “Thank you for your time.”

“Bye!” you smiled, walking away. 

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Nicole called you as you stepped into the McLaren motorhome.  

“Hey Nicole,” you smiled. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if my son wasn’t stupid,” she deadpanned. 

You chuckled. “How is he stupid?” 

“Are you with anyone now?”

“No, just in the McLaren motorhome trying to find your stupid son,” you shrugged. “What’s up?”

“He said you were his wife in an interview,” she sighed and you face-palmed. “Yeah.”

“Fuck’s sake,” you sighed, picking up the pace to try and find him quicker. You went to his driver’s room, the canteen, even Zak Brown’s office as you chatted to Nicole, then ultimately hung up to try and call Oscar. 

He picked up after two rings. “Hey baby, everything alright? I’m looking for you right now and I can’t find you?”

“I’m in the McLaren motorhome,” you told him. “Did you tell someone that we were married?”

“Ummm… I don’t think so? I’m pretty sure I’ve been keeping it under wraps pretty tightly,” he chuckled. “Why?”

“Your mum just called me and told me you said I was your ‘wife’ in an interview, so… yeah,” you explained. 

“Shit,” he whispered. “I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to- it was a complete accident, I swear-”

“Osc, I’m not mad. To be honest I thought you would’ve been worse, I thought you would’ve accidentally posted the wedding photos or something,” you chuckled. “We should honestly just tell people. Anyways, come meet me, I want to see you.”

“I love you,” he was smiling, you could tell, happy you two didn’t have to hide it anymore. It had been both your ideas to hide the wedding, just to keep it quiet for a while. You asked all the drivers (all of them came), and anyone else within the F1 sphere to not post about anything to do with Ireland. You even went as far as to shut down an entire Terminal in the Dublin Airport to get people in and out inconspicuously. You just wanted your wedding to be yours, no one else's. 

It was gorgeous though, getting married in a manor house on the coast of Galway with all of your closest family and friends was definitely one of the best days of your life. Your ‘honeymoon’ had consisted of showing both your extended families around Ireland, and spending nights watching films and reading books with Oscar by your side. It was relaxing, but not exactly what a honeymoon should be, so you two had a month-long trip to the Maldives planned for the winter. 

Oscar wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck as he hummed a greeting. 

“Well hello to you too,” you chuckled. 

“I have such a gorgeous wife,” he smiled. 

“I have such a gorgeous husband,” you smiled back. You turned around to him and kissed him quickly as a greeting, then you grabbed his hand and led him further into the motorhome. You two walked to his driver’s room, and you sat on the bed as Oscar pulled out his phone. You all sent texts out to various family and drivers, giving them permission to post pictures of your wedding, then shared your own.

"It's out," he turned to you.

You nodded, biting your lip to stop your smile. "It's out."

He smiled bashfully. :you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Ditto," you chuckled and he laughed.

"Ditto?" he gawked. "Baby-"

"I'm kidding," you cupped his cheeks. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too. I couldn't imagine my life without you, I love you ."

He blushed and leant in, pressing your lips together. "Now..." he smirked. "We can put our rings back on."

You smiled as you both pulled the necklaces that held you rings on them out from around your necks. You had Oscar's, and Oscar had yours. You took it off the chain and pushed it onto his finger, smiling as he did the same to you. Just like your wedding day.

"I'm so glad I married you," you smiled.

"I'm so glad you married me too."

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comments

user5: WTAF

user569: i missed like 13000 chapters, they got married?????

user46: YAY Y/NOSCAR

user72: they're married????

y/npiastri: lando will cry, change the caption :(

-> alexalbon: ok MOM.

-> landonorris: I'm a grown man Y/n

-> y/npiastri: funny, because you don't act like it when you ask me to make you grilled cheese????

-> user37: she ate him up

-> user28: THE USERNAME CHANGE????!!!!!

user72: hey so this is insane.

kikagomez: I'm so normal about them (i cried 13 different times).

-> alexandrast.mleux: same (i didn't stop crying)

lilymhe: my OTP

-> alexalbon: I'll go fuck myself I guess???

-> oscarpiastri: off you go!

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comments

user27: THE DRESS HELLO

user21: she really is the prettiest person on planet earth isn't she?

-> oscarpiastri: Yup :)

-> user21: HOLY SHIT THEY'RE SO CUTE.

nicolepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

addiepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

maepiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

chrispiastri: ❤️❤️❤️

user80: the whole piastri family in the comments :)))))

landonorris: she slayed.

-> pierregasly: real.

-> maxverstappen: real.

-> arthurleclerc: real.

-> zhouguanyu: real

-> lancestroll: real.

-> dannielriccardo: real.

->valterribottas: real.

-> lewishamilton: real.

-> nicohulkenberg: real.

-> kmag: real.

-> oscarpiastri: real.

-> georgerusell: real.

->alexalbon: real

-> logansargeant: real.

-> kimiantonelli: real.

->olliebearman: real.

->liamlawson: real.

-> estebanocon: real.

-> yukitsunoda: real.

->checoperez: real

->paularon: real

-> alexdunne: REAL.

-> fernandoalonso: real.

-> charlesleclerc: real.

->carlossainz: real.

-> mickschumacher: real.

-> sebastianvettel: real.

->markwebber: real.

->jensonbutton: real.

->y/npiastri: THANKS GUYS :))))

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comments

logansargeant: diabolical caption

-> landonorris: THANK YOU

-> logansargeant: no ones talking about the bouquet we picked out mate, that's why.

-> landonorris: DOUBLE HOW DARE YOU

y/npiastri: Love you Alex ❤️

oscarpiastri: Thanks Albono

georgerussell: ❤️

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y/npiastri: my love :) ->oscarpiastri: MY love :) -> landonorris: possessiveness kink much? -> y/npiastri: GET OFF YOUR PHONE RIGHT NOW.

zakbrownceo: Adorable -> landonorris: why is bro acting like he was invited 🤣🤣🤣 -> zakbrownceo: why is bro acting like i'll just give him a seat next year 🤣🤣🤣🤣 -> landonorris: 😐

lewishamilton: pretty flowers, wonder who picked them??? -> logansargeant: ME! ->alexalbon: ME! -> landonorris: ME! -> fernandoalonso: ME! -> valtteribottas: ME! -> charlesleclerc: ME! -> georgerussell: ME! -> zhouguanyu: ME! -> lancestroll: ME! -> danielriccardo: ME! -> hattiepiastri: ME! -> addiepiastri: ME! -> maepiastri: ME! -> nicolepiastri: ME! ->kmag: ME! -> nicohulkenberg: ME! ->estebanocon: ME! -> pierregasly: ME! -> yukitsunonda: ME! ----------

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[blujayonthewing]

this is so fucking depressing lmao

[beababoobies]

hello i saw your request post and requesting is my full time job atp this is a basic one but size and breeding kink with toji, sukuna, + anyone else you wanna include :)

I always find breeding kink requests with Toji so funny bc his ass is NOT no baby daddy🙅🙅🙅🙅🙅 

𝜗𝜚TOJI FUSHIGURO𝜗𝜚

Toji was not a man who was fit to be a dad. Well, that’s what he had told himself again and again, whenever he would have the urge to lose the condom, or not stopping when it broke. The way your body bounced with each harsh thrust of his made him a little delirious, and that’s all he chalked it up to. But then, you got the implant.

God, that fucking implant. He could’ve swore it messed with your pheromones or something - could’ve sworn you didn’t feel this fucking good around him before, the way your cheeks flushed and your eyes got all teary when you begged him to cum inside you had him feeing like a fucking nympho. Day or night, mornings before missions, Monday through Sunday, in the middle of the night when he had to wake up to get something to drink - it really didn’t matter. But then an idea even more delicious started to poke at the back of his mind.

It all started when you were curled up into him after one of your many, many sessions, snoring softly, with his cum leaking out of you, did the idea start to crawl onto him. The image of you, pregnant with his kid, all round and directly at his mercy to love, ready to be pumped full again, and again, and again. He played with the implant imprint in your upper arm, humming in agreement to whatever you were saying about it. He wasn’t listening. He didn’t care. He hated the thing. 

So, being the man he is, Toji had a new goal. To fuck you, fill you up so much that you physically couldn’t not get pregnant. He wanted to pump you up with so, so much of his cum, that you were wobbling trying to stand up after. He wanted to see it leak out of you, wanted to see you with that same, teary eyed, pathetic little look everyday. The way you whines about too much only fuelled him further, putting you in the position you were in now, thighs pressed right to your tummy. Mating press style.

“T-toji! Baby! Give yourself s-some time! Jesus F-fuck!” You whined, practically throwing a fit over how hard he was pumping himself into you. It had been three rounds for him - six for you, because he had eaten you out front to back, as a pre-apology, he supposed for how hard he was about to bruise up your guts. He just squeezed your thighs in the wide palms of his hands, letting out a groan when you scratched your nails down his back even more desperately.

“Mmm… I don’t think so. Think ‘m gonna fill you up until you burst… get you all round ‘nd full of me. You just have to lay there and take it baby.” He grunted out through harsh thrusts, face buried in your neck as he breathed heavily, giving you small nips of appreciation the more sensitive areas of your skin, and pressing kisses to your earlobe for every time you’d sweetly whine out his name. God, this was heaven. 

And you’d be his archangel. 

𝜗𝜚RYOMEN SUKUNA𝜗𝜚

Sukuna wanted an heir. This was his end goal when he saw you, this was his end goal when he married you, and this was end goal right now, only a couple months after your wedding night, to put an heir in you. His stomach did giddy flips one wouldn’t assume the king of curses could even feel thinking about an heir even half as divine as you were. He would kill anyone who said anything even slightly negative about you with a snap of his fingers, fuck, he wouldn’t even bother wasting his energy on killing such stupid scum, he’d get Uraume to do it. 

His mind drifted as he prepared you in his lap, fingers scissoring inside you as you whined and squirmed, trying to hide your face in his bare chest your slick dripping all down his hand, even his wrist. He made you cum three times already, shushing you whenever you tried to protest about being ‘ready’ to be pumped full of him. Your nails scratched against his back, the pain only egging him on as he pressed a kiss to your now sticky forehead, sweat dripping from the orgasms he pulled from you. To him, this was a ritual. 

A ritual of patience, a ritual of love, a ritual of procreation. Both his cocks strained heavy against the thin, soft silk of his sokutai, letting you grind helplessly and pathetically against them. His other hand was rubbing circles into your back, cooing you to calm down as he worked you up at the same time. 

Before you, sex, intimacy, whatever you’d call it - was a chore. He’d call in a concubine, already prepped for him, get it over with, and not have the cravings for another week or so. He didn’t do it for their pleasure, it was supposed to be a privilege on their part, to even be near him. But something primal in him snapped when he first saw you, something that made giving pleasure seem so… enticing, sweet. 

He was right, by any definition, you were sweet. Your taste was an ambrosia unlike any other, a gift from whatever gods above him - which he didn’t believe there were any, he was the god everyone prayed to, he was the top of the food chain, and you could go any higher - but you had him second guessing his own faiths when he tugged and kneaded at your thighs, giving you small spanks to keep you grinding your hips onto his face. 

It took nearly an hour of him letting his mind go in circles while the beautiful whines of yours for hoarser and hoarser, another four orgasms from you, for him to agree that you were ‘ready’ to be filled up, ready to carry his heir, ready to be soft and mouldable for him, and once he had you pressed into the silk sheets of your bed, he nearly burst to tears. The way you laid there, looking at him like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf, eyes wide and heart beating fast, littered with bite marks and spit, hands gripping the sheets, knowing things were only going to get more and more intense, he just had to ruin you. It would be selfish not to eat you whole. 

[ox-imagines]

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 2 | Vagastrom

Pt. 1 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7

Alan - Bodyguard

Almost everywhere you go, you have a detail of bodyguards, protecting you from harm and prying eyes. As such, one of them is almost always with you to ensure your safety, and it’s often your personal favorite. Alan doesn’t even realize he’s your favorite, he just thinks it’s him because he’s the strongest and most vigilant. One night while he’s standing guard outside your door, you ask him to come in your room, insisting that it’s warmer there than in the hallway and at least he could sit while watching you. Reluctantly, he agrees. He starts to sit in a chair, but you grab his hand, tugging him gently over to sit on your bed while you slept. He still isn’t aware of your feelings for him, but now he’s got some of his own that he’s not quite sure what to do with.

“This is unprofessional… are you sure this is ok? Fine, you’re the boss…”

Sho - Enemies to Lovers

At first, Sho comes off as indifferent, directionless, and a bit cold. His attitude bothers you so much, but you’re given an assignment you’re partnered for. He’ll disagree with you about almost anything, but won’t even actually fight you on it, which is honestly worse. If he doesn’t like what you want to do, why doesn’t he suggest something he wants to do? His apathy brings out the worst in you and eventually he does snap, yelling back at you about how obnoxious it is to try and work with you and he wishes you’d just finish the assignment yourself if you didn’t actually want his input. The argument somehow ends in a very heated makeout session, after which he seems at least a little more invested and agreeable about how to do your assignment.

“Why should I give a fuck? Just do it yourself if you care so much instead of getting on my case for not caring! We can’t all be perfe- …oh. Shit, what, what are you doing…?”

Leo - Fake Relationship

Leo was kind of a friend of yours; you had a family wedding coming up and had recently led your family to believe you had a boyfriend, and unfortunately your other friends were busy that weekend. You asked Leo, and first he laughed at you, but then he decided it might be a good ‘marketing ploy’ to act like your boyfriend and promote himself to all the other wedding attendees. He acts caring around others but is still merciless towards you whenever you’re alone about how ‘funny’ it is you were so desperate you had to ask him of all people. He notices though that your family doesn’t seem to like you much, giving you underhanded compliments and sideways comments all night, and you take it like it’s nothing but he notices the way your eyes waver. It resonates with some part of him he thought he’d cut himself off from, and by the end of the night he’s not teasing you anymore and his arm around your waist feels a bit more sincere.

“I know your mom didn’t like the dress you picked, but for what it’s worth, I think you look good enough to even put on my SNS. I bet my followers would go crazy if I posted you looking like this.”

[shoebillstork]

Mutual 1: (An extremely extensive post detailing their trauma on their secret blog)

Mutual 1: (A picture of the soup they finished making) Eeatting penis soup grab a bowl

Mutual 2: (Cropped batman yaoi) This scene was so compelling in the comics qnd established so much for Bruce Waynes character as a bottom

Mutual 3: Just updated my comic (it is one of the most compelling pieces of narrative youve ever read. Its based off of a bad game)

Mutual 4: Ngl this omegaverse gacha life youtube video is more compelling than most shows i watch

Mutual 5: Finally cocking out i swear if one more thing happens today i will snap

Mutual 6: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 7: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 8: PENIS TYPO

Mutual 9: This yak tranquilizer weak af

Mutual 10: Come make my sinister potion (posts how to make a pipebomb)

Mutual 11: Do i get plastic surgery and change my name and move to a different country y/n (poll is in favor of yes by a huge margin)

Mutual 12: Mutual 13 is a lying fucking piece of trash and i think they should drop dead. They live at 308 Negra Aroya Lane, Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87104 and im going to record me beating the shit out of them

Mutual 13: Aww my bestie is coming to visit me soon :]

(Mutual 12 and 13 are dating)

Mutual 14: who tf does she think she is (posts a sc of mutual 8 from three url changes ago. It is mutual 8 saying theyre going to the park)

Mutual 15: So in my latest session in dnd we rolled 1d12 for dick size and i rolled a nat 20 and idk what to do with this reponsibility now

Mutual 16: he looks so good im going to scream (a screenshot where said character is so far in the background he doesnt even have a face)

Mutual 17: eho up thinking about the moral dillemma presented in pokemon go

Mutual 18: take a look at my ocs :D (mona lisa if dhe was gay)

Mutual 19: i hadba really good day today i got to spend some time bonding with my entire family and we got to celebrate something we havent had the time for in 37 years

Mutual 20: (reblogging mutual 19) L + Don't care + 632146K~P PRC, dl.2146K~P, 5K > 2146K~P, 5K > JF 2146K~P, 2H, WS ([4]6H->P), 623H

Mutual 21: (Blurry photo of them running from police) they're after me for my stash kf yaoi cocaine

Mutual 22: (Miles long RP chain they started 2 months ago. You have post notification on for them because its awesome)

Mutual 23: Discussing the morality of liking bananas over mangoes

Mutuals 24 ans 25: having a dramatic wedding where theyre acting as a crack ship. They're on the verge of divorce

Mutual 26: She winding onbmy waker (is in the middle of intense controversy)

Mutual 27: (Callout for mutual 26)

Mutual 28: If Mutual 17 asked i would give them a sloppy toppy

Mutual 29: Anon get out of my inbox before j block you his ass is NOT flat. (His ass is fucking concave)

Mutual 30: Shes just like me fr (a picture kf a shopping cart)

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

alicia

the way it worked with alicia was, someone was always trying to keep an eye on her. tom working from home on M, W, and F, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays their dad drove into the city to hang out with her. Annie offered to take Tuesdays off of their dad's plate--it was a long drive, and she had remote patients that day she could meet with from Tom's bedroom.

tom had a monitor into alicia's bedroom, like a baby monitor. annie found it to be wildly, electrically intrusive. alicia slept in every morning and so annie was already in her "office" working when alicia woke up and got dressed in full view of the camera. she knew alicia knew it was there, and one day, after a long call with a patient annie asked alicia how she masturbated with the camera there.

"well," alicia laughed. "i haven't yet."

"jesus, it has been weeks," annie said. "aren't you dying?"

"yes," alicia said. "i'm just a little nervous to try it."

"you are?"

"well, when i was with you i had a bunch of orgasms and then i had a stroke and fell into a coma. so what if that happens again the next time i cum?"

"alicia, you are i were really drunk and really coked up. it will be different."

"i don't know."

"jerk off, please," annie said. "look -- I will dial 9 and 1 on my phone and i'll be ready. but just go fucking cum."

alicia went obediently to her room. annie watched her touch herself tentatively on the monitor. she took so long that annie honestly tuned her out until she heard her breathing pick up, something like 30 minutes later. annie watched as alicia had an orgasm, and then sat there peacefully, and then started giggling.

"see?" annie said.

that night, tom texted annie. "LOL, thanks," he said. "Alicia won't stop jerking it now."

"hot," annie said. "are you jerking off while you watch her?"

"you're very intense," tom said. "would you want your brother to jerk off while watching you masturbate on a monitor? don't answer that, i know the answer is 'of course.'"

"of course," annie said. "i need new panties just imagining it."

"let me see," he said.

she sent him a picture of her soaked panties. he sent her a picture of his cock with the monitor visible in the background.

annie texted alicia. "does it turn you on knowing your brother can see you masturbating?"

"duh," alicia replied. "i'm imagining the live feed is being broadcast to everyone i know. my parents, friends, exes, teachers..."

"you get it," annie said. "as soon as i learned to be slutty i immediately regretted that so many people in my life never got to see my pussy."

"i find it hard to believe that anyone in your life hasn't seen your pussy," alicia said.

that night, in an attempt to connect with her mom, annie sent her a post-coital picture tom had taken. his cock is resting against annie's pussy and stomach, and his cum is all over her stomach and tits. "look at my boyfriend's cock," she said.

"it's very nice," her mom replied. "very big." she sent back a picture of herself blowing annie's dad -- the tip of his cock in her mouth, his cum running down her chin.

"so fucking hot," annie replied.

the next morning, her mom sent her a bathroom mirror nude. "sending this to your father so he'll wake up and fuck me," she said.

"he better do it," annie replied. 20 minutes later, her mom sent a video of herself riding him.

that afternoon was alice's weekly session. alice's voice had deteriorated further, but her neurologist believed it was temporary. alice spoke to annie via a text to speech app on her computer. alice typed very quickly, so it worked, but it was very strange. annie found herself very worried about alice, who seemed placid in a way that annie read as suicidal. after her session, annie called angel.

"i know what you mean," angel said as annie started to explain her worries. "we're monitoring the situation." annie thanked her and called julia.

julia's depression had leveled out, but not improved. she had very few patients and never left her parents' house. planning for the wedding had totally paused, jim quietly letting their friends know the save the date may no longer be valid. talking to her friend, annie could feel the old julia in there. she just needed someone to get it out of her.

someone also needed to take care of jim, annie thought, selfishly. she went to his apartment that afternoon and they fucked for a few hours. after, she played with his cum on her tits and asked if he'd gotten dirty with jenny since her visit.

jim told annie that she called him on facetime nude all the time, recently calling in panties and then, as soon as they were visible onscreen, said "oh, i'm so overdressed" and took them off. sometimes late at night she texted him "what are you up to?" with a picture of herself touching herself in bed, from her POV, all very tame but very hot. jim sent back videos of himself stroking his cock. annie loved scrolling through several instances of this happening and looking at jenny's responses. "fuck!" was the most common refrain, along with "i feel like a freak for saying you have a great cock but you have a great cock" and variations of the same.

they sent jenny several videos of their afternoon fuck. she responded with a "fuck!" and then a "i'm going to go make myself cum five times to this" and then later "annie makes me want to shave my pussy bald."

"don't do it," jim said. "i like the landing strip."

"do you like thinking about how it would move as you shoved your cock inside me?" she replied. "sorry, too far?"

"lol," he replied, "no, not too far."

"i mean watch," she said, and sent a video of herself slowly inserting a dildo, watching it progress as it slightly lifted the elevation of her pubic hair.

annie showered at jim's apartment and went over to tom's place. alicia was napping so she and tom had sex on the couch. they were done but still naked and messy when alicia woke up. she came around to the back of the couch and looked down at them, touching the back of tom's head affectionately while she looked at his wet cock. she was only wearing a pink pair of panties. "you two are so wonderful together," she said.

annie slept over that night, which she rarely did, but now that casey and robbie were always at her apartment she felt less drawn to being there. when she woke up in the morning, tom was already off to work, and their father had arrived to watch alicia. annie put on a t-shirt and panties before heading out to the living room.

alicia was in just a see-thru bra and a gray thong as she stood in the kitchen and chatted with her dad. annie talked for a bit and then announced her intention to shower before taking off her shirt. alicia's dad looked at annie's tits and said, "you two really do look a lot a like below the chin."

"i know, right?" alicia giggled. "every time i see her naked it's like looking in a mirror. this is her bra." annie looked at it. it was. she didn't remember leaving it there. "it's a great bra," her dad said.

when annie got out of the shower, she dried off and came out to the kitchen nude. alicia was bottomless. "annie, does your mom shave her pussy?" she asked.

"no," annie said.

"see?" alicia said. "it's a mom thing. my dad is wondering why my mom doesn't fully shave."

"i've always thought i'd still shave even after i have kids," annie said. "but i like your wife's bush."

"the last time she shaved was when she was pregnant," he said. "after that, she got sick of it."

"maybe i will too," annie said. "but i doubt it."

"you like my wife's bush?" he said. "you've seen it?"

"yeah, when she got out of the shower," annie said. she gestured at herself. "we're all very similar women, i guess."

"yeah, tom and i have the same type," he laughed.

alicia left for the shower, and when she closed the bathroom door, annie looked at jack. "wanna cum on me?" she offered.

"yes," he said. "but i will leave that to my son."

annie sighed. "okay, fine, be a good person."

he laughed.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 29

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 6.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hello! She's here....

I suggest reading The Holiday chapter I posted this Christmas, before this one.

I hope you enjoy. HEHEHE

December 1989

Javier’s uncle died very suddenly. 

Escobar didn’t. Javier swears he has spent twenty years of his life in Colombia. Tainted by death, sex and drugs. What is the point of anything when you’ve become desensitized to tragedy? Time slows each time. He can't keep count of how many hours he has spent outside of various buildings just waiting for medics to roll out the victims. Hours he spent, cigarette in hand just talking about what's next while bodies are wheeled away. Days spent in bed with women racking his bills sky high. Just because sometimes he can't come home to a bed empty.

 He had enough, he broke protocol and he knew that the hammer was to come down on him. He knew that the DEA was just as twisted, a fearful institution that only cared about profit. Because if there are no more cartels, there is no more DEA. The only goal was to kill the big man, capo, whatever you may have. Make the Americans proud, we did that. We killed The Drug Pin. But the cartel doesn’t just die with its leader but that's it, to the DEA, the performance is over and it's time to move on. Send them all home, leave the country in shambles. So fuck it, Javier was tired of being congratulated when he just felt like a bad guy. 

He knew the government, his organization, were aware of its corruption. There hadn't been a care. 

The rest of the guys were being reassigned and they asked him to resign quietly. After all he did for them. Bled himself dry. And all it took was for him announcing his disappointment for them to threaten being fired, tarnishing his reputation. 

Or of course, leave quietly and tell his colleagues he was just ready to settle down. 

Escobar and George Peña died on the same day. Javier wasn’t home for 3 days, he missed all the frantic calls from his father. On the third day he was asked to resign quietly. 

He went home, slept and drank. Skipped a session with Dr. Hertz. Ignored the phone calls that came in. Stared at the resignation form on his coffee table. Buried himself in a different cunt each night. 

Until he signed, packed his home and picked up the phone. 

Chucho Peña was one of 2 children. He was the baby, his brother was twelve when he came into the world. It was a rough age gap. They weren't always very close. George was around for the big milestones: Chucho's wedding, Javier’s birth, a few birthdays and there for his brother when his wife left. But mostly, George spent his time in his high rise apartment in Houston. It's where Javier lived for a year at age 15. When he wanted to be a cop, when Chucho took a chance and paid an ungodly amount for The School of Law and Order. 

George had just entered remission. He was diagnosed with melanoma a year prior, it wasn’t life threatening but still scary. Javier made sure he took his medication on time. 

He didn’t, he got sick again, how could he know? 

He finally called home and he was already buried. His father had to do it alone. 

That's when Javier decided to see Dr. Hertz again.

“Will you be continuing sessions back home?” Dr. Hertz had a furrow in her brow since the beginning of the session. Since told her about the resignation, about the death, about how fucking stressful it is to pack. He wonders if she’ll miss him.

“Are you still married?” He uncrosses his legs and ashes his cigarette on the tray next to his seat. Dr. Hertz has dealt with him for nearly three years. She just waves off his flirtation, she calls it a defense mechanism. An attempt to change the topic, ease the waters with something he’s good at. She’s immune to his ways. 

She laughs, “Yes. I am. Will you? Continue, therapy I mean.” 

“Happily?” Javier tilts his head. Dr. Hertz doesn’t entertain him any longer. He chuckles, “Sorry. I’m not sure. I don’t think I want to tell my story all over again to another person. Or professional I guess. Sounds fucking exhausting.” 

She nods, lips in  a fine line like she’s holding back. Javier sighs in annoyance knowing that face well. “Just say it Hertz.”

“Well,” She closes her notebook and he knows he’s in for it. “I think that you have made significant progress in dealing with your past. With your mother, with Andrea, with Lorraine. But life won't stop hurting you just because you worked some things out. And I know you. Very well. I know that the second you go home you’ll be contacting her.”

“Doctor I-”

“Nope. You know that's the truth. You might go home and she might be married, or pregnant or maybe you’ll come home and she’ll want you again. All of those realities come with struggle, and with change, and growth. You are capable, and very emotionally intelligent for a man your age so I’m not saying this to coddle you. But you should continue therapy, in any form. We all need to be heard. I don't care if it's bi-monthly. Or on and off for a few years. If everyone had a therapist we all wouldn’t have such a hard time handling the ups and downs of life.” She crosses her legs and locks eyes with him. “But, do what you believe is best for you. I will miss having you as my patient.”

His eyes fall to his shoes because fuck. “You’re right. I’ll probably need a shrink for the rest of my life simply based on all the dead bodies I've seen before the age of thirty.” He chuckles but she doesn’t reciprocate. She just opens her book again and goes right back into what she does best. Getting him to talk. 

“Talk to me about the resignation.”

“It’s like cancer. This fucked up institution. You know, my uncle George had melanoma at first. There on his skin,” Javier points to his elbow. “On the surface, and yes it made him sick. They removed it, and made him go through that radiation therapy. And the solution was a good one for a few years, but until it wasn’t. He was more susceptible to other cancers and years went by, and it was just everywhere. His blood, his colon. Topical solutions just don’t work like that. The sickness was systemic.” He leans back into his chair, legs spread. He hoped he wasn’t in pain. “Me, Murphy…” He pauses and thinks of the casket. “Carillo… we can’t be the medication. We don’t work. We haven’t worked. I’m aware, and I couldn’t be quiet about it. So whatever, I’ll take their hush money.” It was a lot. He can start working on the house he always said he’d build on the ranch this spring. He could have months of relaxation. Maybe get a degree, something.  “I’m a part of the problem too I guess.”

“You’re human. You deserve to breathe. We worked together for a long time and you still haven’t learned how to give yourself grace”

It was what he needed to hear. She has said it a million times but today it stuck. 

He’ll be home for the holidays.

“Are you in the right headspace to see your mom?”

“Is anyone ever in the right headspace to see their parents?” 

You sit on the floor of your bedroom, folding clothes. Honestly, you haven't spent a Christmas at home in years. You had no intention of heading back to Laredo until spring break. But you heard about the passing of George Peña. You hadn’t known the man but you knew that many of the Peña holidays were spent up at his home. It won’t be that way anymore and you’d love to visit him for this holiday. Bring him a gift, be there for him how he’s been there for you. 

Of course, you’ll go home. Your bedroom has a new bed for guests, so says your mother. You’ll see if maybe she’s interested in spending time with you. You don’t even think you’re going to try. You’re still curious if maybe she will.

Jaya walks to your calendar. “So you’ll be back… January 3rd?”

“Mhm.” You stretch out your leg with a wince. You had the nastiest scrape on your knee from this morning. You knew it’ll dry and crust by the time you get to Texas. 

In a rush to catch the subway today you tripped on the last stair and split right through your tights. You tried not to cry when you settled into the cart with blood trickling down your stocking. 

Jaya, who was already preparing her house sitting duties, placed cream on the scrape. 

She offered to stay at your place while you go back to Texas. Which means liberal use of her spare key to your apartment even before you leave. Crashing at your place after drinks with her boyfriend in your neighborhood. Or just showing up. But hey, she’s your best friend and she’ll be watching your birds for free. 

“I took two extra days off. Mr.Fyre will be covering for me.” You side eye her in anticipation for her questions. She smirks at you with a head shake. 

She rolls over in your bed, “That poor man. His dick still big?” 

You blush, “Yes. Too bad he finishes after ten seconds. Last week he was fucking me right there.” You point to the dresser and Jaya widens her eyes. “And he came the second he put it in. It was kind of hot. He fingered me afterwards so I forgave him.”

Mr. Fyre, Gregory Fyre. The hot new 24 year old substitute that you’ve been sleeping with for two weeks. He came in right after you cut it off with Christian. He walked in that teachers lounge and asked you to stop talking so loudly. The two of you ended up making out in the parking lot. 

He had you there on the dresser, knuckle deep in your cunt. While you tense your stomach and picture another face in front of yours. Gushing on his palms in ten seconds. 

Yeah. You’re fucked. 

At the very least he’s a man who can take a hint. So it’s been fun and easy. Easy to get off and you know, bye, get off now. 

“Your sex life is so interesting. Did he question why you were moaning the name Javier?”

You giggle tossing your panties at her. She catches it and twirls it on her finger before flinging it back at you. “That was one time, many months ago with Christian.” You cringe, “So it does not count.” 

Jaya sits up again, her face changing slightly. Here brows knitting and her eyes scanning the room. The habit of no eye contact that comes before she says something you don’t want to hear. Which happens more than you’d expect. She kept it real. You tilt your head at her gesture. “What if he’s there this time?” 

Brows lifting slightly you look back down at the dress in your lap and you continue to fold. You shrug. “He hasn’t been there every other time so-“

“You would purposely go home on random days of the year. It’s Christmas, Escobar's dead and you told me his uncle just passed.”

You frown at the realization. Washed over with reality. You know he hasn’t come home at all yet, you’re sure his job just doesn’t stop because Escobar is gone. But if it was anytime to visit , it would be now. You don’t respond and just place the dress in the luggage. “Will you be okay to see him?” 

“Yes?” She gives you a crazy glance and you can't even convince yourself.

“No. I don’t know. I'm not like angry at him because somehow his decision was a good one. I feel like… if he asked me to see him that day I would have never left town. Which by the way, has been the best decision ever.” You smiled at her and she smiled back. 

“So there’s no hard feelings.” She says it like it's bad. 

You know exactly why it could be a disaster. It's impossibly difficult to be angry at a person that could die at any moment in their line of work.

She continues to read you like a book. 

“It would be extremely easy to fall back into him when the only emotion you feel is sadness and longing.” You nod because she was always right. It would be so easy. So easy to find comfort in each other. So easy to see him and-“Whatever you do just promise me you won’t forget about your life here.”

You narrow your eyes and extend a pinky to her. 

She leans over the bed and you interlink. Sun peaks through your window and warms the two of you.

It’s the same sun. 

He knows it. 

It's the same. He knows you sit and feel it too. He can see you, looking outside the fire escape of your apartment. The sun offers you warmth in thirty degree weather. He does the same except it isn't so cold. It’s warm all around, hot even. He shares a sun with you and still feels like it's different. He misses you so badly that the thought of being warmed by the same star offers him a comfort beyond comprehension. 

Look where life has taken us. 

Javier is at the steps of the place he called home for a few years. All his belongings already ahead of him, delivered at the footstep of his fathers ranch. 

In less than a day, he’ll be dropped there just the same. Murphy has come to see him before he goes and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Javier clears his throat, afraid to reveal himself. He was an open wound, a live wire. Afraid to come home and not see you. Even more terrified to come home and see you. 

“You tell Connie?” He asks. Murphy sniffles, holding his fists together. 

“That you're leaving?”

Javi nods, “Yeah.”

Murphy exhales, “Yes. She said it was the right choice. Then told me to break the rules so I could come back too.” He laughs a hearty one and Javier follows, rubbing his chin. It was professional, sure, but Steve and Connie became like family during his years. They were older, had their shit together, they were making it work. Connie could read Javi. She was the reason he decided to just go to see someone. “Maybe I should. Olivia can walk now. Can you believe that?”

Javier purses his lips with an exhale. “Jesus.” What he wouldn't give to have a family with you. He’d leave it all, all over again at least. He’d ruin his name, leave in the most dishonorable way if it meant coming back to you and his baby. It's silent again and it's too late. His thoughts betray him. You're all he can think about. You hated the holidays with your family. There was no way you’d choose to just come home now. 

The silence rang loud. Loud enough for Steve to hear his thoughts. 

“You’ve got to talk to that girl. Don’t waste anymore time.”

“She wont want to.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she's stubborn. Because I abandoned her when that's all she knew.”

Murphy shook his head , tapping his knuckle on the step between his legs in frustration and turned to Javi. “But you didn't. You let her go. You needed to. She needed to heal in her own way. You needed help, you fucking got it.” Murphy’s lips twitch. “And listen man, I know we made that pact two years ago. If you go, I go. When it came to therapy, I stopped going to that shit after 2 months.”

Javi’s jaw drops, brows furrowing. He was almost there, on the verge of tears but there Murphy goes. Making him laugh. “What?”

“Yup. And I’ve been lying to you because I saw something in you change-”

“You fucking asshole.”

“You’re fucking welcome Agent Peña.”

Javi scoffs with a chuckle and reaches in his pocket for his pack. “Yeah whatever.” 

“Yeah yeah. If all the stories you told me about that girl are true, there is no way she isn’t waiting for you.” 

“I didn’t wait.” There it is, that guilt he felt for years. The guilt he felt after finding pleasure with others. The stomach churning pain that came with being forehead to forehead, breathless, coming down, and opening his eyes and seeing a face unfamiliar.

Murphy shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. None of that matters.”

A beep has the two flinching. Looking up at the taxi. Javier's heart is suddenly loud enough to ring his ears. The two stand to their feet and hug. Tightly, a brotherly hold he isn;t used to but welcomes. “Sorry If I was ever-”

Murphy shakes his head, “Don't worry about all of that. Make sure you check in on my girls.” They part and Javier nods like it's his duty. “And you know. Be kinder to yourself and just…” He pats his shoulder, “Just reach out to that fucking girl.” Javier feels the pat like a push, like a shove. 

Then he goes on his way, thinking of you like he does.

Melissa Diaz knows that it’s too late and frankly she feels like she’s too old to repair her relationship with her daughter. Each time you come home there's a thick air of discomfort. Like you're a stranger in your childhood home. Each conversation is laced with the unspoken toxicity that is your relationship with your mother. Too many years of hurt just to speak comfortably. 

Which is precisely why you decide to get a hotel room this time around. 

You unpack what you can, glancing at the clock to figure out if you have time to shave before driving to your moms. You promised to help her bring the gifts to Chucho’s house tonight. You had only flown in 5 hours ago. You decided those 5 hours were for your own mental preparation. 

The truth is, when you remove yourself from a toxic environment the second you get back you realize that your tolerance is close to none. So you decide to not only stay away but also give yourself time to brace yourself so you don’t ruin Christmas. 

And this Christmas was different. It was for Don Chucho. You knew that he’ll be over the moon to see you. Thrilled to have the kids running around his house. Javier always said that Chucho would have had 10 children if life hadn’t gotten in the way. He loved the holidays but now that his only family is gone, you knew you had to be here. You had an hour so you scurry to the bathroom and shave, wash the New York off of you and step out a true Texas girl. 

Black sweater dress and stockings rubbing against your split open knee. Chanting, fuck, fucking fuck, fucker, fuck when rolling the thing on. Spritzing yourself in the orange blossom of Night Musk by Prince Matchabelli. Feeling strangely anxious to spend the holidays back home. There was a sense of excitement to see your siblings and niece. Excitement to watch the kids open gifts, yet splitting nerves at the thought of being back on the Peña ranch. 

Excited to drink Coquito, listen to Hector Lavoe, dance and eat. 

You grab your purse, grab the sack containing all the gifts you accumulated for your family over the month and head out to your car. 

You get to your mothers house in fifteen short minutes, not even given time to get into the house and say hello before she’s out on the steps very frantic. Cursing in Spanish about Sol staining her dress. James, not taking anything seriously as always, unloading the Christmas gifts into the trunk of your rental and kissing your cheek welcoming you back home. You hardly had a relationship with your mothers husband, sometimes you wondered how a dynamic like theirs worked. He was a reserved, ultra-relaxed and goofy guy. Your mother, a tornado of frantic emotions and anxiety. It seems he was never phased by all of it. Maybe a part of you envied it. Envied being loved enough to be accepted. 

Your four year old sister seemingly unphased as well by Melissa’s tirade while she’s on her knees at the doorstep wiping ice cream from her red dress. Sol zeroed in on you, waiting for her mother to quit the distressed cleaning so she could run to hug you. Her knees buckling and moving from side to side in anticipation. “Stop all the moving.”

“But it’s my sister!” She whines and you smile at her with arms crossed at the side of your rental. Your mother sighed and let her free. She patters against the driveway in tiny black flats and into your arms.

Disfunction and all, you head to Chucho’s house. Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes ringing loud on the local station. Not a flake on the ground, fifty degree weather, Frankie’s car trailing behind, homes and picket fences littered in green and red.

 Christmas in Laredo was in full swing. 

The moment you notice that Don Chucho’s driveway was full you begin to panic. 

The second you park, Genie crowds your car. Little Annie’s face squished against her mothers shoulder. Asleep already. You hop out of the car and pull her into a hug that stirs the baby. “Sorry!” You whisper, a December breeze causing a rise of hair. Your brother joining in on the hug. 

“Merry Christmas.” He whispers, kissing your cheek and his daughters who stirs again. A little girl, too big to be carried but he grabs her anyway. Spoiled little thing. “All of Chucho’s friends are here already apparently. The whole town is in there.” He laughs and you furrow your brows.

“Amazing.” You deadpan. Of course, what could you expect from a Christmas Eve in your hometown. A place where everybody's family is yours even if they don’t like you. You nod and look around to see if everyone is ready to head in, hoping they weren’t so you could breathe. But when you look up you see James picking up Sol and heading toward the house you knew you were running out of time. Frankie’s gaze is burning and he’s reading your body language like a book. How much has changed between the two of you. It took a marriage and a baby to understand you. You'll take what you can get because when he places his hand on your arm you feel the surge of courage.

Genie comes to your other side and you follow your mothers footsteps. 

Despite the Chucho house being a second home to your family, your mother still knocks. Even when the holiday music is so loud it bleeds through the windows covered in Christmas gel clings. She knocks politely, of course. Then pounds after a few seconds of silence. Making her fiance snort and Sol giggle. 

The door swings open, meeting a smiling Chucho whose eye’s haven't landed on you. “Que bueno! Feliz Navidad.” He brings your mother into a hug, then James, and tickles Sol. His eyes then fall to yours and he takes a step back. His brows furrowed for a moment and you wonder if he knows something you don’t. But then he smiles and pulls you into a hug at the doorway of his home. “Andrea, wow. I’m so– when did you get here?” His hold is tight and he smells like he’s been in the kitchen all day. He smells faintly of Javier. 

A smell you thought you forgot until you were hit so rudely with it. It creates a pit in your stomach that you know you can’t shake. He’s excited you can tell but his body language isn’t what you expected. 

“We're going to settle the girls in.” Frankie holds your shoulder for a moment and your family leaves you in the hall. You hear them in the next room giving excited hellos and cheek kisses. Giving you privacy in a crowded room. Still, with a face of worry, anticipating your response. 

“I flew in this morning. You know it’s the holidays.” Which meant nothing, considering you hadn’t stayed for Christmas in the past two years. You smile weakly, afraid of his reaction. Eyes shifting across your face and he lifts an arm to hold your own. Like he’s bracing you. 

His hat casts a shadow on his face in this dimly lit hallway. Behind his head is that god awful picture of you in your cap and gown. Surrounding it are baby pictures of Javier, Frankie and Genie at their wedding, images of his brother and Javier straight faced in police attire. “I didn’t know you were coming– I was going to call to tell you–”

“Papi, was it fifteen minutes for the artichoke?” 

You and Chucho both snap your heads at him. Your brain short circuiting. Chucho letting out a sigh and you so desperately want to let out a sob. Your chest rises and he’s staring at you with stars in his eyes. Fork in hand, hair overgrown and a Kiss The Cook apron. 

You gaze at Javier Peña after three difficult years. Three years of concern, of healing, of yearning. Of–of, fuck you can’t think. He’s here. He’s here and all you want to do is hug him. Wrap your arms around him and melt into one. 

But he’s there in between the cased opening of the kitchen and the living room. Stealing the attention of your family that havent seen him in just as long. Still, his brows furrow and he takes a step forward. “Andrea.” He doesn’t say it like a question, he says it like it’s been on the tip of his tongue for years. 

“Javi!” Your brother shouts from the living room and runs straight into him. Taking the attention from your body while it floats somewhere unknown. Genie follows, and your mother. Hugging, and kissing and questioning and shoving babies in his face. Still you stare and he looks over his shoulder at you and his father at the doorway. There, you float, unable to feel, zero gravity. Soaring with your feet on the ground and your heart pounds so loud you feel it in your ears. 

Chucho looks back at you. “He came home today too. If I knew-”

You frown, absolutely turning down whatever blame he must be putting on himself. “No-no. Please, it’s okay.” You wonder if other fragile things would like to be treated with less care. You suck in a sharp breath and nod. “I’ll– I just need a moment.” Your jaw clenches trying to prevent your emotions from steam rolling your logic.

Your emotions that tell you to cry and run into his arms. Or your logic that tells you to take a step back to remember the speech you practiced if you ever saw him again. You swallow and look up at him again and turn away. 

Javier watched you open the front door and walk out. His heart sinking, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg you to look at him for just more than three seconds. He tunes out the questions from everyone he loves. He’ll feel bad about it tomorrow. He looks up Genie who noticed his fixation on the front door you just stepped out of and she presses her lips together and tilts her head toward the door. 

Javier takes the olive branch. He just needs to talk to you. Even if you tell him to go fuck yourself or slap him, or spit in his face. He’ll invite it in. Accept it. Accept anything if it’s coming from your dear hands or delicate mouth. You rot him from the inside out, spoiled love for him. He can’t love anyone else. So it’s worth a try. 

He steps away from the chattering circle with a murmur of, one second, and he walks out of the house. 

The brisk December air cools his cheeks instantly. Christmas time is strange. Its the only holiday that has a distinct feeling. A feeling of stress, comfort, and emptiness only served with a red bow and yellow lights. He expects to find you right on the porch but you're at the bottom of the stairs. Arm supporting your elbow while you bite your thumbnail nervously. The string lights on the porch roof illuminating your beautifully made up face, and the tears that came with it. 

Javier stands at the top, afraid to speak. Twirling the stupid fucking fork in his hand. Feeling like an idiot in his outfit. I would have dressed nicer if I knew you’d be here. You look just as beautiful, different, but still. Your natural curls framing your face, black dress high up on your neck and stockings connecting to black boots. Please speak to me. 

You wipe your tears and turn your chin up. Strong girl. Arms crossed, you begin your interrogation, 5 steps between you. “How are you home?” Not a quiver in your voice.

He fights the urge to just ignore your question and run down those stairs and kiss you, wipe your tears, take you away. But he decided to stop being selfish years ago so he answers. “I resigned two weeks ago. I’m back home indefinitely.” He clears his throat. “Forever- I’m back here forever- I mean.” He rasps and you don’t hide your shock. Still you hold composure, eyes gaping a bit but shrinking in an emotion he can't read. Your brows furrow. 

Licking your lips, “Your turn.”

Javier’s brows knit closely, “My turn–?”

“Your turn.” Gesturing for him to continue. “You ask a question.”

“Andrea– can we please-”

“No- This is how I want to do it. So we can fucking get back inside and enjoy Christmas.”

Don’t you know I can't seem to enjoy anything if you aren’t mine? 

“Are you single?” It’s his first question and you scoff. He shrugs, finding no shame. He needs to know now, before he becomes too hopeful. Before he creates a mess because let's be real, if she’s seeing someone, she won't be after this week.

“Yes. Did you really see a therapist in Colombia?”

Javier smirked, pleased to know that you asked about him. Still you don’t crease at his growing smile. So he bites it back because it looks like you want to rip his head off. “Yes. I went every Thursday for almost three years. She’s finding me a new one in our area.”

“She?”  You snap. 

And lord forgive him for how the blood rushed to his dick. All of this felt like the conversation you had in 1986 when he came home. He hopes this Christmas ends with you pinned against his bedroom door and him telling you that he will do anything to make it work. His chin juts in a mocking way, playing with fire. “You jealous?”

Your nostrils flare. “You fuck her?”

“Eh. My turn.” He reminds you of the rules of your own game. You purse your lips and he likes to way they pout. “Are you mad at me for asking you not to come see me after the wedding?” It's the question that haunted him. He begged forgiveness from no one, torturing himself for pushing you away. Hoping you understood his intentions and didn’t see it as an invitation for you to stay away forever. But the more time that past, more days of no calls from you, he feared that maybe he fucked it all up.

Your eyes drop. Allowing the sounds of Christmas bells and chatter fill the wind between you two. 

“I was angry for a brief amount of time. Then I just felt sad for you. Because I know–” There it was, the crack. “I know you were put through so much and you didn’t want me to pick up the pieces. I would have you-” You look up at him, cheeks stained now. And he knows.

“You would have. I couldn’t let that happen again. I was tired of hurting you.”

“My hands are still scarred. I’ll re-open any wound for you.” 

His gums itch and his chin quivers at that. “Do you still feel that way?” He breaks the rules and you don’t seem to care anymore. 

“Of course. It's hard being angry at someone who is so far–who was putting their life on the line of their work. Javi– I’d get so sick from worry-” Fuck it, he takes those steps down to you. Cradling your soft face in his hands, thumbs brushing away tears. You fade into him. “I missed you so much.”

“Andrea, I missed you. None of my colleagues liked me because I was so riddled with grief.” He leans in so close, so close he could see the small freckles that hide in the winter. “I didn’t even want to try to get to know anyone.” He thinks of the faceless women that took him to a climax before they were on their way. Sadistically, he hoped you at least found comfort in someone. 

You close your eyes and he leans in to kiss you. You turn your face, rejecting him but he doesn’t care. He kisses your cheek in earnest and tastes your tears. Planting soft kisses up your cheek.

 “Are you seeing anyone?” 

He pauses his kisses and chuckles. “No.”

“Okay.” Eyes, opening you get on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Nails entangling in the back of his hair and he’s in heaven. What a privilege it is to be touched by you. Kissing his cheek yourself. “I won't kiss you.”

He was in heaven, your soft lips nipping at his face and his neck. He groans, “That's okay.” You nod against him. Moving your head to the other side of his face, exposing your neck while you kissed his face. He presses his lips to your neck. 

“I need time…” You moan, “To think.” Your nails scrape the nape of his neck and he’s getting harder each passing second. How the fuck did I end up here? 

“That’s okay– When do you go back– fuck don’t press up on me like that.” Her belly caused a friction in his pants that would definitely spoil the holidays.

“January third– sorry.” You suck on his neck and he groans once more. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

“Yes.” He says it like it was a no brainer because it was. Whatever mess came with this, he was fully equipped this time. Nothing holding him back. Besides the fact that she lives in fucking New York of course. You pull back from him and he feels the pit in his stomach grow darker and deeper. No, come back, bite me. 

“Not like that. I just want to be in bed with you.” 

He shrugs, he’ll take whatever he can get. “That's okay. My place or–”

“I have a hotel.”

He shakes his head, craning his head to press his lips against your ear. “If we get into that hotel room I’ll have no choice but to fuck you into that mattress.” he whispers but he means every word. He doesn't care if it’s too fragile to be this forward.

“Your place then.” You step away from him and he feels a great loss in his soul. Eyes roving to the door. “We are being suspicious. We should go inside.”

“I’m not hiding anything this time. If you want to use me for this week as a sleeping companion or a fuck toy or I don’t know a mortal enemy I’ll take it and everyone can mind their fucking business.” Javier snaps, he doesn’t care if you're just making an irrational decision because you miss him. He fucking misses you too, if it means two weeks of playing house- so be it.

Dr. Hertz would be so disappointed. 

“Or… Maybe just a friend.” You lie straight through your teeth and he lets you. You straighten your dress and wipe the remaining tears on your cheek and walk right past him. 

“Wasn’t it you that told me that you didn’t know how to be my friend in the winter?”

 It rings out in the air. He can picture it, Christmas eve 1979. You half asleep at The Smithfield’s Christmas party. You had been so jittery and distant. His idiot teenage brain couldn’t comprehend that the love you had for him made you act outside yourself, especially since for the first time ever you watched him show love to another girl. 

Your lips twitch in a smile, seemingly shocked that he remembers just as much as you. 

“Merry Christmas.”

[pinkroseblooms]

It's Better Than Regretting

Kikaku Hanbee/f!Reader, post break up, mentions of sex and some light dirty talk (once again, minors dni) probably a little OOC but I tried. This fandom needs more content and this crazed witch like man has a place in my heart. The title is lyrics from "Crashed the Wedding" by Busted which was what inspired me to write this. Summary: Post breakup, Kikaku finds out you've agreed to a marriage of convenience. word count: 4.1k

Kikaku feels the wedding invite burning a hole in his pocket; he takes a long drink of beer, wondering for the tenth time if this is a mistake. The two of you broke up; he and you wanted different things out of life. So what if his parents were friendly with your old man? No one expected the two of you to end up together. In fact, Kikaku had been made all too aware of your father’s disapproval of him. When you got your first piercing, when you got drunk for the first time and missed an exam, when you started staying out all hours of the night frequenting different music venues, the blame was placed squarely on Kikaku’s shoulders for being a bad influence on his perfect princess.

It was always like that; your father would say he was only looking out for you, but Kikaku called it how it actually was; all he was doing was forcing his own expectations onto his only daughter. You had come to him many times, complaining about the feeling of suffocation, wondering how you were supposed to call the man “family” when you couldn’t even talk to him half the time without walking on eggshells. Kikaku didn’t have any answers, aside from telling you “Fuck that shit” and take you out for a good time. 

Eventually, inevitably, the two of you transitioned from friends to friends with benefits; sitting and nursing his beer, Kikaku tries to shove the memory out of his head to no avail. How could he forget? His band had played one of their first shows and barely anyone had showed up, and the people that did hated them. 

You had been the only friendly face at the bar, toasting to him at the end of their set with a sympathetic smile. None of his other girls were answering his texts; you were there and the two of you had a little too much to drink at his place. When the other members left and it was just you and him, Kikaku let you hug him; according to you, he looked like he really needed one, but that wasn’t all he needed. Your body was soft and your breath smelled sweet and sharp from the plum wine. Before Kikaku could communicate to his brain that his dick was acting up around you and it would be a bad idea to act out on this sudden urge, you had kissed the top of his head and squeezed him to your chest. Kikaku can’t remember too much of what happened afterward, only flashes and sensations and waking up in the morning with a raging migraine and you laying nude on the futon next to him. 

It was a good thing the two of you had for a long time until the day you had come back to his apartment and refused a make out session with a serious expression. Kikaku could have guessed the problem; it was always the problem with his main girls. They got too close, too attached, even though Kikaku really didn’t make much of a secret that he wasn’t into the whole exclusive thing. Frankly, he didn’t think what the two of you had was special. You just had the benefit of knowing him the longest and being his friend first. 

That being said, you never showed signs of jealousy or feeling hurt by Kikaku’s other lovers, so he really hadn’t expected that to be the reason you decided to end things officially and not just the sex, but everything. No more shows or take out or movie nights. No more being friends; you called it being amiable. When you crossed paths, you would say hello and engage in a little small talk. Nothing more, nothing less. Kikaku accepted without making a fuss; he was in a shitty mood for a while but hey, getting dumped is never fun.

“Is that why you ended things?” Kikaku cut right to the chase as soon as you took the stool next to him; he slid the card over to your coaster, like it was some distasteful object. “You wanted to make things serious with this guy?”

“Hello to you too. How did you get this? Oh no, just water please.” You told the bartender, who had just come over to take your order. “Kikaku, my father sent this to your parents; how did you get it?”

“Wow, you weren’t even planning to invite an old friend to such a grand occasion?” Kikaku grumbles. “Cold. I thought you said no hard feelings.”

“I heard you were busy with work; besides, since when do you enjoy going to formal parties?” You give him a wry half smile. “Unless there’s an open bar.”

“Is there?”

“Yes. Father spared no expense.” You hold your glass of water but don’t take a drink. “He set up the whole thing. I didn’t even have to worry about picking out a dress. It’s all been decided.”

“What, did he pick out the groom too?”

Kikaku snorts but your smile is nowhere to be seen; you take the invitation and push it over to him. 

“I know it’s short notice, but I’d like your parents to come if they can. They’ve always been good to me; they’ve treated me more like a daughter than he ever did.” You tell him softly. “I must look pretty lame to you, huh? Letting my father marry me off and domesticate me. Is that why you called? Did you want a good laugh?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Kikaku turns so quickly in his seat, he nearly knocks over his now empty glass. “I was joking: did your old man really pick the guy out? What, did he send out a resume or something?”

“He works at the same company; we’ve met a few times. His name’s Kenji Hazawa. He needs a wife and my father needs me to settle down. A match made in heaven.”

“So? What is wrong with you?” Kikaku’s eyes scan your face, hardly believing the words coming out of your mouth so casually. “You’re gonna let your dad marry you off to some asshole you don’t even like?”

“Stop. I do not need you, of all the people in the fucking world judging my decisions.” You fix him with a cold stare. “I gave it to you for free. You know what I get with Kenji? A comfortable life and my father finally off my back. I get freedom.”

“How?! How the hell is selling yourself to the highest bidder-?”

“I knew you wouldn’t understand. It’s why I never told you. That's why I stopped talking to you.” You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “You just don’t get it, Kikaku. I’m a single woman nearly past her expiration date, father’s words not mine, and no one is letting me hear the end of it. I’m done fighting against it all by myself.”

“You don��t have to do this. He can’t force you.”

“It’s already decided. I just have to walk down the aisle and say ‘I do’ and I never have to worry about money or being looked down on again. Sweet deal, isn’t it? Sorry. I guess I’m not the cool badass bitch I thought I was.” You roll your eyes and suck in a breath of air. “I tried doing it my way and what did I get? My father is ready to disown me, everyone in my life is treating me like a joke, minus your folks.”

“I never-”

“No, no, I wasn’t a joke to you. I was a good time.” You correct yourself. “Well, now I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted and weak, alright? There, I admit it. I’ve been on my own in this and I’m sick and tired of it all. Is it really that different than you giving up music professionally for your merchandising job?”

“My job doesn’t fuck me.” 

The sentence slipped out before Kikaku could filter himself; but it’s true, isn’t it? Won’t your husband expect you to perform your wifely duties? Kikaku’s nails dig into his palms; he can’t get the image out of his head, a faceless man, on top of you, taking you as though you’re his. You might get pregnant. 

“How is this happening? She’s mine…she was mine.”

“It sounds like your job fucks you plenty.” You take a sip of water. “So, is that your issue? You won’t have the chance to get in my pants again if I’m spoken for?”

“Stop changing the subject, this isn’t about me.”

“It’s always about you.” 

Kikaku glares at you, but somehow can’t bring himself to truly be angry; you’re being so despondent and resigned. The person sitting next to him might as well be a stranger. The fire is gone from your eyes and the sly quirk of your lips is nowhere to be seen. But then, maybe that was just the face you showed him. Kikaku can’t even defend himself and say you hadn’t made him aware of what you were going through. You had, multiple times, for years. He just wasn’t taking it to heart. At some point, you apparently decided to pull back entirely. 

“Look, I don’t want to fight. I don’t hate you, Kikaku. This isn’t your business and I never meant for you to even know about the damn wedding. I’m going to get married next week and it’ll be okay. Kenji is a good man; we get along enough. We both know it’s a marriage of convenience.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your dull eyes. “Who knows? Maybe somewhere down the line we could fall in love. Either way, we’ll be content. It’s more than most people get to have.” 

“This is fucking crazy. You’re crazy.” Kikaku is hunched over the bar counter; his voice is shaking. He can’t look at you; all he can do is stare blankly at the wood panel. “You can’t be happy with this. I don’t believe that for a second.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking for your blessing.” You put a few bills on the table. “Here, I still owe you for the last time we got drinks. You might not believe it, but I’m doing what’s best for me. I’m living my life for me. It’s my choice to do this, to make it all a little easier.”

“Is that the logic you’re using? Give up something to gain something you want more?” Kikaku leaves the bills on the counter, untouched. “Is it really worth it? Is this really what you want?”

“That’s also none of your business.” Despite your words, your tone is almost kind; with a faint smile, you stand up and push in the stool. “Have a goodnight, Kikaku.”

No. You can’t leave now, not like this. That smile is as fake as they come. Kikaku knows what your fake smiles look like; he’s always been able to tell how you’re feeling. He might not have been much of a comfort on your bad days, but he knew when you were having them, and he would try to make it a little better. 

When did that stop? It wasn’t his intention to make you feel uncared for. Kikaku might have played around, but it didn’t make his feelings for you any less. He was just caught up in other things. He had no idea you were having that hard of a time. 

You walk away and Kikaku doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t yell or leap from his chair to drag you from the door. He can’t feel his legs. You’re getting married. You’re going to be someone’s wife. He’ll never be able to make up with you. It’s over. You’re not going to give him the second chance Kikaku hadn’t even realized he had been hoping for. 

“She’s really gone. It’s really over. She’s getting married.” Kikaku mutters to himself. “She’s getting married and I…I can’t do anything to stop it.”

“Hey don’t worry so much. Most marriages end in divorce.” The bartender comes over to collect the empty glasses. “I got married twice and we were actually in love. Besides, if it’s a marriage of convenience, maybe you can be her side piece.”

“Huh?” Kikaku glowered up at the man smiling placidly down at him. “Who the fuck asked you?!”

“Just trying to offer some comfort. I thought you guys weren’t serious anyway. How drunk are you? Don’t you recognize me?” 

“Uh…”

“Nekota? This is my bar; it has been a while, but you came here a few times with a couple of my buddies.” 

“Oh right. Usao-kun and Kumao-kun’s old friend.” Kikaku recalls. “My bad, I was…I’m kinda out of it today.” 

“I could tell. That seemed rough. Want something stronger? On me, but just this once; still gotta make those child support payments after all, haha.” Nekota laughs good naturedly as he pulls down a bottle of tequila from the middle shelf. “Hey, that’s something to drink to; you’re a young bachelor, you’ve got plenty of time to settle down if you want to.”

Settle down? Kikaku never wanted to settle down; that was why things didn’t work between him and you in the first place. He has no right to feel so deflated. 

Was there some secret part of him that hoped you would eventually come back? Well, contrary to Nekota’s assurances, Kikaku doesn’t have time. You’re going to be married in a week. You’ll be someone else’s. He won’t have a place in your world, not any more, not when you’re going to be somebody's beautiful, blushing bride. 

“She doesn’t even love him. How can she do this?”

“Come on, Kikaku, right? Here, have a drink and relax.” Nekota beckons with his hand and sets down the shot of tequila. “The little lady said so herself, it’s not your problem.”

“No. I guess it’s not.”

Nekota is right and Kikaku doesn't need a two time divorcee to lecture him on matters of the heart. You had every right to go and marry another person, for whatever reason. Kikaku isn't even your friend anymore and he's certainly not your boyfriend. You don't owe him a thing and it's not his place to step in and try to convince you to not go through with a sham marriage. You've chosen your path and he's chosen his. All he can do now is toast to your nuptial and hope for the best. He can do that much for you.

"To the bride and groom." 

"Here, here!" Nekota clinks his own shot glass with Kikaku's. "Good man, you're gonna be just fine."

"Cheers." Kikaku slurs and downs his shot in one large swallow. "Here's to the whole thing goes off without a hitch."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you take this woman, to have and to hold, to-”

“I OBJECT! NO ONE SAY ANOTHER DAMN WORD, I OBJECT!!!”

It took Kikaku two hours to get up that morning; he had been drinking into the late hours of the night in a last ditch effort to make sure he wasn't able to be mobile today off all days. Even now, dressed sloppily in an old suit, hair hastily tied back and eyes sunken in with sleep deprivation, he feels like he’s running in a dream. The venue is quaint but tastefully decorated in pastels. There’s not many guests; he supposes your father wanted to get the wedding done with little fanfare. The objective was to tie you down, not throw a celebration. 

“Son of a bitch.” Your father is the first one to rise; he addresses you angrily. “Did you invite him?”

“N-no!” 

You look aghast, glancing rapidly between Kikaku as he comes barreling down the aisle and your soon to be husband. Kenji looks twice as confused and a little scared, which is fair, considering how haggard and demented Kikaku looks, like a twitchy spider rushing to catch its prey. You hadn’t heard a peep from Kikaku since that night and his parents had politely turned down your invite, as they had a previous engagement they were committed to attend. It was a good thing they couldn’t, because you’re certain both Kikaku’s mother and father would keel over and die from the spectacle their son is currently making of himself. 

“I said, I object!” 

"Heavens above." The priest frowns. “Not another one.”

“WILL YOU SHUT UP?” It’s a wonder Kikaku can yell so loudly when he’s barely breathing; there’ sweat stains at his collar and the underarms of his blazer. “You can’t marry these two-they shouldn’t be married!”

“Who the heck are you?” Kenji’s brows furrow and he looks at you questioningly. “Do you know this guy?”

“Yes.” You sigh. “Kikaku, you’ve been drinking, haven’t you? I could smell you from the doors. Didn’t I tell you this wasn’t any of your business?”

“I don’t care! Dammit, I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry it took me so long to get my head out of my ass, but this isn’t about me.” Kikaku finally manages to speak without gasping. “I get it. You’re tired of dealing with your father’s bullshit and you think this is the only way out, but it’s not.”

“I’m calling the police!” Your father’s face is red and he looks ready to run up to the podium and deck Kikaku in the face. “How dare you? Haven’t you done enough? You weren’t good enough for her then and you sure as hell aren’t now.”

“Dad, you don’t need to call the police,” You look at him pleadingly. “Kikaku will leave on his own. He knows this is what I want.”

“No it’s not.” 

“Dammit, will you leave already!?” You’re the one raising your voice now; hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Why, Kikaku? Why are you doing this to me? Are you just upset because I won’t be available anymore? Well, too bad. Go play with one of your girlfriends and stop making a scene.”

“I’m sorry. I'll say it as many times as I have to.” Kikaku steps forward until he’s standing in front of you. “I’m sorry for not listening. I’m sorry it took me this long to get it, but you don’t have to get married.”

“What? Is this your idea of a proposal or something?”

“I don’t deserve you either. I should have been there more. I can be.” Kikaku looks at you, exhausted, desperate. “Don’t do this. Let me be there for you like I should have been all this time. You don’t have to fight on your own, not anymore. I’ll never leave you alone again.”

You blink and tears drip down your cheeks. “Kikaku,”

“I sent out messages to all the girls I was seeing last night. Look at my contact list.” Kikaku takes his phone out of his pocket and shows you the screen; his contact list only has a handful of names, people you recognize as family and work colleagues and friends. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, just…don’t marry this guy.”

“Kikaku, you’re being absolutely-!”

“Hey,” Kenji begins tentatively. “I think he makes a few good points.”

“What?” You turn to stare at your fiance. “But, I agreed to this.”

“It’s not like we’re in love.” Kenji cracks a begrudging smile. “It could’ve been nice but something tells me that’s not going to cut it.”

“I’m…I couldn’t just-”

“Also, your friend’s kinda freaking everyone out and I’m a little scared he’s going to put a curse on me.” Kenji glances at Kikaku. “You couldn’t have showered before coming to take the bride away?”

“You-!” Kikaku grabs your hand. “Just for that, you’re cursed! Everyone’s cursed! I hope the open bar is worth it assholes!” his eyes soften as he looks at your stricken face. “Can we talk somewhere more private? I think your old man is gonna kill me before the cops show up.”

You look at his hand; his palm is sweaty. 

“Please.” Kikaku’s voice is hoarse. “I won’t leave without you. I never want to go anywhere without you.”

“Damn you.” You’re really crying now. “You asshole.”

“Yeah.” Kikaku offers a weak smile; he glances down at your dress. “Oh. Wow.”

“Don’t say it.” You shake your head and wipe your eyes aggressively. “I know, it wasn't my choice.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Kikaku exhales and his grip on your hand tightens; he’s only just taking in the sight of you, dressed head to toe in a flowing white gown, dolled up and looking like an angel descended from heaven. 

Maybe he was full of shit because right now all Kikaku wants to do is take you away for himself. He brings a hand up to wipe the tears off your cheek; why do you look so sad? Is he really not wanted here? Is giving himself to you not enough?

“I’ve been a fucking mess all week.” Kikaku admits, eyes searching your face for any sign you don’t despise him. “I couldn’t sleep or eat or focus at work. I’m being shameless, you don’t have to tell me that. Maybe it’s too late for us, but I can still fix this. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Just tell me what I have to do.”

You’re blushing now under his intense stare. “...take me with you.”

“What?” Kikaku leans in to catch every word. “What do you want?”

“You. I want you, Kikaku. I want you to take me out of here.” You confess, trying not to whimper as his thumb rubs your hot cheek. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Say no more.”

You hike up your skirt and kick off your heels; Kikaku leads the way, the two of you ignore the shouts and gasps and threats being hurled your way by your father. Your eyes stay glued on the hand still clutching onto yours and you run, run, run until the car is in sight, decked out in flowers and a “Just Married” sign on the back. Kikaku opens the passenger side door and guides you into the backseat, even lifting the hem of your skirt so the door doesn’t close on it. The driver, rightfully skeptical and a bit horrified, practically throws the keys at Kikaku when he screeches for them. 

“I think everyone assumes you’re some sort of demon here to kidnap me.” You watch as the driver races up the steps of the venue, probably to explain why he’s left his post. “We’re going to have to return the car.”

“For now we drive,” Kikaku turns the keys, backs out of the parking space, and slams his foot on the gas. 

“This is fun for you, isn’t it?”

“A little.” Kikaku laughs, suddenly quite cheerful. “I’m relieved. I thought I was going to lose you…again. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m still on the fence about that.” You tell him warily, taking off your veil. “Did you really mean all that?”

“I might have lied a tiny bit about not wanting to steal you away. I want you for myself. I know it’s not fair to you, but that’s how I feel. I was going crazy.” Kikaku looks at you from the corner of his eye. “You look really good right now.”

“Thanks.” You adjust your seat belt. “Eyes on the road.”

“I want to fuck you in the dress.” Kikaku blurts out. “Let’s get a hotel and pretend we’re married to get a free bottle of champagne.”

“Aren’t you still hungover?”

“Hair of dog. Besides, this calls for a celebration.” Kikaku smirks a little. “I know it’s scary the first time, but I’ll be gentle with my pretty little bride.”

“Kikaku, was this all so you could play out some weird little fantasy?” You grumble. “I’m gonna jump out of this car and run back and see if Kenji will reconsider.”

“No! I was half joking…I just want you so bad.”

“Kikaku,” You cross your arms. “I mean it, I’m not in the mood for any teasing.”

“I meant it all. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” One of Kikaku’s hands leaves the steering wheel; his playful smile is gone. “Do you not want me anymore? I don’t expect you to believe in me, after everything…but do you want to try again?”

For a tense moment, Kikaku thinks his chest will explode; he might actually die if you say no, even if you have every right to reject him. But then you take his hand and interlock your fingers. You smile, a little exasperated, but it’s a real, genuine smile. It practically blinds him; Kikaku has half a mind to beg you to marry him then and there. There’s still time and Kikaku plans to use it making you fall in love with him so you never regret today.

“Yes.” You kiss the back of his hand and smile brighter than he’s ever seen. “I do.” 

[ohtobeleah]

LAST UPDATE HERE WE COME BESTIES

Alright besties here it is, please enjoy this final instalment of To Have & To Hold

Warnings: F-18 crash. Mentions of severe injuries. Unconscious. Angst. Jake Seresin x Wife!wife reader. Smut! Female oral receiving.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You know, I kinda miss the blonde a little.” You couldn’t see Jake's face but you knew that behind the brown moving box he was carrying into the newer, more modern house on base, he had a shit-eating grin plastered across his smug face. 

“You didn’t even recognise me with blonde hair—Mr Casinova.” You replied nonchalantly as you unpacked the box full of cutlery, plates, mugs and bowls. Reminding your husband how he tried to hit on you at the Hard Deck the first night you were in town. “But me too.” 

“How many times are you gonna make me apologise for that?” Jake sighed as he placed the box he’d need carrying down on the kitchen island. “At least it was actually you?” 

“Mmmm—“ Pressing your lips together as you pretended to think of an appropriate number. “Maybe like sixteen more times? Just to make sure you really get it through your thick head.” With Jake's permanent posting to North Island, he’d been moved into a new home. Something more permanent, more homely but a little more spacious. You wouldn't put it past your superiors to think that they had had the possibility of a family in mind when assigning him the hubble abode. It wasn't that a family with Jake was off the cards completely, it was just going to take a little longer and alot more effort than ever initially expected. 

Jake had asked his family to send over all his things from the storage unit in Austin that he’d packed up from his last base apartment. So once things had started arriving you were more than happy to lend a hand in helping him move in. Throwing on a comfy sundress just to potter around the house unpacking small bits here and there. 

Jake frowned playfully, moving around the bench to trap you between him and the countertop. Kissing your shoulder softly, leaving butterfly-like kisses against your skin. Enjoying the moment for a minute, you turned in his presence and without a single moment of hesitation, Jake was hosting you up onto the countertop. Standing between your legs as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to draw him close for a kiss. 

“What am I gonna do with you huh wifey?” Things couldn't have been better between you and Jake. You'd organised a few couples therapy sessions to make sure things stayed that way. Both of you decided amicably that talking about your grievances before that became full blown issues that could topple an empire needed to be spoken about in a safe environment. There was no shame in that. On the weekend you were both planning on going back to the spot you rewrote your wedding vows at to burn your divorce papers. It wasn't an option anymore, Jake was your forever decision and you were his. 

“I dunno hubby, but until you figure that out I guess you’re shit outta luck huh.” You taunted as Jake went in to kiss your neck, sucking against the Paudel point he knew drove you crazy every time. “Jake—we have boxes to unpack—“

“Fuck the boxes, they’ll be there when we’re finished.” It made your heart leap, Jake trailed his kisses from your neck to your jaw until he was making contact with your parted lips again. Soft needy moans escaped as your hands slid down from his shoulder to trace his chest, lingering slower and lower until finally you were palming him through his shorts. “Fuck baby.” 

“Hmm, you started it.” It wasn’t hard to get Jake riled up. You could feel him stiffening under your touch, his length straining against his shorts as he let out a soft sigh against your mouth. Tongue searching for yours as his hands came up to cup your cheeks. “It’s all fun and games until you’re straining against your briefs isn’t it Hungman.” 

“Okay that’s it—“ Jake was hungry and your attitude was feeding his cravings. Scooping you up off the counter, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist—holding on for dear life as Jake raced you through the living room and down the hall towards his bedroom. “So fucking cocky now she’s a Commander.” 

“Take it or leave it Lieutenant.” Kicking the door down to the bedroom, Jake threw you onto the mattress on the floor. He had yet to put together his bed frame, too busy with everything else going on around him. He could sleep on the floor for a few days. It didn’t bother him. What did bother him was the slight difference in your attitude. You’d always had one, especially with him—but now? The empowerment you felt had you projecting that attitude  into the world. Jake Seresin wasn’t complaining in the slightest bit. If anything he was addicted—he saw you glowing when he knew you were still struggling with your newly diagnosed fertility issues. “Think you need a lesson in respecting your superiors—“

“Don’t start with that shit with me baby.” Jake hissed as he dropped to his knees on the mattress. “You won’t like how it ends.” 

“Is that a threat?” You had to bite your bottom lip gently as Jake came towards you, hovering over you as you laid back on your elbows. Looking up in emerald eyes that swirled with all the different colours of green. Darker than normal as he drank in the sight of you beneath him. 

“More like a warning—“ Jake mumbled, he was rock solid against you and you knew you had him in the palms of your hands. 

“So if I asked you to eat me out would you defy those direct orders? Lieutenant Seresin?” It had become an easy game to play. There was a part of Jake Seresin that loved being in control—but there was also a part that craved being told what to do. He needed it. “Or would you eat me out like it was your last meal?” 

“Fuck you—“ 

“Please.” You whined as Jake connected his lips with yours in a fever dream way. Hungry and full of lust. You were driving him crazy—but he was into it, losing his mind as you worked to push down his shorts. The pair of Nikes moved ever so easily as Jake kissed a trail from your lips to your chin to the valley between your breasts, the strap of your sundress pulled down your shoulder until your bra was spilling out. “Jake—“ 

“I'm so lucky to have you Baby.” Jake cooed against your skin as he shuffled down the mattress, finding himself between your legs as he threw your legs over his shoulders. “But I’ve got orders—“ winking before his fingers were pulling at the fabric of your soaked panties—not even attempting to remove them gently, Jake just broke the fabric in half. 

“Hey!!” You protested the animalistic act, sitting up on your elbows once again only to be overcome with pleasure within a second as Jake delved into your core. Lapping away like he’d been deprived of hydration for days. “Oohhh—-fuckk.” 

“Where’d that cocky little attitude go Commander?” Jake smirked against your core as he felt your legs shaking around his shoulders. Paying all his attention to the little bundle of nurses as he slipped two thick fingers into your dripping cunt. Filling you just right as he began coaxing his fingers against your velvet walls. “Oh fuck you taste so good baby, like candy.” 

“Ahhhh—-yess!” Your hands were quick to find the sandy blonde locks of your husband’s hair. Tugging on the strands as you worked your hips in soft circles—grinding yourself against Jake's face. A little stubble had lightly dusted itself across Jake's cheeks and chin, having been off work for a few weeks he saw no need to shave daily. You weren’t complaining in the moment, not in the slightest bit. “Yesss—fuck keep going oh please keep fucking going, just like that.” 

It was his favourite meal, his favourite snack, his favourite dessert. Jake could eat you for eternity if were possible. His cock twisted against his briefs, a wet patch forming where the tip of his cock leaked out against the cotton. Soaking up his pre-cum as he used the edge of the mattress to release some built up pressure. 

“Jake! Ahhh fuck yes baby don’t stop—“ Your cried out as you threw your head up, letting your back arch up off the mattress as you pulled at Jakes locks. Keeping him as close to you as ever as his fingered coaxed your orgasm closer and closer. Feeling you clench and tighten around his soaked digits. “Mmmm, gonna cum! Gonna cu—“ 

Normally Jake would make you beg for it, he’d make you tell him how badly you wanted it, how much you needed him—but all Jake could care about right now was making you scream. He wanted your orgasm to take you to another Theon for a few seconds just so he could revel in the sight of you all fucked out because of him. 

“Cum for me beautiful, I got you—“ Jake cooed as he pulled his fingers in and out of you so fast his bicep strained and his tricep flexed. “I got you baby let go for me—“ 

“Aaahhhh! Oh god oh god ohhh god ooohhh goddd—!” It felt like a tsunami, your vision blurred for a split second as you forgot how to breathe, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you shook and clenched your knees around Jake's shoulders as he lapped away at your dripping cunt—feeling your clit pulse against his tongue. “Aahhh fuck!!” Breathing through the pleasure, Hake wiped his mouth and chin as he came up to lie beside you. Although you were spent, you rolled over, straddling his waist before dropping down to kiss his swollen lips. Tasting yourself.

“How about I return to favour?” 

“Might keep that new found attitude of yours at bay—“ Jake mumbled as he watched you discard your sung dress over your head. “Fuck, so beautiful.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” It was hard not to fall madly in love with your husband all over again. The last few weeks had been a roller coaster of emotions—but right now I’m this very moment everything just seemed worth it. Jake was worth it.

“Wrong—“ Jake held his left hand up to you, pointing at the tattooed wedding band on his ring finger. “It got me you—forever.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Hospitals always gave you the heebie-jeebies. They always seemed too sterile and too silent to be a real place. The walls were always too plain and the deafening silence made all the different monitors' sounds and sirens seem all the much louder. 

Knocking on the door as you stood in the threshold of Chaos’s Hospital room, you couldn’t help but to laugh as you took in the copious amounts of bouquets that littered the expanse of the hospital room that had become her home. Bradley Bradshaw was a menace to the flower shop down in the main lobby of the hospital. 

“Ah, Commander Seresin, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Chaos teased your new rank as you entered, holding up the bottle of Port you’d snuck past the nurses. Raising her eyebrows in pure excitement, Chaos beamed a bright smile. “Damn, don’t mind if I do.” 

“How you been doing?” You asked as you walked around to the empty chair beside her bed. For someone who’d just barely escaped death Chaos looked good. She was still in a sling for her collarbone, but the bruising had started to fade away. She was still facing a few more weeks in hospital though, you all knew it. She was tough but even the tough need time to heal.

“Eh, itching to get out of this bed I’ll tell you that.” Chaos was honest, you all knew she was dying to be well enough to be able to go home. She was itching for those discharge papers—she’d started to harass the doctors and nurses every day, hoping that if she was an annoyance enough that’s want her gone as soon as possible. “You just missed Rooster—“ Chaos shuffled herself up the bed a little. Fixing the pillow behind her back. “Sent him home for a damn shower.”

“Good thing I came to see you and not Bradshaw huh?” You chuckled as you popped the cork on the bottle of Port, pouring yourself and Chaos a very small class. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll deny it to my dying breath.” Pointing your finger as you handed the injured pilot who just needed someone to look at her as if she wasn’t a fractured version of her former self  the small glass. “I’m sure a few sips won’t kill you.”

“Worst adversities have tried.” Chaos joked before she downed the port as a shot, it certainly wasn’t intended to be drunk like that but nevertheless she handled it with grace, coughing slightly before gesturing for you to pour another glass. Which you did without hesitation, filling the glass before placing the bottle on the ground beside your chair—leaning back as you sighed. Looking up at the ceiling as if by some grace of whatever God was watching down you'd figure out all the answers yourself. “What’s up Hawks?”

“I got my new posting.” You hadn’t told Jake about the letter you’d received three days ago. You were still tossing up what you were going to do about it. With your new rank and your current position as one of the Navy’s best combat analysts, you had two choices. “And I know it’s probably selfish to ask the person stuck in a hospital bed for advice but I know you won’t sugar coat your opinion.” 

“What’s the posting?” Chaos asked as she sipped her port, not feeling brave enough to shot the liquor in one go twice in a row. 

“I can stay here in Miramar and take up an analytical position amongst the higher ups.” You explained as you eyed off the liquor swirling around in the small glass. “Or—“

“Or—?” Chaos mimicked you like a parrot, smirking as you held back on her for a moment. 

“Or I can take up a position at Quantico, work under the guidance of some of the most leading admirals, which would just send my career skyrocketing Chaos.” You explained before following the daring pilot's lead, shotting the liquor you nursed. 

“Well it sounds like you already know what you want to do so what’s the big issue?” Chaos knew what the dilemma was, and in her mind he had the biggest ego around. Jake Seresin was the anchor keeping you in Miramar. “If you want my personal opinion? I think you should follow whatever your heart is telling you to do Y/n.” Chaos sighed as she shifted in her bed a little more. There was never a comfortable spot, one she could find anyway. “But just so you know, I followed my heart and it damn near got me killed, so.” 

“Jake and I are good, I don’t wanna jeopardise anything because of a new posting.” It was the honest truth, you didn’t want to leave Jake in North Island. You wanted to stay and see how things were going to play out. You wanted to enjoy the marriage you had just built back up with the man you loved so much. “He’s really shown he can be a good, genuine person, Chaos, and I love him—so much.” 

“I sense a but coming here.” You just laughed softly, shaking your head in defeat as Chaos eyed you down. 

“But he told me once I’d never make it if I didn’t stop being scared to try and I dunno Chaos–I wanna be the best.” It felt like acid coming out of your mouth. You’d left Jake for his obsession with wanting to be the best, now it felt like you were about to do it all over again. Only this time it was you who had the obsession in sight. “But I can’t do it without him either.” 

“You could always ask him to go with you, you know?” Chaos raised a brow gently. “I think Hangman would follow you to the edge of the earth if you asked him to.” 

“The same way Rooster would for you?” For two women who were as fiercely independent as one another, you two had some pretty good men who would fall to their knees before you both. Chaos just laughed softly as she nodded in agreement. “I better get going, Coyotes taking me up on a fly over a little later and I've gotta make sure to empty the contents of my stomach before my feet hit the tarmac.” 

“Ah so you're gonna pop your cherry?” Chaos grinned ear to ear. “I heard about this little endeavour to get you up in an F-18 before your ranking ceremony.”

“Please–” You groaned as you hid your face in your hands, your elbows resting on your knees. “Im so fucking scared Chaos.” 

“I don't understand how you analyse flight patterns and organise these strike forces and attacks with tomahawks and drones and spend some much time on aircraft carriers and not to bring up the elephant in the room but you're married to a fighter pilot, and yet you have such a fear of flying!” Chaos beamed as she laid your phobia out for you. 

“It's not funny alright!” You couldn't help but to laugh at yourself as you groaned in annoyance. “I don't even wanna do this but they all wont get off my dick about it, said i gotta go up at least once in my lifetime.”

“I agree, flying a fighter jet is the most fun you can have with your pants on!”

“You literally almost died on the last mission you went on Chaos.” 

“I didn't almost die because I wasn't having fun.” Chaos felt like she needed to explain it to you so you maybe walked out of her hospital room a little less scared. “I almost died because the man I love needed me, and I'd do exactly what I did for him over and over again if it meant he was okay.” She cooed as you listened intently. “I can't wait to get back in the cockpit, it would take a lot for me to ever give it up–it's too exciting, too thrilling! But hey, what's the worst that's gonna happen right?” Chaos shrugged. “It's just a fly over.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“I don’t think we could have picked a better day to do this man.” Javy smirked as he walked around the perimeter of the two seater fighter jet. “Honest, she’s gonna fall in love with it.” 

“I highly doubt she’ll go from irrational fear to being madly in love with flying Coyote.” Jake was very aware of your hesitations about this fly over, you’d asked him every possible question under the sun about the what ifs and the maybes. He’d even caught you one night last week reading over your final will and testament while enjoying a glass of red. 

“I’m just dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s before you send me plummeting towards an untimely demise.” You joked as Jake came to kneel before you—removing your laptop from where it had made its home on your thighs before his hands snaked up the experience of your inner thighs, parting them with ease. 

“Still! It’ll be good to get her up, I don’t even know how she’s managed to go this long without so much as going up in a Cessna.” 

“It’s not inherently a part of her job description.” Jake replied as he followed Coyote around the aircraft—taking tags off and making sure everything was in proper working order. “She seems to be doing a damn good job without ever having flown too.” 

“I’ll say.” Phoenix chimed in as she made her way over with Bob. “You better not mess my baby up Coyote—“ It was Phoenix’s plane that Coyote was flying with you today, his own had only been a one seater. With the promise of a passenger, Phoenix happily agreed to switch for the day. “Bobs grown awfully attached to the thing.” 

“Don’t throw me under the bus!” Bob gasped. “You’re the one who carved your initials into the framework!” Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he caught the sight of you all geared up and ready to go. In his mind you looked like a toddler just about ready for her first day of swimming lessons. All the bells and whistles on to help keep you afloat. 

“Now just remember, if you need to spew, just spew—it’s always better out than it is in.” Rooster bumped into your shoulder as you nervously walked beside him. 

“What happens if I need to shit myself?” It was supposed to be a joke, but the more time that lingered in between when you’d asked and when Rooster responded—the less and less it felt like a gag. 

“Try not to do that.” 

“Got it.” 

“Ah! Look at you!” Jake was the first one beaming at you as you did a little twirl for him. “You look great Hawkeye!” 

“She’s shitting herself by the sounds of it.” Rooster snickered as you elbowed his side, sending him doubling over with an oof sound as he clutched at his side. “Okay—yep, sorry ma’am.” 

“How long is this gonna take?” You asked as you squinted, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun before Jake took his aviators off and pleased them on your head. They were just a tad too big, but so was everything else you were wearing. From the spare Normex suit to the flight helmet. 

“Half an hour give or take.” The shake horror of it all was finally starting to set in. This was the moment you’d been dreading ever since the idea had been conceived. You should have squashed it before it was able to bloom into a fully formulated and calculated endeavour. But now here you were—standing on the goddamn tarmac about to climb into a fighter jet. “But Coyote genuinely has some checks to run, so you’ll be coasting for most of it anyway, he’s even gonna take you over the gully—it’s beautiful Hawk you’ll love it.”

“Oh great yeah just what I wanted to hear, Hangman.” Jake grinned as you put a little more emphasis on his callsign than normal, ignoring the comment about the beautiful gully and focusing on the mentions of genuine checks. “What’s wrong with the thing!” 

“Nothings wrong with the Super Hornet Hawk, it's just a routine service flight.” Phoenix shook her head as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest. “Normally I’d take the bird up but Javy was just so persistent in getting me to trade, how could I say no.” 

“You should have had my back Nix.” You tisked at the only female aviator still standing. Everyone was missing Chaos but no one more than Bradley Bradshaw. “Well, can we get this over with already because I'm feeling ridiculously nervous and I’m worried if I put it off any longer instead of just ripping the band aid off I’ll pass out.” 

“Alright, alright.” Jake cooed as he placed his arm around you, drawing you into his side as he kissed your temple. “Let's get you in the air Hawkeye.” 

“I'm so nervous Jake–” You cooed as you walked with your husband towards the F-18. 

“That's a totally appropriate emotion to be feeling.” Jake chuckled softly. “You’ll be fine, I have totally one hundred percent faith in Coyote.” Stopping momentarily to kiss your forehead. “Have you got your new posting yet or?” Shaking your head, Jake sighed. You hated lying to him, but you just hadnt made up your mind about what you wanted to do yet. Stay, or go. 

“Not yet, but I'm sure I will soon.” It was as Jake began to walk with you towards the F-18 that Flumes ‘On Top’ starting barreling through the UE Boom speaker Fanboy had brought in his pocket. Seeing it as the most fitting time ever to start playing the hype song. Everybody laughed, including you. This endeavour wasn’t even remotely on your bucket list of things to achieve—but it was nice to have someone beside you so willing to help you conquer your fear, challenge you, get you outside your comfort zone. 

“I'm just hyping you up ma’am!” Fanboy chuckled as he held the speaker above his head. “Goodluck! It's just like riding a bike!” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Javy Machado was a conservative fighter pilot. Much like his co-worker Rooster–he didn't take risks all that much. He played by the rules, he knew when and where to be a little risky, but majority of the time, he followed the rules of aerodynamics and kept his ego in check more so than most. He knew he was an exceptional aviator, otherwise he wouldn't have been called back to TopGun twice and asked to stay on as a permanent fixture on Miramar for the foreseeable future. 

Javy flew every flight he took like he had something to lose. He never wanted his family or friends to receive the news he’d been killed in action or in a training exercise. He simply did what he had to do with calculated poise and a firm belief that whatever God was watching over him that day would take pity on him just one more time for just one more flight and get him through just one more day. 

Javy Machado wasn't a praying man, but as he took off with the most precious cargo he;d ever flown with sitting right behind him, Javy said a small inaudible prayer to the God’s above–hoping that he could lessen your internal fears with a calm and problem free fly over. 

“How you doing back there?” Coyote smirked as he steadied out on the throttle, levelling out after a textbook takeoff. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. A perfect sunny day that almost looked as if it were too good to be true.

“Am I dead yet?” You had your eyes closed as tight as ever, gripping onto your harness for dear life. Jake couldn't help but to laugh as he heard your voice come through the radio. He stood with the group in the rec room back at base. All laughing and watching as Coyote flew by in laps. 

“No.” Coyote chuckled as he veered left a little. “If you feel like opening your eyes anytime soon you can look out and see the runway.” Slowly but surely, you peeled your eyelids open, coming into your view was the tarmac, the runway, the entirety of the Miramar base. 

“Oh woah–” You instantly felt sick to your stomach although the view was beautiful. “I uh, I never knew I was afraid of heights until now–” You nervously chuckled out as you put your hand up against the cockpit. “Pretty though.” 

“You think that's pretty, wait till we go over the gully!” Javy was getting excited. So far so good. Levelling out before swinging to the right, Jake watched as he flew further and further away from the base. The gully wasn't all that far from the runway, with binoculars Jake could keep an eye on you from his position by the window. Which he did. 

“What made you wanna be an aviator, Javy?” You asked as you tried to relax a little, settling into the back seat but a little more. You’d known Javy Machado before for a long time, so long in fact he’d been a groomsman in yours and Jake's wedding. But when you left you fell out of contact–never having asked why he decided to do what he did. 

“Just growing up on the bases really resonated with me from the beginning I guess.” He shrugged like it was a no brainer. To him though it had been, he couldn't remember wanting to do anything else ever. “My dad was a pilot before he retired a few years ago.” 

“Ah, so it's in the blood.” You responded as you flew with Javy further and further towards the mountain range. 

“Absolutely ma’am.” There was nothing out of the ordinary that Coyote had noticed as he did he checks. Running codes as he checked off system by system. “What made you want to be an analyst Hawkeye?”

“I wanted to be a clearance diver originally.” You explained as you felt the jet jolt a little. JAvy played his cards close to his chest though and didn't flinch. He knew you’d instantly panic if he gave away something was wrong. “But I didn't pass the initial fitness assessment, tapped out half way through because I couldn't handle the diet of up and go’s and dry electrolyte packets.” 

“Understandable–” Coyote kept the conversation going as he noticed the left engine light blinking beside him. “I had a mate who wanted to be a marine and he said the training was damn near torture.” 

“Did he make it through?” You asked, stiffening a little as the jet jolted again, this time more aggressively. You knew something was wrong. “Javy is everything alright?” 

“Oh god no, he works for the state library now.” Coyote frowned as he tried to figure out what was going on before the situation escalated anymore than need be. “And yeah, everythings fine, Hawk, no need to worry, just sit back and rela–” Before Coyote could finish his sentence, Plumes of black thick smoke were spilling out from the left engine. “Holy shit–” 

“Coyote?” You questioned as he saw the smoke as you turned in your seat. “Oh my god!” Jake was the first to notice the trouble happening in the sky while everyone listened in around the radio. 

“Hangman hand me the binoculars–” Payback asked as he held his hand out. If something was happening he thought Jake was the last person who needed to see it unfold in real time. His wife and best friend both in the same Super Hornet. 

“Fuck off.” Jake hissed as he keeped his eyes on the jet. “Phoenix, I thought you said there was nothing wrong with the–” 

“There shouldn't be, I don't understand what's going on?” Phoenix’s voice was shaking as she came to stand by the window. 

“Range Control this is Coyote and Hawk.” Javy’s voice came through the radio as the rest of his team listened in. “I've lost my left engine completely, there's dark smoke billowing out but there doesn't seem to be a fire–” 

“Recommend return landing immediately.” Rage Control agreed as Coyote made a sharp left turn over the gully, heading back towards base. As soon as you were heading back though? Every bell and whistle in the cockpit began to ring out like a mantra of warnings. Something was seriously wrong. 

“Oh god.” Javy was beginning to panic. “Range Control, I'm looking at a full system malfunction–everything gone!” 

“Please tell me you can land this thing?” You didn't know when you'd started to cry, but your cheeks were wet nevertheless. “Coyote?” 

“I gotta go–” Jake couldn't compute what was happening, he was in full panic mode. This wasn’t happening. Dropping the binoculars into Payback's hands as he turned on his heels. 

“Hangman–” Roster gripped Jake's forearm, stopping him in his tracks. “Bro.” 

“Emergency responders are gonna be getting ready for when they go down Bradshaw, i'm going with them.” Jake explained as his eyes began to water. This was his fault, he’d put you on that goddamn jet. “First she takes the entire system fails, what kind of sick fucking joke is this?” 

“Keep it together man, you don't get to fall apart yet.” Rooster reminded the man who’d saved his life. “She’s gonna need you.” 

“Maday, Maday, Maday!” Coytes voice cut through the painful silence that lingered around the rec room. “I've lost control! I have no control!” 

“Holy shit they're really going down.” Bob had just caught onto the severity of the situation, he thought for sure whatever the problem had been Coyote could catch it. Bring it home. “Oh my god–” 

Jake felt his entire world crashing down around him as the radio went static. He knew how you felt now when he’d disobeyed your direct orders to go after Bradshaw. He wasn't sure when he’d dropped to the fall of the rec room but it's exactly where he ended up as your screams cut through the radio just before the static took over. He could see the smoke trail leading off into the montrains. But no plane. No You. 

“Hangman–” Phoenix tried her best to comfort the fallen aviator. “They’re gonna be alright yeah? It's Coyote and Hawk.” Her hand gently resting against his back as a sob no one had ever heard before escaped Jake's lips. He was lost without you–how could he put you in this position. If he lost you? Jake would never recover. There was a difference between losing you because of the marriage you had shared breaking down and losing you for good. At least if he lost you because you didn't love him anymore Jake could still sleep at night knowing you were somewhere on earth smiling, enjoying whatever or whoever was making you happy these days. But losing you for good, knowing that you weren't just somewhere else away from him enjoying life and living free, killed him. 

“Ma’am—“ Coyote even in the face of uncertainty knew you outranked him by a mile. “See that yellow and black handle between your legs underneath the seat?” Looking down between your legs as Javy lost control of the F-18, you nodded in response before replying— realising he probably couldn’t see you. 

“Yes!” It came out so panicked it broke Coyote's heart. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you’d never wanna get on another plane ever again. “I see it!” 

“I need you to pull that on my count of three and put nice your out, pull the red handle on your vest alright, it’s your parachute—“ 

“Okay!” You shouted over warning bells and whistles as they echoed out through the cockpit. “I’ve got it—!” 

“In three, two—“ Coyote had only ever injected from an F-18 once in his life. Now he was doing it for a second time with his best friend's wife. He knew deep down if someone happened to you Jake would never forgive him. But he couldn’t think about that until you were on the ground at least. “One—“ 

With your cue given—both you and Javy pulled your ejection handles. What you didn’t expect was the sheer force of your seats jolting you up into the canopy that had haphazardly opened from the system malfunctions. You screamed as you fell through the sky uncontrollably, reaching out for the red lever on your harness. Pulling as hard as you possibly could as you caught eyes on Coyote still free falling uncontrollably towards the ground. The tree line not too far away. 

“COYOTE!!” You screamed so loud you burned your throat. He wasn’t slowing down. You didn’t see him develop his shoot. “JAVY—!”

Everything that could have gone wrong for your first flight in an F-18 did. So caught up watching Coyote yesterday didn’t see how fast you were coming into land. You hit the tree line seconds after with a thud that rendered you out cold as you fell and smacked against branch after branch after branch.

“Jake if you’re gonna go you gotta go now I can see the patrol car loading up.” Mickey explained as he looked out the window. For a man who normally knew how to compose himself Jake Seresin was a mess. Had he just lost his wife? His best friend? His entire world? He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything besides your beautiful face. How could he have done this to you? He forced you into this—you’d practically begged him to drop the idea ever since Jake had first brought it up. The taste of guilt was vile of his tongue.

“Hangman!” Phonic snapped. “Snap out of it and get off the damn floor!” She raised her voice and changed her tone—breaking through the haze that had begun to cloud Jake's vision. “Go find them.” 

“Guys–” Payback choked out a soft mumble. “I didn't see any parachutes.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake raced as fast as he could over to where the medics were piling into the truck. An off-road vehicle specially designed for scenarios like this. He’s kind was clouded with the sound of your screams. The kind of scream you let out when you were utterly terrified.

“I need to go with you.” He wasn’t asking, no. Jake was telling. “That was my wife—“ 

“Sir, it's authorised personnel only.” One of the men said as he tried to shut the door only for Jake to grab at the door frame with his full strength. Sir—“

“I just watched my wife burn in, did you fucking hear me!?” He shouted. Rooster was racing down the tarmac from the exit of the building he’d watched Jake take a few moments ago. “My fucking wife was on that F-18 and if you don’t take me to her right now so help me god I’ll—“

“What he means to say is that he’d be forever grateful if you could just bend the rules just this once because he’s losing his mind.” Rooster placed his hand on Jakes shoulder as he bit his tongue and exhaled slowly. “Look, what if it was someone you loved?” Rooster asked the medic who was being far too stand-offish for his liking. But he’d broken him down regardless. “Hawk and Coyote aren’t just colleagues, they’re family.”

“Get in.” The medic huffed reluctantly, knowing that sitting here arguing was only waisting valuable time.

“Thank you—“ Jake sighed as he jumped into the back. “Thank you so much.” 

“Jake?” Rooster caught his attention through the window. “I know how you must be feeling, but Hawk? She’s a fighter.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

You weren't sure what brought you back to reality as you swayed gently in the breeze. Whether it was the pain radiating in your spine or the throbbing numbness of your left leg. Perhaps it was the sound of the burning Super Hornet not a few clicks north, or if it was the smell of jet fuel being burnt at temperatures that exceeded that of which humans could handle. Why were you hanging in a tree? Why were you in a flight suit? And why could you see a flight helmet that had the call sign ‘Coyote’ written across it on the ground? 

“Coyote?” You sobbed as you looked above, your parachute had become twisted and lodged in a tree. Forcing you to dangle in mid air. Trapped as you swayed gently in the breeze that raced through the gully. “Coyote?” Looking down at just how far the ground was from where you dangled above it didn't seem all that high. You could make the jump. “Coyote you there?” Again, for the third time–there was no response as you looked around while blindly searching for the clip on your stomach that would free you from your harness. “Okay okay okay okay, the worst of it is over–you got this you got this you got this.” Squinting your eyes tight as you hit the release, you were sent flying towards the ground below with an oof as you hit the dirt. “Ah fuck!” 

Everything hurt. That was to be expected after ejecting from a near fatal fighter yet crash. Bite size snippets were flooding back to you as you blinked back tears. But you knew immediately something wasn't right when you hit the ground. Deciding to just lay there for a moment and breathe. Turning your head slightly you spotted a mess of canvas close by. A numbness you weren’t sure of radiating through your spine and down your legs.

“Javy?” You sobbed out again to no response. “Dammit you son of a bitch–” Rolling over onto your hands and knees, you slowly but surely stood with a gasp. Getting your teeth as you hobbled over, you were too afraid to look down because you knew by how it felt alone that your leg was broken. Your femur snapped clean in half from hitting the tree branches like a pinball. “Javy, man–you okay?” At this point you weren't even sure why you were still talking, you hadnt had a response since you'd come to. “Sick joke if you ask me–” Dropping down beside the mess of canvas, you fished Coyote out, pulling him into your lap with all your strength before assessing the damage. 

He had a bloodied nose, that was all you could see physically–but when you pressed your fingers to the pulse point of his neck you felt nothing. Deciding your judgement was clouded by adrenaline, you opted for a second source, checking his wrist–again, no pulse. 

“Fuck!” Although every time you moved it sent pins and needles shooting up your spine and made the base of your head feel oddly bizarre, you laid Javy on his back as you moved beside him. “Absolutely not, you don't get to do this to me!” Unclipping his harness and unzipping his Normex suit, you interlocked your fingered and with all your strength, began compressions. “One, two, three, four–” So on and so forth you counted and repeated the rhythm to Stayin Alive by the Bee Gees. “Come on Javy, come on!” You didn't stop, with every compression more and more blood spilled out from your leg where your femur had slashed through flesh, seeping into the normex suit. You felt light headed, weak even. Your spine felt like jelly as you tried to support yourself. “Ill never forgive you if you fucking die on me, COME ON!!” 

“Y/n!” You could hear Jake's voice calling out your name but you never stopped to look around as you kept doing compressions. “They’re over here!” Without so much as hesitating—Jake was racing across the gully to get to you. “Y/n!!” Coming to crouch beside you, Jake assessed the situation. He had to get to you. He had to see for himself if the decision to put you on that goddamn F-18 cost him everything. “You don’t know how sorry I am, I’m so sorry baby.” 

“Can’t stop—“ You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you kept going with your compressions. “One, two, three, four—“ You repeated each compression you have. “He’s not breathing— why won’t he just breathe dammit!”

“Hawk, Y/n—baby you’re in shock.” Jake cooed as he saw your thigh, how you were still going he had no idea. Your leg was broken, the pain must have been excruciating. “Your legs broken.” Jake didn’t know if you knew or if you could even feel the broken bone from all the adrenaline. All his attention though, although he’d feel guilty about it later, was all on you. 

“I don’t know how long he hasn’t been breathing!” You told one of the paramedics as they placed their hands over the top of yours as if to tell you your job was done. Taking over as Jake dragged you back and into his arms. “Fuck you!” You cried out as Jake placed his hand on your forehead to guide you head against his chest. “Fuck you both!” 

“It’s alright, you’re alright—“ Jake was holding back his own tears as he watched the paramedics work on his best friend. One of them making their way over to assess you as you laid in Jake's arms. “I love you so much, I’m so sorry—I never should’ve put you in that jet baby.” 

“I hate you—I hate you I’ll never forgive you—I hate you.” Jake knew your anger was coming from a place deep inside you. “Do you hear me? I. Hate. You.” Jake knew you didn’t actually hate him, or Javy. But you hated flying and the fact you’d just been through something unprecedented after being so adamantly against the idea, you needed to get your anguish out. Jake was just the closest person who you could take it out on. That’s what he thought at least: 

“I hear you Hawk I hear you.” But it didn’t make it any easier to hear. 

“Commander Seresin, my names Racheal, I’m one of the base emergency responders, can you wiggle your toes for me?” You tried to do as Racheal told you but you couldn’t. You couldn’t even feel that she’d been applying pressure on your ankles for the better half of a minute now. “Okay, no need to worry, we’re gonna get you in a neck brace and pop you on a stretcher—just for precautions.” 

“It’s Lieutenant Commander.” You quickly incorrectly corrected Racheal. “Why can’t I feel my legs?” Panic was starting to rise in your throat, the adrenaline that had been causing through your veins had started to subside and with that came more and more pain. “I can’t feel my legs—Oh my god, I can’t—“ Before you could spiral too much, Jake was cooing in your ear as he held you close. Supporting you. 

“You’re alright baby I’ve got you.” Jake had blood on his hands from where your thigh had been slashed and cut by bone. Applying pressure to stop the bleeding. “I’m sure it’s just the adrenaline—“ He tried to find a reasonable explanation as to why you couldn’t wiggle your toes but as he looked to Rachael the first responder her face said otherwise. 

“Ma’am, I’m gonna place this neck brace around your neck alright, try not to move.” It was of the utmost importance from this moment onward that you remained as still as possible. Jake held you still as Racheal secured the brace. “Good job, okay now all I want you to do for me is let your husband and I lay you down on this stretcher here. 

“Ex husband—“ Jake frowned for a split second as you corrected Racheal with the wrong information. “Ex husband, we’re separated.” 

“Uh—“ Jake didn’t know what to say, but Racheal looked at him with an explanation lingering in her lips. 

“You two married?” She asked. 

“Yeah, yeah we were uh, separated for a while there but for the last six weeks we’ve been good, I thought we were really good actually.” Racheal just nodded as she reached for her radio. “Something's wrong isn’t it?” 

“Why are you here Jake?” You asked with an annoyance in your tone, like you couldn’t understand why he was here. Of all people. “Why was I on that F-18?” Jake didn’t know how to answer, he didn’t reply as he let a few tears escape past his waterline as he watched Racheal radio back to base. 

“This is ground patrol, we’ve got two victims located on the upper north side gully of deadman’s ridge, one responsive one not.” The radio transmission could be heard back at the base as everyone sat around waiting for any news in the Rec room. “Male pilot, unconscious and unresponsive—female back seater, possible broken back and seems to be suffering some level of amnesia—“ 

“Holy shit, Coyote—“ Bradley was the first one to comfort Phoenix as she gasped in shock, pulling her into his arms as this all his way too close to home for him. Bob was stunned into a state of shock and disbelief. Unable to move from his position by the window as Fanboy came to his side. Speechless. 

“They’ll get him back.” Payback was the first one to speak. “It’s Javy, he’s not gonna throw in the towel that easily, right?” 

“Hawks not gonna remember any of the last few weeks—“ Bob spoke just barely above a whisper. “The mission, her promotion, Chaos, getting back together with Hangman—us.“ 

“I’ve got a pulse!” One of the many paramedics working on Javy called out. He took priority. “Where the hell's that chopper!?” 

“Okay Y/n, we're gonna move you onto this spinal board now just to help us transport you back to the base hospital—“ Racheal explained as she placed the bright orange stretcher right up against you. “Jake and I are gonna be really careful moving you and I need you to just go with the flow and stay as still as possible for me.” 

“I can’t feel my legs—“ It was becoming like a mantra. The only thing you could say, because you couldn’t feel your legs. “But I can’t feel my legs—“ 

“I know ma’am.” Racheal said as she prepared to lift you from your legs while Jake moved to position himself further behind you, laying you down gently on the ground. “But we’re hoping that it’s only temporary—“

“Come on baby you gotta be strong for me—“

“Why the fuck would I do anything for you?” It stung, but Jake knew that if anything it was just the amnesia talking. “I still don’t understand why you’re fucking here Jake!” 

“Because I love you with all my heart baby, you know that.” Jake was dying—he felt like someone had ripped his heart out and had rung it out. The wind had been knocked out of him, the world had stopped spinning. Without you Jake felt empty, he felt like he had been shoved back in time. Back to a time where you couldn’t stand the sight of him. You couldn’t remember every moment of the past six weeks. Which meant to you Jake Seresin was still your ex. “Because you’re my whole world.” 

“Okay on three—“ Racheal stated, breaking the tension between you and Jake. “One, two, three!” 

“AAHHHH—!!” It was a god awful cry. Jake couldn’t take it, letting his tears fall freely as he helped place you down on the stretcher. “Ahhhh Fuck!” 

“Okay, we have to get these two outta here.” Racheal addressed her colleagues as she strapped you in. 

Jake?” It came out more paid than you would have liked it to, but you needed to air your honest opinion. Looking up at Jake as he looked down on you. Crouching so he could touch your cheek softly. 

“Yeah baby, I’m here—I’ve got you.” He cooed, not expecting the statement you rocked his world with to fall from your lips. 

“I don’t care why you’re here—“ You sobbed, why the fuck your ex husband was here to begin with you had no idea.

“I still want a divorce.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Author Note: THANKYOU ALL SO MUCH! For the continued support for this series and in addition the Chaos Series.

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74 @shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum @ssprayberrythings @averyhotchner @itsemohours @shawnsblue

[dykevotions]

what's the buntom lore I've seen u post abt it a lot and I'm curious

HI. HELLO. WHATS UP . i be keeping this shit Short and Compact. Trust me

here are summaries of friday league and saturday league of beastlife. aswell as my beastlife guide post . neither of the summaries include the most recent season which. is the one buntoms in. but yknow. you win some you lose some.

SO. BUNTOM. WHATS HER FUCKIN DEAL !??!?!

feat. mild spoilers* for beasts, and . decently wordy! *some of you know already, but im trying to film a cool video about it and edit it tonight alright... .

SO. buntom is a animal crossing inspired cartoon character, who is an mctom (my cubito ocs) who only speaks in animalese and tomlang! now you might be asking. what the fuck is tomlang. as you should be. Ask all the questions ever.

Tomlang is a conlang I(1) made, based entirely off of symbols on a standard english keyboard. pretty + right?

link to the tomlang guide. not required reading, but its pretty short, and < think its pretty cool.

now if you read it (which. again. not required!) you'll have seen.... this

now this is not Andromeda(2) but is LUNATIC !! I LOVE LUNATIC TSHIRT THAT SAYS I LOVE LUNATIC (this is about buntom i swear. this will make sense)

lunatic (atleast this specific one!(3)) preforms hexes to be less than a pixel tall and understand buntoms thoughts. lunatic is the only person that has ever understood buntom, and nobody knows he exists.

insert comics . Yeah

so buntom exists with lunatic for a bit of time. not a while, but they just chill in the forest.

then buntom gets pulled into a death game (with a skyblock gimmick this season! how fun!) , with lunatic alongside her. this is where 🎈s #story really starts

to summarise everything to happen to buntom throughout the season (saturday leauge s4, plus a guest visit to friday leauge s3) : she is dehumanised , treated as an animal or uncontrollable/feral by multiple other teams, downright called his teams PET by someone (hi sonicmike. hows your day . ) and destroys shit and kills people over it. as you do. and also helps build a giant network of paths in the sky (skynet) which are burnt down (he rebuilds them) (wtf sonicmike)

he gets mixed up with sheeptom (the other mctom in beastlife) after they go to a wedding on applecraft (another server. hard to explain) and deals with new people who are.... nice to xem for the most part? And treat er like a person? he has to bury one of them. besides that, it was good for him. she likes the people in friday league.

and then ves back. and he wakes up at her teammates grave. with more time(4) and signs from sheeptom telling her that it was sorry that they had to do it. and that their teammates love them. there's a funeral for someone else. hardly anyone honors space for dying too. he resents them for this.

the only teammate he has around at this time, is echidna. and echidna is walking away from where they live, so fuck it. and he follows. and theyre in the middle of nowhere together, far above the others. and hes safe for a while there. they both have a few hours till they die, but its peaceful.

they shouldve broken the path to where they were. practically the entire server comes to find them and hunt them down. they spawn kill them. they barely escape. they go back to their old base. they get found. echidna runs out of time. buntom dies, but still has time. he hides. she goes to the nether. tom covers the portal in lava. xey trap themself in the nether for the last hour(ish) heart has to live.

he resents herself for this. xey cut their dyed parts of hair off (they liked their dyed hair. it was her favorite part of how he looked, but it made him not fit in. if only he was like the others, then maybe they wouldnt have hated him. maybe then echidna mightve been alive.) and play tic tac toe with lunatic. over and over. and over and over.

and its the last session

and you have 24 minutes left to live

and you play tic tac toe

over and over

and over and over

and you admit that you're scared to die (this isnt the first time you've told lunatic this. you did it when you first hid.)

and you make your own grave (and lunatic, you are buried together.)

and you make echidna a grave

and you play tic tac toe (your move!)

and you have 10 seconds

and you look at how you hid from the world

and you die

and you're coming back next season! but in the meantime, shes in hell :D ! all mctoms get their own personalized hell, and buntoms is made for two! buntom has lunatic ignoring and not listening to xer, and not moving, and is so scared that his best friend is like the others. that she really is what everyone else thinks of him. that this is how it was always going to end. and lunatic just has to stand there! and cant talk, or move, or communicate at all. horrible world for autistic people

thats . basically it. Yeah . i think that covers most of my bases . buntoms also canonically aroace and autistic. so . Win!

footnotes :

1: okay my brother helped a bunch and so its like. partially him aswell

2: echidnas friday leauge character! her name does that when he tries to say it.

3: see. worldhoppers vs worldbounds. except lunatic is a seperate third thing. theres multiple lunatics out there thats all u need to knoww

4: limited life gimmick. u know the deal

[i4bellingham]

please a jamal musiala like general dating headcannon he’s barely written for on tumblr LMFAO

DATING HEADCANONS: jamal musiala x reader

CONTENT: lowercase intended, suggestive content, descriptions of kissing and making out, just a general idea of what i think dating jamal would be like

NOTE: tried finishing this for my baby’s birthday ♡ but ey knee ways, happiest 20th birthday to my baby boy in bayern i fucking love you even though you have no clue of who i am <33 also to the beautiful people reading this, enjoy !! and happy jamal day! <33

first thing’s first, jamal is definitely a sucker for cuddles.

LOVES to be the small spoon and he's not embarrassed to admit that, not to you and definitely not to everyone.

loves laying his head on your chest while you play with his hair and enjoys the feeling of your fingers running through the back of his neck because it helps lull him to sleep. it's a therapy for him as much as it is a cuddle.

he loves feeling you close to him whether that may be within the enclosed walls of your home or out in public.

he usually have an arm around your waist or shoulder or sometimes holds your hand in his while you're both out.

cheek and neck kisses are definitely his thing. love placing them on your skin and does so unconsciously often times.

he's definitely getting called whipped, and a simp online by the fans because the numerous pictures about the both of you due to how touchy he is and how fearless he is to show affection towards you despite his seemingly shy demeanor.

speaking of which, he can sometimes come off as borderline possessive especially when he feels like those fools around you thinks they have a shot to shoot with you.

he slams their dreams down by wrapping an arm around your waist and lip-locking with you no matter if it's out in public.

hides his face on the crook of your neck afterwards.

jamal loves it when you come to his games. your attendance is definitely a major contributing factor to his amazing plays.

he's definitely not trying to show his skills off with you watching the game.

and on that note, of course, you have to attend games wearing his kit.

seeing his number and last name being worn by you surely brings a proud glint in his eyes and motivates him to work extra harderㅡ

loves marking you up against a wall while you're wearing it too, or inside the car with you perched on top of his lap as he sucks hickies on your neck or tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth after the gameㅡ

you're definitely one of the first people he goes to after a game ends.

often times reaching for you over the barricade while you wrap your arms around his sweaty body, not minding his situation after a game but you're there to congratulate him and sing him your praises.

you help him cool down after a match by offering a massage, a bath or if the both of you are in for it, a post match session where both of your bodies are entangled in the sheets afterwards.

jamal’s certain that he'll never meet someone as supportive and as loving as you again.

that's why in your third year anniversary, he's already purchased your dream wedding band, safely tucked in his closet as he waits for the perfect timing to finally ask for your hand.

[queerdrow]

Idk if I’ve ever actually posted this on here even though I made this account before I was even dating my now husband but

1) Our DM officiated our wedding dressed as a wizard. Elminster to be specific. I knew he was going to do this and we kept it a secret from my husband.

2)We signed our marriage certificate at a D&D session a month before our ceremony partly so I could get on my husband’s health insurance sooner but mostly so our friend Marissa who played a nonbinary halfling wild magic sorcerer named Rooster (who was raised by wolves btw) could sign as a witness since she was going to be out of town for the ceremony.

3) Here is a photo of said wedding for your enjoyment/so you can make fun of me for being a gigantic fucking nerd

(Also yes that’s an HP book he is holding. This was in 2015 we had no clue JKR was such a huge piece of shit)

[heartbeatan]

The Art of Revenge (Chapter 1)

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Jungkook Fanfictions.

Return to One Nights Series.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 1

You were healthily addicted to your cell phone, the way most twenty-first centuriers were. It offered you safety, connection, entertainment, news, directions, and food delivery. You lived a pretty happy digital life. You avoided the toxic corners of social media, successfully skirted wasting money on fad product trends (well… success is a relative term…) and spent most of your time smiling at the hilarious memes posted by friends, rolling your eyes at your step-mother and future-mother-in-laws aggressive “wedding suggestions” emails, and squealing at the romantic and occasionally naughty texts from your fiancé.

Today, however, as you looked down at the black, cracked screen - your thumb hovering over the lock button - your pink-cased smartphone more so resembled a ticking time bomb, rather than a miniature computer.

You had turned the sounds and vibrations off days ago. The endless stream of notifications and phone calls since “it happened” had frayed your patience and your nerves. You couldn't stand to hear another “I’m here for you!” or “I’m sorry!” or “You should [insert unprompted advice]” without wanting to vomit. The only reason why you wanted to vomit was because the alternative was going to cost you several court appearances for attempted murder, vandalism, and arson - and you were reasonable enough to know that the bastards who already ruined your life weren’t worth ruining your future.

But, since vomiting only seemed like a self-punishing form of anger - and that didn’t seem fair either - you decided that you could channel your hate for the world in other ways.

That brought you to this moment: parked along the shoulder of a two-lane highway, flanked by old, tall trees, hours away from your civilization, staring down at your phone as you decided which crisis you were going to address first when you finally unlocked the screen.

You pressed your thumb and the screen lit up, prompting you for a password. You scrunched your nose as the lockscreen notification indicated that you had received another slew of text messages, notifications, emails and missed phone calls. A wiser person would have started blocking numbers and addresses - but you weren’t wiser… you were vindictive… and thus, you needed those numbers unblocked so that you could execute your plan accordingly.

You punched in your passcode, and immediately scoffed as you came face to face with your wallpaper. It was an engagement photo of you and your fiancé, hugging each other tightly, and beaming into the photo lens with bright smiles. Of all the photos that had been taken that session, this one wasn’t the best of the lot. The sun was hot and painfully bright, meaning neither of you could see. In fact, tears from trying to keep your eyes open had streaked your mascara. Chris - your fiancé - had also begun to sweat beneath his dress shirt, and the wind blew both your perfectly coiffed hairstyles out of place. But you remembered vividly how happy you had been when that photo was taken. Chris had made some ridiculous joke about life being about “as good as it sweats”, and although his puns were usually met with jeers and boos, you couldn’t help but fall into a fit of laughter. Life with him was always a bit corny, but fun as hell. He held you tight against him, and you pressed your cheeks together as you laughed stupidly towards the photographer.

You should have changed your wallpaper the moment you walked in on Chris, your fiancé, fucking your Maid of Honour, Stephanie. But you decided that, for now, you needed to be reminded of his face. You needed to remember why you were putting an obscenely high number of miles on your car. You needed the anger to flush your system and strip you of all trepidation. You needed your inhibitions gone, so you felt no remorse about fucking the man whom Stephanie called “the love of her life.”

Perhaps, we should back up…

Stephanie and yourself had been inseparable since middle school. She was your best friend, and you had remained loyaly at each other’s side through the chaos and mess of your formative years. University was the only thing that pulled you two apart - but, despite the time zone difference between your respective schools, you stayed in touch. That was when you first heard about Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook and Stephanie were in the same dormitories, shared friends, and even took the occasional class together. She was completely enamored by him from the very first moment they met. You remembered the phone call she made to you that very first day of school, and how brightly you smiled from the other end of the phone as she recounted how she had just met “the love of her life.” You were happy for her, and admittedly a bit jealous that her first college experience had been so monumentally more exceptional than yours. You considered yourself to be a social person, but your first week out of your small town, on the heels of breaking up with your highschool boyfriend, and amidst the bustle of a large, University City, you were feeling like a fish out of water, and worried about finding your place there. Fortunately, your fears were misplaced. You quickly established a core group of friends, and spent the next four years bonding, growing, learning, and partying like a rockstar. By the end of your undergrad, you couldn’t even remember the person you were before you had gone to school. Yet, Stephanie and yourself had still managed to stay close - even visiting each others’ campuses on occasion. That was how you met Jeon Jungkook.

The first time you saw him was at a small pre-drink gathering in Stephanie’s room. She, of course, wanted to take you out on the town and show you a good time. Show off the fabulous life she had cultivated for herself. You were looking forward to meeting him. By the way Stephanie had described Jungkook and their time together, you had assumed that something was happening between them… if they weren’t already in a relationship she hadn’t yet disclosed to you. But when you got there, you quickly became of the suspicion that the life long love Stephanie had found was likely one sided on her part. You empathized with her. You weren’t exactly the best at handling unrequited feelings - you had already gone through a bout of them with your own fellow classmate and temporary fuck buddy. Whereas you dealt with those feelings by talking them out with a pint of ice cream, Stephanie coped with denial and delusion. You wondered how she put up with it for so long. Your friend was beautiful, charming and, by the way the boys of her school tripped over themselves when they were around her, you were sure she could have easily found real, two-way love with the snap of her perfectly self-manicured nails. You wondered who the hell this Jungkook guy was, and what kind of asshole he could have been to not only have this hold over her, but also the audacity to reject her.

But the moment he walked into the party… you understood. He made your heart instantly thump, your mind whip through a reel of fantasies, and your nether regions pulse. He was gorgeous beyond belief. Thick ebony hair, a loose, black t-shirt that somehow was tight over his broad chest, an array of dainty tattoos dancing their way up his muscular arms, and a strong, squared jaw that emphasized both his boyish and masculine features. There was something insouciant about how he walked into a room, and the way he casually scanned the space around him. His dark and brooding aura instantly made you desperate for his attention.

You felt guilty for being even remotely attracted to him - but that guilt also made you completely understand your best friend's misleading banter. If you had to see that man everyday, you too would need to find a way to cope beyond the abilities of frozen sugar.

You met him a few times over the college years, and even several times afterwards, since Stephanie’s friend group stayed relatively in touch and she often invited you along. Jungkook and yourself, however, hadn’t shared many words between you throughout all those occasions. Whenever you were around, he didn’t talk often to Stephanie either, and you questioned if it was because of you, and that he didn’t like you very much. But, of the few times you did speak, he was cordial, still insouciant, and generally a decent person. You could easily describe him as an “artist.” A flower child with the air of James Dean. He had started his own graphic design business and was in high demand; he toured every summer with his indie-rock band; he made decent bank on paintings, photographs and graphic prints which he sold online; and, just because of course he could, also ran a tattoo and piercing salon out of his house.

You had only been to his home once. He had invited his college friends up for a long weekend, and you, of course, tagged along. You didn’t get much of a look inside his home, aside from the bathroom off the mudroom. The home was in the middle of the woods and had the outside appearance of a luxury cabin, but there certainly wasn’t enough room inside for all of you to sleep - so you stayed in tents sprawled across the lawn.

That was the weekend you met Chris. Stephanie had actually set up the meet-cute. He was the brother of one of Stephanie’s friend’s whom she had met once or twice - an unfortunate detail that would become relevant later.

That weekend, it felt as if all the stars were finally aligning. Chris and you clicked immediately, and you unashamedly spent the next four days attached at the hip, and those three total nights “sleeping” in his tent. Stephanie seemed to be finally getting what she wanted as well. She was at Jungkook’s side at every opportunity, and from behind your rose coloured glasses, you were sure something was finally going to happen between them.

Unfortunately, your newly love-drunk perspective was far from correct. Stephanie was in a foul mood the whole drive home. Apparently, she had finally mustered up enough courage to tell Jungkook that she loved him, and he had coldly shut down her advances. She even cried at one point, and you comforted her by dutifully calling him a blind asshole, and declaring that she deserved so much more than him.

After that trip, two years passed, and you were deeply in love with Chris, and Stephanie seemed to get over her Jungkook heartbreak. She respectfully got over him by getting under other lovers. The problem, however, was when she got under Chris. There weren’t many pertinent details to that revelation. You came home one day early from work, saw Stephanie’s car in your driveway and assumed she had been by to drop off a dress of yours she had borrowed for your bridal shower. When you stepped into the house, instead of finding a garment bag hanging neatly at your backdoor, you found her clothes strewn about the kitchen floor, and Chris pounding her over your pristine kitchen counters.

You left without saying a thing. You ignored their terrified cries and guilty apologies. Truly, you felt nothing in that moment. Just numb. You shut off your phone, drove five towns over, and held yourself up in a hotel room.

Inside that hotel room, you experience the intensity of every stage of grief.

Denial. You hadn’t seen what you had seen. This man who told you he loved you, who treated you right, who asked you to marry him - there was no way he was cheating on you.

Anger. Stephanie - the woman who was family to you. The girl who had been with you through thick and thin, who introduced you to your fiancé, whose mortgage you paid when she lost her job and needed time to find a new one, the one who held your hand at your mother’s funeral, the way you did at her father’s… Stephanie, would have the audacity to betray you in the most intimate way possible.

Bargaining. People make mistakes. Perhaps there was a good explanation they could give you - one that could convince you that this affair could be forgiven and forgotten, and everything could return to normal before the “mistake.”

Depression. Realizing you would need to leave Chris. Knowing that you lost a friend. Thinking about just how much physical, emotional and financial labour you were about to endure to pull apart your intrinsically tangled lives.

Acceptance. You were no longer engaged. Stephanie was no longer your friend. You were alone again.

Of all the stages and feelings you went through, anger was the one that ironically made you feel the best. So, upon acceptance of your fate, you returned to the anger stage, and began scheming your payback.

Chris was a pretty easy target. You were an accountant, and he was a fool. Nearly everything you owned together was in your name, since your credit was fabulous, and his looked like he had spent his retirement savings on crypto currency the day before the big crash. Long story short, the man would be homeless, carless, and broke by the time you spoke with him again.

Stephanie was a bit of a different story. You couldn’t get to her by destroying her financial life, and frankly, her social life would bounce back easily. Regardless, that wasn’t how you wanted to get back at her. Chris destroyed your collective life together, so you made him start over in every way possible. Stephanie, however, destroyed your heart. You needed her to feel the loss of love, the stab of feeling worthless, and the sting of betrayal. You needed her to hurt. You needed to take something away from her that she loved so dearly… but the only thing she had ever truly claimed to love (aside from you) was Jungkook.

You turned your phone back on, then went to the bathroom while the millions of notifications flooded your phone. When you returned, you cleared them all with one simple swipe of your finger, then opened up your social media folder.

You hadn’t had Jungkook as a friend on any of your socials, but you also knew he wasn’t much for personal social media to begin with. Regardless, you easily tracked down his business page, but grimaced to find his private messages closed. But there was a phone number…

You looked at the clock. It was nearly midnight. There was no way he kept office hours open until now. But, he was self-employed… so perhaps the phone number was also his personal?

You hovered over the number, seesawing between calling him, or waiting to call him during normal hours, until you nearly convinced yourself to not call him at all. As your feet got colder, you moved to close the phone and toss it across the room - but just before you did, another text message popped up on your screen.

Stephanie.

You once again seesawed between finally reading their messages, or putting the phone back on mute until you were ready to face what either of them had to say. But before you could consciously decide, your finger pressed the notification and the full message popped up on the screen.

It was less than an apology. Although she did start by saying she was sorry, the remaining five paragraphs were probably the most audacious things you could have ever imagine to have read from someone who was trying to apologize for fucking your fiancé. She pointed out that she had in fact met Chris first, and that there had always been a spark. She said that she had given him to you, because she felt you deserved happiness. She said that she felt she needed to stop putting the happiness of others ahead of herself. Then, with all the narcissistic, self-deluded frenemy energy she could muster, told you that if you were a good friend, you would be happy that she had finally found someone who respected her.

You clucked your teeth, now beyond the point of anger. In that moment, years of memories flooded your thoughts. Every backhanded compliment she had ever made to you, every crush of yours she had flirted with, every moment she flaked on you for someone else. They were small moments, and they were surpassed by a mountain of great moments, but you couldn’t help but wonder if they had been signs you had always ignored. Perhaps Stephanie was an objectively bad person, and perhaps you had been too blind to see it until now. Perhaps she was one of those people whose nastiness was subtle, and you were one of those people who gave others too many benefits of the doubt. Well… if provoked… you could be nasty too…

You closed the message, opened the phone app, and pressed “call.”

“Hello?”

Your nerves instantly flared the moment he answered.

“Hey, uh, Jungkook?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Y/N.”

“Hey,” he answered, although there was a clear hint of confusion in his voice.

“Stephanie’s friend. Chris’ fiancé, ” you elaborated, although saying those words tasted like acid.

“Yeah, I know. What’s up?”

You took in a deep, audible breath as you gathered the courage to power through what you wanted to say. Your shotgun plan was to engage in some sort of small talk at first, but in the end, what you were about to suggest wasn’t worth all the discomfort of trying to pretend as if the two of you were close.

“I have a humiliating favour to ask you – and it would be completely fair of you to think I’m insane, but, I’ve already been humiliated beyond belief today, so I’m hoping you’ll at least take pity on me because there really isn’t much further to go until I hit rock bottom.”

He paused for a second, and you could sense even more confusion radiating through the phone.

“Shoot,” he responded, casually bracing himself for what you were about to ask.

“You know, Stephanie has been in love with you since college. She still calls you the love of her life.”

He sighed. “No offense, but I’m really not interested in her, and she’s known that since college. And I’m getting really tired of her ploys to convince me otherwise.”

Interesting, you thought, picking up on how his voice grated when he spoke about her.

“I’m not calling to play matchmaker, Jungkook.”

“Good to know. What can I do for you then?”

“Well… today, I walked in on her and Chris, naked in my kitchen.”

“Shit,” he exclaimed, although something in his tone implied he wasn’t particularly surprised. You skipped past that thought, given that he was fairly indifferent 99% of the time. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thanks. But I didn’t call for pity. My best friend had sex with the man I thought was the love of my life. I would like to return the favour.”

Once again, Jungkook went quiet, and even though it made your heart race and your cheeks heat, you let the silence hang so he had ample opportunity to work out exactly what you were implying. Then, with an even voice laced with intrigue, he asked, “What specifically do you want from me?”

“I want you to fuck me so God damn stupid that the next time I see her, I can’t walk straight.”

You heard a soft huff of a laugh come through the phone. But to your surprise, and to your excitement, there wasn’t much of a pause or hesitation before he gave you his answer.

“How soon can you get here?”

Go to Chapter 2.

[sugar-omi]

i love your baxter posts sm i think you capture his character So well its wonderful fhdkfh theres a lot of talk about baxter and an mc that date and break up in step 3, but what if when baxter asks mc out, they want to say yes but state that they dont think itd be a good idea since he's only staying for the summer? They're very aware that he will be gone once summer ends and they don't want to get even closer with him just to have it end. Im curious what baxter would think, having an mc that fully accepts the fact that he's going to leave their life for good when he leaves Sunset Bird. Just a thought i've had for a little while!

ok im ngl its probably very ooc but i can also see it still being very true to his character bc i think that (especially if you date baxter in step 3 (n marry cove)) baxter regrets letting you go and no matter if you date or not, and he imagines what life could've been like if he didn't cut you off at the end of summer. ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <333 this hurt to write but fuck it made my brain tingle n i always end up writing the most delicious angst

tags : Angst (with/without happy ending), step 3 & 4 scenarios, baxter yearns for reader, option for baxter to have a big crush on you, multiple choice dialogue, requited love, unrequited love

(there's 2 options, one where you and baxter date, and another where you marry cove but baxter having feelings for you is up to you but is most preferred/implied)

synopsis : you reject baxter. how does he react?

he's grateful you're so aware, it makes it easier for when he does leave.

but as he gets to know you better over the summer, baxter starts to crush on you hard, and now he's very conflicted...

on one hand, he's glad you didn't date. he couldn't bear the idea of having to reject you, especially if you asked him to come back or keep seeing you.

but on the other, he sees the way you slide up to cove and tease him, the way you slot your hands together with Miranda and pull her into a dance under the sprinklers...

no matter how he feels, he accepts it easily, and he laughs off your rejection and even thanks you for your understanding, and it's like nothing ever happened.

but sometimes he thinks about what if. like when you fingers touch, or you're laughing, and that mischievous sparkle comes to your eyes and he wonders about what it'd be like if he could kiss that expression off your have and trade it for a flustered one.. but you both know it's nothing he can allow to continue outside of this one and only summer in sunset bird.

and even though he's glad you are so willing to let him go when the summer ends, baxter regrets not being able to let him be someone important, or at least be a common staple in someones life besides being the weird-monochrome-neighbor renting a condo for the summer.

he ends up hurting himself this way, and when he's staring the the ceiling of his temporary home he has regrets.

but in the morning he lets himself fall to the sidelines and tries to make himself a blurry figure in the memories of that summer...

when you meet again and start dating, he's glad you rejected him then. he doesn't think his 19 year old self could have handled pulling away from you. your affection is so tender, you're very gentle with him but firm in how much you love him. and one night he thanks you for rejecting him, and he feels high with the way your laugh shakes his head laying on your chest. "it would've filled me with double the regret to break up with you if we did..."

when you meet again, and he sees how you are with cove while planning your wedding, baxter sees why cove is so clingy with you. you look at him with tender eyes, and you grip his hand in excitement when you have your final session. even he's teary-eyed while you exchange vows, it moves him. but when the final chair is packed up and when baxter walks into his dark apartment. no one is waiting on the couch. no one is creeping down the hall with a sleepy call of his name... he wants what you have with cove. + maybe he even wants that with you.

[starryseth]

Spicy, Spicy

This is how I think Sam, Colby, Seth and Nate would react to reader sending ✨pics✨ of herself while they are filming. For the sake of the story, Stas is your bsf.

"Ugh there is nothing to do. He left yesterday to film the new video." Y/N sighed exasperated to her best friend.

"Ya know, if you want, I have an idea. " Stas replied with a smirk.

"I'm not sure if I like where this is going. But continue. " y/n nervously giggled.

"You know how you were going to surprise him with your new lingerie set? You should send a pic to him of you in it. I have posted some pics on Instagram like that. Except you should do it a little more revealing if you catch my drift. " Stas explained excited. Y/N laughed. Of course only she would suggest something like that. She nodded and said she would let her know the details after she got a reply.

Sam

I feel like they would be about to do one of their seance things that they do and his phone would go off.

Of course sam and Colby being themselves joked about it in camera and was like "I think that was the ghost."

Both Sam and Colby checked their phones. It was Sam's that went off.

"Weird, I wonder why Y/N snapped me." Sam questioned toward the camera. Thinking it was an emergency he opens her snap.

It was her in black lacy lingerie. A set Sam hasn't seen before.

He quickly swipes out of the snap while blushing and turns the camera off.

"Dude what the fuck was that? " Colby chuckles making Sam feel even more embarrassed

"I need to make a call." Sam rushes out of the room

"Hey no dirty talk now! " Nate tells after Sam.

"I thought you were in danger or there was some kind of emergency, you never snap me when we're filming. You gave me a heart attack. " Sam sighed out

"I was bored and stas told me that was the best way to not be. Besides, that was ONE of the several I took for you. Love you, I have to go. Stay safe and I'll call you laterrr." Y/N teased as she hung up.

Sam walked back to the other two slightly agitated because he didn't want to wait until later.

Colby

Sam and Colby were about to start filming their investigation when Colby's phone pinged.

He opens a snap from his girlfriend to see her in Navy blue ribbon lingerie. A new set she bought yesterday.

So because Colby is Colby he had to tease her a bit.

"One sec and I'll be ready Sam. I'll be just a minute."

Colby finds a picture of a wedding dress and sends it to y/n with a message the reads:

"You know, you look hot in that, but you would look better in this. "

Y/N sends a picture back of her blushing saying she misses Colby and he should hurry back home because she has more to show him.

This got Colby fidgety for the whole rest of the night.

What can he say though? He's excited to show his girlfriend the ring he got her.

Seth

Seth and Josh were in the middle of a very intense REM pod session

Seth's phone dinged and they both freaked out. It scared them to the point they almost cried. Or at least that's the case for Josh

Seth steps out of the room after the session is over and opens your message

It's a picture of you in white lingerie with a caption that said "your angel is feeling a little devilish today." It was something simple but y/n knew it was enough to get him going.

Seth quickly saved y/ns picture and quickly replied with "babe. You are in for it when I get back."

"Of course my love, but there's more waiting for you here ;) " Y/N teased

Before Seth had the chance to reply, Josh gagged

"Dude, seriously? Now of all times? We are filming, save it for your personal time."

"Sorry, it wasn't much fault. " Seth claimed innocently while putting his phone up to continue filming

Nate

Sam, Colby and Nate are filming the Chernobyl video and he has been gone for only a day but still had about 4 days before he came home.

Y/N missed her boyfriend a lot. She missed his guitar playing, his singing, his kisses but most importantly his cuddles.

So of course when Stas gave her the suggestion, she was going to make Nate miss her as much as she missed him

The boys were on the way to the village when Nates phone buzzed. It was his wonderful girlfriend probably saying she missed him and loved him

Thinking nothing of it, he opens the snap to show Sam and Colby how much Y/N loves him. He quickly realized that it wasn't what he thought it was and clicked out as quickly as possible.

"Dude. Too much. That was way too much." Colby whined with his eyes closed.

Nate turned his phone away and saved the picture. After that Sam snapped Y/N to explain what just happened.

Everyone was laughing at the funny moment but Y/N thought it would be funnier to send them to Nate in between regular pics of her.

Every time his phone buzzed, Nate would turn it just in case because there was no telling what would be on his screen.

By the time they arrived to the Village, Nate was slightly turned on and beat red from embarrassment.

Sorry for taking so long to post this, I have been traveling with my family. If you have any requests, send them in! I would Love to hear them!