#Cap: *moving back to his seat* your father

[phoenixcatch7]

Okay I know reading cap's mind doesn't work but what if Billy's mind wasn't as protected. Like imagine if the jl got shunted into Billy's mind (idk he wasn't answering his comm so they went to check and got waylaid by sivana or something) and like.

Captain marvel, THEIR all powerful world famous behemoth of a man, sitting at a little fancy tea table, sipping from a floral tea cup: what are you doing here

#captain marvel #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #billy batson #justice league #dc comics #Jla #Old style rotary phone goes off (one of six along the back wall) #Cap gets up and goes to answer it everyone's listening eagerly #'no sorry' *click* #Wonder woman: who was that?? #Cap: *moving back to his seat* your father #1k

[tobiotetsu]

the beast’s beauty

fushiguro toji x f!reader

description: because of your father's mistake, the infamous toji zenin forced you into imprisonment in order to pay his debt. however, what you never expected was to fall in love with the monster he was.

genre: angst, historical au, 18+, mini series

warnings/tags: explicit smut(vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, ) violence, mentions of stockholm syndrome & misogyny, blackmail, character injury, blood, profanity, mdni, grammar mistakes

a/n: to welcome our fav dilf to the jjk screen, here's a little beauty and the best retelling for toji:) reblogs are truly appreciated <3 (taglist: open) (wc:1k)

general masterlist

part one ♕ part two ♕ part three ♕ part four ♕ part five

You never enjoyed the company your father kept. Drunks, assassins, mobsters, gamblers. You would always find yourself pulling him out of taverns in the early hours of 2 to 4 am. Usually, fear would course through women’s veins if they had to enter an establishment of this kind however, that wasn't your case. You were predisposed to bars, and whore houses since you were 10.

Now here, age 22 as you make your way through the liveliest bar in town. The air stank of beer and fresh cigarettes; a smell that you've grown more than used to. Your upbringing was merited to being the only daughter of a single father. Your mother died in childbirth and your father never chose to remarry. When you were younger you thought of it as romantic, but as time went on you saw it for what it really was.

He gained a free pass to hoard whores. Your house doors welcomed a new woman every week. The most motherly advice you gained was how to seduce a man and how to keep your tits perky.

The bar was more full than it usually was. Sweaty bodies stood, all facing the same direction. A poker game was at play. By the looks of the chips stacked in the center, it looked rather intense. Your feet began to move faster as a small anxious feeling nipped at your stomach. Shoving arms and legs, you squeeze into the front of the table.

Two men were sitting at opposite ends of the table. The left side of the table was far more crowded than the right. Women were draped over the man who was seated. A hand covered the majority of his face so all that was in view were his eyes. Dark green eyes shined brightly, even though the mess of dark hair was in front of it.

‘He looked focused’ you thought. He stared ahead, not giving any attention to the women around him. You could see why they were all interested in him. Physically, he was very attractive. His legs were spread out under the table, arms crossed and sat straight. His shirt fit on his body like a glove. His shoulders, chest, and even the muscles on his torso were visible through the cloth.

Before you could notice anything a familiar voice caught your attention. At the other end of the table, you see a familiar ratted navy coat. With a far lonelier crowd, your father was squinting at the four cards in his palm.

“All in” he shouted as he pushed all his chips closer to the dark-haired man.

“Dad!” you jumped to him, clasping your hand on his wrist. As you opened your mouth to protest, a deep voice intercepted.

“Sorry, cap.” was all the man said as he displayed his cards. The faces and noise around you felt dull. Muffled voices and blurry vision were all you had as you watched your father’s cards get trumped by a royal flush.

“How much money did you bet, Dad?” The urgency in your voice was a cover for the panic. He had no money. Whatever money he did earn at his sales job was put towards the tavern and prostitutes. Whatever was left was the sum you had earned at the library.

“Sweet pea, I-I messed up,” there was a shake in your father's voice. One that you had never heard before. “It wasn’t money. Gu- I need to get”

You couldn't understand the slurred speech your father spewed.

“Gu? What are you saying, Dad?” you held your father steady near the back entrance of the building.

“Guns” your body jumped at the sound of another voice joining your conversation. You spun around to be faced with familiar eyes. They look much darker at night. The only thing illuminating the scene was a candle hanging beside the door in between you two.

“He didn’t bet money. Your father owes me guns.”

Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

He must be confused with someone else.

In an effort to clear your father's name you turn to him for reassurance, but all you are met with is disappointment.

“Mmm sorry. I sold the guns and I didn’t have anything else to give” Your father's voice fell flat.

“Dad, What are you talking about? Why do you have guns? What are you in?” your hands grasp his arms and shake his drunk body hoping to shake the truth out of him.”

“Your father works for my business. And he fucked up and sold my guns for bitch money.” the man said. His head tilted to the right, allowing for his face to be seen. The first thing you saw was a scar that ran through the right corner of his mouth. He was taller than you assumed he was. As he inched towards you his size grew.

“What do you want?” your voice dripped in fear.

“Well, your father here, he bet me something to act as a placeholder, till I get my guns.” he fished in his pockets as he spoke those chilling words. He retrieved a small syringe from his pocket.

Your worried eyes turned to your father but before you could protest, rough hands brushed your lips, pressing your mouth shut. You felt your skin break as a cool needle was stuck in your neck. Tears welled up in your eyes as your fear was confirmed.

You felt your own body turning into mush, your muscles stopped protesting the man's actions and started to skin into him. Your back hit his chest and your head rolled onto his shoulder. With what little power you had you flailed your limbs, but all of your efforts were met with failure.

You couldn't hear anymore, couldn't distinguish voices. Couldn't yell and scream at your father for pimping you like a whore to a beast. You didn't know whose voice it was but you were hoping their word was true, as those were the last words that you heard before you blacked out.

“I'll take care of you, I promise.”

[ jjk gen taglist: @meepmoop12w @thepsychicartist ]

#jjk series #jjk x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #toji angst #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro angst #jjk toji #fushiguro toji #jjk angst #jjk.rot

[tainted-liquor]

⋆✦ Keep Talkin' ⋆ [3.11.23] - ft. Miles G. Morales ⋆ Ingredients: Sugar, Smiles, and a lil bit of Salt! A/N! READER HAS A STUTTER. Please keep that In Mind.

“Miles, c’mon…get up-“ You chuckled, using all your strength to shuffle Miles off your body. “Absolutely not.” He blurted, somehow getting heavier than earlier as he further relaxed on top of your chest. “I-It’s almost the e-e-end…fuck” you sighed, growing more and more agitated by the minute. For as long as you could remember, you had a mind that moved faster than your mouth could deliver; words and syllables getting lost on the tip of your tongue every time you attempted to vocalize your thoughts. “Mamita, está bien. vamos, sigue hablando, It doesn’t bother me” Miles grunted, plunging his face further into your soft navy-blue wool sweater.

“Y-y-yeah y-you don’t, I do” you chuckled, feeling the air fill your lungs as Miles hoisted himself off of you. The temperature difference was terrifying; you had gone from a comfortable cozy warm to a sudden burst of wintery air blowing directly on you from the A/C. You pulled yourself off the sophomore lounge’s plush bean bag, stretching and yawning while Miles poured coffee into his matte black water bottle. The enticing scent of fresh brew wafted through the space, invading the senses of anyone who passed by the cozy lounge. “You want some?” He asked, pouring French vanilla, cinnamon, sugar, and caramel into the bottle and giving it an aggressive shake.

You nodded, taking the bottle from his hands and taking a deep swig from the warm cup of caffeine. “Aight, c’mon. You have class” Miles recalled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he guided you out of the dim and inviting lights of the lounge to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the school hallway. “Miles, can we go to…what’s i-i-i-it called…the cafe across the str-..the cafe across the str-street?” You asked, twisting the cap back on his water bottle and handing it back to him without missing a beat. “Yeah, of course, come get me after class,” he beamed, shoving the water bottle back into the side of his blue backpack. You said your goodbyes, slipping into the cold confines of your classroom while you waited for the rest of the student body to cram into their assigned seats.

Tension was high as everyone opened their computers, faces being illuminated by the ghostly white hue of their screens as they got ready to present their Google slides. You’d always been exempt from vocalizing lengthy presentations, but today you wanted to at least try to work through or around your stutter. You got up from your seat as quietly as possible before fixing your ash grey skirt and made your way over to Mr. Talgate’s desk. You felt slightly more confident, or maybe that was just the ghost of pride taking over you from Miles’ reassurance prior. But regardless of what it was, you wanted to present your slides, especially with how hard you worked on them for the past 3 days.

“Mr. Talgate? Is i-i-it…is i-it alright i-i-if I pres-present today? I’m really proud of my slides n’ I wanna try tod-today” You whispered, attempting to suppress that agitating stutter of yours. Mr. Tailgate looked elated, like a proud father who was ready to support his daughter with anything she wanted. “Yeah, of course! You can go right after…uh,” He mumbled, looking over the classroom to see who you could sandwich your presentation in between. “Lisa! You can go after Lisa. But if you ever wanna stop, just let me know…Make a time-out sign with your hands and I’ll let you go, alright?” He smiled, waving you off as you nodded and retreated to your seat. No thoughts were coursing through your head as everyone went up and gave their speeches; one by one, people’s names were removed from the list as your time to speak came closer and closer. 

You fixed everything that you could, reciting your I’s and Y’s and E’s with each passing second. Lisa took any final questions, before giving a warm smile and a thumbs up in your direction, mouthing “Good luck babes!” before collecting her computer and returning to her seat. You gave her a sheepish, lopsided smile in return as you prepped the small podium in the front of the classroom to present your project. You sucked in a deep breath, wrangling your thoughts and lingering anxieties before turning to face your peers.

“Hi! So, m-my pres-presentation i-i-i-is about th-th…the chemical compound Nitrous O-Oxide.  As you can see, there’s-” You began, quickly beginning to feel the epiphany of speaking in front of a whole class setting in. You were doing fine for the most part, until a random voice in the back spoke up, ruining the rest of your day. 

“Yo, does she always fuckin’ stutter like this? We can’t skip her?” He moaned, throwing his hands in the air like he was stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Your blood ran cold as you shut your mouth and clutched the sides of the glazed oak podium. The class erupted in groans of annoyance and shouts of ‘Shut up!’ aimed at the boy as you quickly sat back down at your desk. Your waterline pooled with tears as the boy named ‘Kaiden’ was ejected from class. What a fucking loser.

You barricaded your face in your arms, the tip of your nose ghosting your desk as tears silently trailed from your eyes. The sound of whispers and apologetic glances in your direction went unnoticed as the tinnitus made itself known in your ears, flooding your senses as the pressure on your throat grew heavier. You struggled to control your breathing while you asked the teacher to leave, earning quick confirmation and a gentle pat on the shoulder from Mr. Talgate. When you finally brought yourself out of the classroom, you wiped away the remnants of the salty tears in the mirror that you kept in your blue locker. No matter how hard you dabbed at the trail of tears, no amount of recovery or cleanup would dissipate the feeling of dread that pooled into your stomach every time you went to open your mouth.

Anyway,

Thankfully, that was your last class of the day. All that was left was to find Miles and get some food, and then you could go home to your warm and comforting pink cotton sheets. Your glossy Mary Janes clinked against the pure white vinyl composition tiles, echoing through the spirit-painted walls as you advanced toward the sophomore lounge once more. You pushed open the deep grey sliding door, revealing your boyfriend with his legs propped up on the window seal. He crouched with his knees to his chest, one AirPod in his left ear as he read a bright red comic about someone named Spider-Man. His eyes broke their pattern of scanning over the small font and vibrant pictures, instantly turning over to look at you as he lifted himself off the window.

“Wassup, Ma…You out early, they let you go or somethin’?” He asked, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead. There was a moment of silence as you nodded with a small smile, earning a sideways glance from Miles. There was a thought that itched at the back of his mind, but he went against his better judgment and assumed you were tired and just wanted some food. It was all going fine until he realized that you were 2 minutes away from the familiar French cafe and you hadn’t said a single word. He missed your usual commentary as you passed by buildings, giggled about dogs, and pointed out signs that caught your attention. He glanced over in your direction, observing as you stared at the ground and fiddled with his bandaged fingers.

“You good Ma? You been real quiet lately… what's on your mind?” He questioned as he held open the glass door so you could pass through into the soft, dim, yellow lighting of the cafe. It was virtually impossible to get anything past Miles; he knew you better than he knew himself, that was clear. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you unpacked the events of 8th  period. “Then he said that I shou-shouldn’t be presenting,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the deep brown leather booth just by the back exit. The store was warm and the fragrance of fresh baked goods wafted through the air, something that could always be associated with comfort and relaxation wasn’t doing much to help you relax right now.

“Well fuck him. Fuckin’ dumbass ain’t even had the balls to say it at the front of the classroom…Kaiden failing his classes anyway baby don’t pay that bum any mind. His mama got 2 teaspoons of hair, Déjalo donde está” He grumbled, rolling his eyes as he slid you closer to his side. “Listen, don’t let them niggas hurt your feelings. He a fat rectangle with buck teeth, don’t let that motherfucker bend you,” He grunted.

“Now c’mon, I want a cannoli.”

Tags !!

@ashsostrange @chessbox @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x  @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc

#across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles #e42 miles #e42 miles x black!reader #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader

[axelsagewrites]

Jace Velaryon*Yours

Kinktober Day two: marking with Jace Velaryon – jealous is an understatement for what Jace is feeling so he decides to fix his problems by showing everyone who you belong to

Word count: 1049

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“It would be a great honour to my house if you were to join us my lady,” another man old enough to be your father offered his hand to you and at Jace’s name day celebration no less. There was no engagement between you, no papers or contracts drawn, not even a discussion was yet to be had. But as Jace watched from his seat as you denied yet another suitor, he could feel himself growing impatient.

That night you couldn’t sleep. You wandered the halls of the castles in a far simpler dress than you’d worn at the ball. Despite it being plainer it was already Jace’s favourite as he noticed how the fabric clung to your curves. “My lady,” his low voice snapped you from your daydream and you turned around, pulling your shawl tight over your chest, “Its awfully late to walk the halls alone. Wont you allow me to walk you to your chambers?” he asked but it did not sound like a question as he approached you.

The walk was not long enough for Jace’s liking as you made small talk on your travels. “This is me,” you said softly, your hand reaching for your door handle, “Thank you my prince,”

“Aren’t you even going to offer me a night cap?” Jace said suddenly stepping forward. Your movements paused as you looked up at the man, noticing just how close he was, “After all it is still my name day,” he said, his hot breathing fanning over your face.

Jace made no attempt to conceal his wandering eyes and how they travelled your body, “My prince,” you stuttered out, “it would be improper. I am not yours,”

“You could be,” Jace said, his eyes snapping up to look into your own, “I no commitments, no wife to speak of. there’s no reason we could not choose this for ourselves,” Jace said, stepping closer till his chest was pressed against yours, your back against the hard wooden door, “If you want to be mine that is,”

“I suppose one drink couldn’t hurt,” the words left your lips like a poison and soon the one drink had turned into four and his wandering eyes now explored the skin under your dress.

Jace was sat in a chair, his tunic long gone and left in only his small clothes while you, in just your shift, were straddling his lap. His hands gripped your hips, encouraging you to grind against his hard clothed cock. Your lips were locked in a messy desperate kiss while your fingers gripped his locks.

You whined when his lips fell away but gasped as he began to kiss down your jaw then neck till his lips settled in attacking your sweet spot between your neck and shoulder. Grinding down onto his hard member sent chills up your body as your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Who do you belong to?” Jace murmured against your skin.

“You my prince,” you said, though your voice was light and airy and filled with breathy moans as your hips began to buck.

“All mine,” Jace murmured, his lips latching onto your collarbone sucking harsh spots along your soft skin, “All this for me,” he said, his hands moving to grab your arse under the thin fabric of your shift, “Just for me,” he murmured, his hands traveling to grope your chest.

“Please my prince,” you whined, your head falling back in pleasure.

“Please what?” Jace said, his hand moving to grab your chin to make you look him in the eyes while you begged.

A soft whimper left your throat at the sight of his dark eyes, somehow darker than usual, “I need you,” you whined, your movements slowing but not stopping as you rubbed your clit against his clothed cock.

“Do you deserve me?” Jace asked, his thumb stroking over your cheek softly. “After all you were dancing with all sorts of men,” he chastised.

“I don’t want them,” you pleaded, “Only you, my prince. It’s only ever been you,”

This answer seemed to satisfy the prince whose hands now moved to rest on your hips, “Is that why you wore that pretty little dress? So, I’d have to dream of tearing it off of you?” he asked, his eyes glinting when you gave a small nod, a whimper coming out your throat, “Such a thoughtful girl,” Jace murmured, his hand slipping between your bodies till his fingers ran up your wet slit.

You gasped when you felt his fingers teasing your hole, “Please,” you begged, your hips bucking to try gain some friction, “I wanna be yours Jace,”

The sound of his name falling from those perfect lips made his eyes darken, his cock twitching underneath you. his fingers pushed in, stretching you out perfectly as you gasped. Moans fell from your lips as Jace continued to fuck you with his fingers while his mouth went back to sucking dark spots along your skin.

His free hand roughly pulled your shift down. You shivered as the cold air brushed over your skin but gasped when you felt Jace’s lips suck harsh marks on your breasts before finally capturing your nipple in his mouth. “Who do you belong to?” Jace mumbled against your skin as he felt your clench around his fingers.

“Yours,” you said breathlessly as you chased your high which threatened to spill at any moment, “all yours my prince just yours,” it fell from your lips like a prayer before a loud moan spilled from your lips as your body tightened.

Jace ensured his movements did not stop till you had ridden out your orgasm, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he pulled his fingers out. You practically collapsed into his chest as you tried to catch your breath, “What about you?” you tried to ask but Jace shushed you, his hand moving to stroke your back.

“Don’t worry about me little one,” he said, kissing your head.

A few moments of silence past before you asked, “You didn’t leave any marks, did you?” you asked.

Jace smirked as he thought about the state, he had left your skin in, “Maybe a couple,” he said, knowing full well you would need a high neckline to cover the markings he had left.

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon headcannons #hotd #hotd headcanon #hotd imagine #hotd jace #jace velaryon #jace velaryon imagine #jace velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #modern jace velaryon #modern jace hotd #modern Jacaerys Velaryon #jace velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon smut

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [10]

dad! Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, sorry for the wait and I'm slacking off sorry, not proofread, hurt to comfort.

Word count: 2,9 k

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A/N: thank you guys so much for 3k followers it's insane to me how fast we've grown. Finally a fluff type of part to celebrate!! Also I can't let go of this plot I'm about to make an alternative story on this or some I love human reader too much. Possible villain reader?!

"Papa bubbles!" You splashed your arms against the running water, enjoying the warm water against your skin as the bubbles started forming from the amount of soap Jake put in. You squealed when your father made a move to join you in the bathtub, watching how he struggled with his legs. Not that it helped a lot, but you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his lower back as he was seated on the edge of the bathtub. Jake noticed your intentions and couldn't help but chuckle, "thank you, baby. Watch out I'm going to join you." You obeyed him as you moved to the end of the bathtub, your eyes wandering to the bubbles consuming your tiny figure. Jake pulled his legs inside the tub once he seated himself comfortably opposite of you, watching your sparkling eyes with a satisfied expression. He took your shampoo from the clear box stuck to the wall where all of your wash products remain. "Baby, close your eyes. You know what happens when you get this in your eyes, right?" Your eyes wandered up, watching how your dad opened the cap and squirted some shampoo in his palm. You immediately closed your eyes, slightly tilting your head for the shampoo to glide downward instead of towards your eyes, "yes papa! Burn ow ow!" You recalled the memory all too well of you crying with soap burning in your eyes. "Aren't you a good little girl, huh?" He gave you a quick peck against your lips, making you explode in a fit of giggles. Jake rubbed his palms together, before he moved them to your scalp. He gently massaged your head as he carefully ran his fingers through your locks, "keep your eyes closed baby!" He noticed how your eyes were squinted, peaking through your eyelids to take a look at him. You giggled and kept them shut again, this game of cat and mouse continued until your hair was all soapy. Your dad then gave you his shampoo, knowing you would have wanted to wash his hair. It was a tradition between the two of you every time you bathed together. You pulled the shampoo out of his hold, pulling the cap off with your fingers as you squirted a ton of masculine-scented shampoo in your palm. You might be going overboard though, as you kept squirting until the shampoo dripped past your fingertips, right into the tub. Jake's face retorted as he quickly pulled the shampoo from your grip, "that's more than enough baby! My hair is much shorter than yours you know! It will be a waste and we don't want to waste it, don't we!" He grabbed you from under your armpits, pulling you closer to him so that your small figure could touch his hair. You nodded your head at him in agreement, "papa right!" You tried your best to keep the shampoo from overflowing as you smacked your palms onto his head, his hair covered in shampoo. You rubbed your palms into his hair as the shampoo soaped up into bubbles. At the same time, Jake took a washcloth to clean your skin with. He dipped the soft material into the soapy water, wetting it for him to use. He then carefully rubbed the cloth against your skin, cleaning you of any form of bacteria one couldn't see with the normal eye. You giggled at the touch of the material, it tickled. You molded your dad's hair into two cat ears, smiling proudly at your work, "papa done! Papa is a cat!" You plopped back down on your butt, happy that the warm water touched your cold skin. Jake tilted his head to the side with a grin, "did you make me a cat?! Am I a scary cat at least?! Rawr!" He took you in his arms as he blew a ton of raspberries against your cheek. You fell into a fit of squeals as he did so.

Morning with papa was your favorite thing.

Being with papa was your favorite thing.

"Sissy, I'm here. Do not fret sissy." Neteyam knew he had to see his father, his blood, the person with whom his loyalty lay. But with his big sister being in pain, both mentally and physically, as you cried your heart out, Neteyam couldn't take that sight. You rested in his arms as he sat next to your resting figure, the tears rolling down your face as you kept on apologizing to him. He didn't understand why you were acting like this. You saved him and he will be forever in debt to you for this decision. Screw that, he was in debt to you the moment you saw him as 'little bro Neteyam' and not 'the future Olo'eyktan, son of Toruk Makto', which didn't happen so often. He cradled you in his arms as you sniffed, talking in between your sobs, stumbling over your words as you tried to get your point across. "Sissy take your time. I'm here," he took your hand and put it against his cheek in a way to reassure you that you weren't alone, "I'm here." As a response, you just sobbed louder. All the emotions you tried to keep locked inside your heart were bursting out all at once and it didn't help the situation at all. "I'm so sorry Teyam, I'm so sorry I'm so terrible I shouldn't have intervened I'm so sorry." You hiccuped over your words, your breathing irregular as you felt so overwhelmed. "Sissy, take your time, please. Breath for me? In through the nose, out through the lips?" Neteyam's expression retorted into an incredibly worried one. The mighty warrior was breaking at the sight of his distressed sister. With Neteyam's help, you managed to calm your breathing, following his instructions as the two of you did the breathing exercise. The rubbing of Neteyam's thumb against your skin definitely did you some good, as you finally managed to stop your hyperventilating. "I noticed how dad doesn't spend time with you all, I'm so sorry I will do something about it I swear!" You blamed yourself for this, for all of it. Yet Neteyam just flashed you a smile. How come he wasn't angry at you? He should have been angry at you. "Sissy, we never blamed you. He already was like that way before you came along. So stop worrying sissy, please." You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you in a laying position on the bed. "But he's gonna die, Teyam. Daddy is going to die."

"Dad is strong, sweet sissy. We will go through it, together. You, me, Lo'ak, Tuk, Kiri and mom. We can do it." His words rung into your head as he spoke. Dad was strong, but was he strong enough to survive this one?

"Time is ticking, Jake. You don't have all day you know!" Tommy got up from his seat, walking around the living room as he taunted his struggling brother. Jake really didn't know what to do. Was it selfish for him to live? After all this time? After the way he mistreated his family? After the way he treated you? Wouldn't it be better if he died honorably right now? Died protecting his children? He held his head in his hands as he thought, staring at his own reflection on the ground. Ironic really. He was so happy to give up his human life, yet looking at his Na'vi self right now made him sick to the stomach. Made him remind himself of what led up to what he had become this instant. A tug on his loincloth kicked him out of his thoughts. As he slowly looked up, he came face to face with you. Mini you. Small little precious you. Who looked at him with your wide innocent eyes before everything went into shit. "Papa!" Your voice rang through the living room and Jake couldn't help but tear up. He slowly moved his hand up to your cheek, to touch you, and feel your warmth, but his hand went right through you. "Papa?" You tugged at him once again. "That right there, is the sight of your daughter you failed to watch grow up into what she is now." Tommy stood in front of the couch, hands on his hips as he tilted his head. "You failed as a father, you really did." He brought one of his hands in the air, watching how mini you disappeared when he snipped his fingers. "No! Baby!" Jake tried to wrap his arms around you as you disappeared, but to no avail. You truly disappeared, leaving Jake with a tear-stained face. A picture frame was thrown on his lap. He took it in his hands as the tears rolled. It was the picture he took with Neytiri and the kids. The picture where little Tuk was in his lap as his dearest family stood behind him. Tommy watched his brother with pity, again snipping his fingers, making the picture disappear. "You don't deserve to live, Jake. I was supposed to be in your place and you should be rotting on earth," Tommy got closer to his brother, gripping him by the back of the neck and pulling at him for the twins to make eye contact, "but when do you ever listen to someone else?"

"Ma Jake!" Neytiri basically launched her way into the lab, tail swishing harshly from side to side as she looked around. Her ears were pressed against her head as she squinted her eyes, "where is Ma Jake?!" She pushed her way through the lab, knocking materials over and slamming humans into the wall. But she could care less. The fact that she was in a human environment was one thing. "Mom! Here!" Lo'ak yelled all the way from the back of the lab, his ears perked when he caught his mother's voice. Neytiri's ears twitched at the all too familiar sound of her troublesome son, stomping her way through the lab to follow the sound of her son's voice. "Oh, Ma Jake.." Neytiri's hand made its way to her mouth when she entered the room, watching how bad his condition is. She glared at Norm and Max in the room, her eyes soon gazing at all the unfamiliar machines connected to her mate. "What is all that?!" She hissed at them as she got closer to her mate. They may had a part in the fight against the RDA almost two decades ago, but that didn't mean she fully trusted them. They were still sky demons in her eyes. "Mom wait no! It's helping him! Look, it's showing his heart rate and all that!" Lo'ak frantically pointed at the screens and wires in an attempt to show his mother that everything was safe. Neytiri didn't reply, as she got on her knees and took a hold of Jake's hand. She pressed her forehead against his skin, taking in his warmth as she sobbed. Her sister, her father, her people, her home, her Seze, Tsu'tey. Please, not her Jake too.

"Hey little kid!!" Tommy crouched down as you ran into his arms, hugging his niece with a huge smile on his face. "Looka papa!" You squealed his nickname with a huge smile as you kissed his cheek. Tommy and Jake were twins, lookalikes, so you called Tommy 'Looka papa' instead of uncle: lookalike of papa. It made Jake jealous, as you were his daughter. He would never voice this insecurity, though. There used to be these instances when you were still a baby and the twins were with you at the same time, them passing you to one another as you both called them papa, not seeing the difference at that time. "Hey Tom! Thank you for your greeting!" Jake sarcastically exclaimed as he wheeled towards the two of you, clearly annoyed that you took off to his twin. Tommy chuckled, putting you back down and rubbing your pigtails, "no need to be so jealous, grumpy pa. She's your kid." You giggled as your uncle rubbed your head, bringing your hands up to his hand as you held it. You had no idea what this entire conversation was about and you could care less. "I'm not jealous, you freak. Let's just go get lunch." Jake was still grumbling, turning his wheelchair around and wheeling to their final destination. Your wide eyes drooped as you looked up at your uncle, "papa go?" As response, Tommy took you in his arms yet again, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. "Don't worry kiddo! We are following pa for food! Hungry for eggs?" He tickled your stomach, causing you to squeal. "Yes egg!"

"So? What is it going to be, pa?" Tommy sat back down, slapping his brother's thigh with his hand. This took too long for him. He wanted to go back to wherever he came from and chill. Not play ghost therapist.

"Will I hurt anyone if I go back?"

"Only one way to find out, pa."

Pa. That terrible nickname Tommy called him when he entered fatherhood because of you. Even though it was a terrible nickname, he had earned this nickname by being a father.

He could earn it again by choosing to live and be a better father.

For Neteyam.

For Lo'ak.

For Tuk.

For Kiri.

For you.

"His heart rate is increasing drastically!!" The fast beeps of the heart monitor rang through the room. Neytiri's ears perked up at that sound, gently removing her tear-stained face from her mate, "what does that mean, demon?" Her grip on Jake was tight as she spoke, silently praying to Eywa that that meant something good. Jake rose from his laying position, his body aching everywhere as he did so. He frantically scanned the room as he sat up, his eyes immediately landing on Lo'ak. "Sir I'm so sor-" it hurt Jake to know that those words would be the first thing that his son would say. An apology. And that word. Sir. He despised it. To cut Lo'ak off, Jake wrapped his arm around his son, immediately pulling him into a hug, "I'm glad you're okay, my son." With his other arm, mind you, that was incrediblt bruised and bloody, he brought Neytiri close to him, also pulling her into a hug, "I'm home, yawne." Lo'ak's eyes were wide at the previous sentence. No scolding. No screaming. No words of degredation. Just him. His son. Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan.

"Sissy are you sure about this?" Neteyam watched as you tried to get up, an awkward grip on you as he didn't know how to hold you because of the size difference. You nodded your head as black spots covered your vision, "I'm going to dad. You should check up on Kiri and Tuktuk." But Neteyam didn't agree with this dismission. He wouldn't leave you alone. Not in this state, both mentally and physically unstable. "No sissy, I'm staying with you. You shouldn't be alone feeling like this, let's go." Without listening to anymore of your protests, he carried you in his arms firefighter carry style, your body dangling off yours. "Neteyam put me down!!"

"No!!" He was being a stubborn little brother right now, but you didn't mind. It was actually pretty nice. Neteyam jogged towards the labs with you on his shoulder. There were a lot of pods, so he ended up asking a human passerby, who points them to the lab your dad is in. He thanked the human before continuing on his way. "Sissy open the door!" He crouched a bit as your hands touched the doorhandle of the lab they were presumably in. You obeyed his request as you pushed the door open, Neteyam barging in with big steps, "Where's dad!?" He glared at the humans, who instead of answering gaped at the future Olo'eyktan. "I don't want to repeat myself, where is dad!?" As a shaky voice answered him, his head flinched to face the human, tilting his head to awaiten an answer. The human ended up pointing instead of talking, too nervous to say anything. You quickly thank him, as Neteyam didn't think of replying, your not so little Na'vi brother carrying you to your dad like you requested. Of course he wanted to see his father as well. As the two of you stood in front of the closed door where presumably your father would be in, you opened your mouth to speak, "You can put my down Teyam. It's okay, thank you so much." He smiled at the sound of your voice, his ears twitching as his tail swished from side to side. He obeyed your orders and crouched down, allowing you to step off his shoulders. You still held on his arm though, as you still felt dizzy. Your hand moved to the doorhandle as your breath hitched in your throat. Neteyam looked down on you, giving you a reassuring headrub, "I'll be here." Your eyes wandered to his face as you nodded with a smile, facing the door and pushing it open. All eyes watch how the door opened and you shyly smiled at your father.

"Daddy?"

A/N: goodbye this part is too messy. Might switch to standalone oneshots after "opposites attract" cause this and writing an entire novel truly is a lot. Thank you so much for reading and lmk your thoughts. <3

TAGLIST IN THE COMMENTS.

#dad!jake sully #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x human!reader #dad! jake sully #jake sully x reader #dad!jake x daughter!reader #sully family #sully family x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x sister!reader

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (Epilogue) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The new era. The end of one chapter, and the beginning of another.

Part XIX / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Thank you all so much.

You peer out of the fenestrated walls, eyes glazing over the faint swinging of wooden signs and veranda covers. The ambience around you swirls like a sheer veil as you lean back into your seat, sighing out blissfully as your cooling charm beats with fervor, shielding you from the blistering heat of the summer day. 

Dragging your eyes away from the bright view, you run your finger along the thick cardstock in front of you. The blocky letters begin to fade into the background of snowy mountain caps and faded waterfalls as you continue to trace your eyes over it. 

‘Greetings from OREGON’ 

You flip the postcard over and swipe a finger across the swirly letters. 

‘Hope you’re well, kid. - A. Fiske’ 

A sudden thudding noise echoes across from you, and you slowly shift to sit straight as your eyes drag themselves away from the letters. You tilt your head with a coy smile as your companion leans back to get comfortable, evidently miffed by the unrelenting heat waves. 

“Good to see you, B.” You smile saccharinely, fingers dancing along the chilled cup in front of you. 

Blaise rolls his eyes and places his own drink down on the table—iced americano, simple, bitter, and everything that Blaise wasn’t. You would never understand his fascination with the drink. He huffs before smiling sarcastically at you, “Yes, how long has it been? Two days?” 

“Don’t whine, it’s unbecoming.” You mutter playfully, twirling your straw around the rim of your cup. 

“Merlin, you’re even starting to sound like her. Really, no wonder mother finds you so endearing.” He tuts as he throws his elbow back to rest on the back of his chair. 

You chuckle and shake your head, “Okay, let’s digress then.” You lean forward and cross your legs, “How is Draco doing? Theo is irritatingly uninformed on the topic.” 

“He’s alright, thanks to you and Potter anyway. His father might not be facing a long sentence, but many of the elected Wizengamot heads are shifty even with your statements. Lucius Malfoy has been a slippery eel for a few years too long.” He hums, face unflinching as he sips on his potent drink, “How the mighty have fallen so.”

Nodding, your voice drops lower as you survey the rest of the cafe, “Azkaban will still do a number on him even with a lighter sentence. Narcissa is worried.” 

“As she should be,” he replies curtly, “and speaking of Azkaban, how is Lord Black nowadays? He’s become quite the hermit. Is he faring well?” 

You sigh and rub your chin, “Yeah, he’s just been busy with remodeling. He’s still quite miffed that Reggie and I decided to move out.” 

“At least he has Potter with him.” Blaise supplies, eyes darkening in rumination at the mention of Regulus. He levels you with inquisitive eyes, “Before I forget, what should I send over?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you hum, “How do you mean?” 

“Your house warming gift, daft one.” He rolls his eyes lightly. 

“Just bring your lovely self.” You huff out. 

Blaise crosses an ankle over his knee, “A vase then.” 

“If it clashes with the aesthetic then I’m tossing it into the basement.” You warn jokingly, smiling widely at your friend. 

He shakes his head with a muffled chuckle, “No worries. Anyways, you still need to unpack, right? Need any help?” 

“Oh? Work not keeping you busy enough?” You rest back against your chair, head bleeding with thoughts about how taxing work has been in the past few months with the Ministry trying to dial the reconstruction process to an inconceivable pace. 

Blaise groans at the reminder, taking a long sip of his drink, “Merlin, they should rename the whole Department! Department of International Magical Cooperation? What a joke, all they do is sit in an oval and squabble.” 

You throw your head back to laugh, a feathery light bubble of relief expanding in your chest. It was mind-boggling to think that not even a year ago you were all fighting for your lives, and now the same backdrop of fear that followed everyone around for so many years had disintegrated. People strided through halls and streets with lifted shoulders and bright eyes, war-hardened, but jovial as their burdens gave way. 

Blaise had worked his way up the Department of International Magical Cooperation, often leaving meetings with a sharp migraine and dwindling hope in the frequency of common sense. Theodore was faring well, now a highly revered Unspeakable for the Time Branch, all made possible with his swift denouncement of his father. Draco was the more withdrawn one out of the three, but you held out hope for him, having corresponded with him over his budding fascination for Alchemy. 

You found that your new friends were on your mind often, and you were endlessly grateful to them as they took Regulus’ reintegration into society with stride, often giving you advice on how to politely tell inquisitive reporters to bugger off. Meetings with them were slowly becoming a rarity as all of you became engrossed in work, but your friendships remained resolute as you all quickly became each other’s closest confidants. 

Luna wrote to you often, and you sent her trinkets and snacks by the dozen, finding yourself constantly worried that others would mistreat the girl with the absence of your friend group. Luckily, the girl found a friend in Ginny, and you were looking forward to reuniting with her during her Summer Break. 

Harry and Ron were inducted into the Auror ranks by Shacklebolt only a few weeks after the war. You had your reservations about their decision to jump into such a high-risk job, the stench of carnage and battle throbbing like an open wound, but they insisted that they would never be able to focus enough to finish school. 

On the opposite side of that sentiment, there was Hermione. She had quickly delved back into Hogwarts’ curriculum amidst its reconstruction, and was now looking to you with hopeful words about beginning her own sabbatical. 

You had published your research under both yours and Regulus’ name, omitting information about Regulus’ discovery of sentient portraits as a precaution for the future. 

You both respected Anders’ wish to leave his name off the cover and the research, but he failed to warn you against leaving his name anywhere else, so simply on the first page of your book, you dedicated the findings to him and Asger with a simple ‘For A. & A. Fiske.’ 

The research was groundbreaking, to say the least. You wouldn’t be able to forget the swaths of letters and documents from the Ministry, and one very heated missive to you from Blaise about how he was even more swamped with work, many foreign countries reaching out to inquire about the findings. 

It all paid off though, the royalties you and Regulus got would sustain you both for the rest of your humble lives, and the boost on your portfolio made getting a job in the Department of Mysteries a cakewalk. 

Once the sun rolled across the cloudless sky, the singing blues morphing to hues of pinks and purples, you bid your friend goodbye, wishing him luck with work and promising to gather with the rest of your friends the following week. 

You were certain that apparition was the most useful skill you had in your toolbelt, and you couldn’t fathom how you managed to survive the majority of your life without such a feat. As your shoes pad against the pavement, the bristling of leaves skidding around you, you let out a content sigh as you approach your destination. 

It was the closest thing you had to home for so long, and it still felt like safety and comfort despite the sudden heaviness of your own house keys in your pocket. As you pop the door open, head peeking around the heavy wood, your face lights up as a figure comes into view. 

“You’re home!” You exclaim excitedly, stepping inside with a wide grin. 

Harry approaches you and gives you a fleeting hug, hand raising to adjust his glasses as he pulls back, “Yeah, Tonks let me off early. How was your meeting with Blaise?”

“Good,” you draw out suspiciously, eyes narrowing as you both pace through the dim walkway, “how’d you know about that?”

“Regulus.” He answers simply, eyebrows raising in tease as you huff. 

You both cross into the threshold of the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you see countless manuals splayed across the wide berth of the table. Regulus and Sirius are both hunched over in their seats, flipping furiously through the catalogues. 

“Some light reading, Sirius?” Your voice rings out playfully, body already moving towards your squinting boyfriend. Both men shoot up from their positions and blink owlishly at you and Harry, the sea of papers long forgotten. 

“Furniture shopping, pup!” Sirius replies with a tired grin as he stretches his arms over his head. 

Regulus rises from his chair and meets you halfway, arms wrapping securely around your body as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck. A few more moments pass by before he cranes back and blinks slowly at you, “Birdie.” 

You run a hand through his curls and smile lightly, “Love.” 

Regulus keeps you secure to him as he moves to drop back down into his seat, leaning his head against your stomach as you remain standing. Your eyes drop down to look at the varying bleak images on the shining white pages. 

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes drift around an image of a steep bookshelf with two glass doors, “Is this for us or Sirius?” 

Sirius leans back in his seat and rubs the bridge of his nose, “Your place. Reggie helped me pick out a few pieces earlier.” 

Your eyes wander around the aged cabinets and drabby wallpaper, trying to envision the space in a remodeled visual, one that would be Sirius-esque rather than screaming of cobwebs and medieval torture. You smile minutely before reaching a hand out across the table, bringing your other hand to card through Regulus’ hair as you mutter quietly to the tired man across from you, “I’m happy for you, Sirius.” 

The man reciprocates your smile and clasps his hand in yours, “Thank you, pup. I’m happy for you too,” he huffs and glances at Regulus, who remained immobile against your stomach, “the both of you.” 

The tender moment continues for a few more beats before Harry slowly leans on the seat next to Sirius’, eyes scrutinizing a forgotten pile of booklets off to the older man’s left, “Sirius, where are we going to put a lion table?” 

You snort out a muffled laugh as the man swivels over to his godson with beaming eyes, knowing that Harry would be whining to you later about Sirius’ ineptitude at interior decorating. 

“You should start cleaning up, Remus will be here soon for dinner.” You murmur with a pointed look at the trio. 

As the final outlines of the sun slinks away in the horizon, you and Regulus bid farewell to the occupants of Grimmauld Place, intent on spending the rest of the night in your home. It was fortunate that Regulus had managed to set up the floo network to your home only a matter of days before, and the journey back left little room for complaints as the green flames dragged away from your vision. 

You step out into the darkness of your study room, ears perking imperceptibly when the network flares again as Regulus joins you. The twilight sky filters into your home, dimly illuminating the barren room. 

“We’re home.” You mutter with a content smile. 

Regulus slowly pads towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sways you both. Your eyes are drawn to the French casement windows behind the desk, getting lost in the sight of the dancing flower field. 

“Shall we head to the cliff, birdie?” Regulus muses, eyes following your gaze as he drifts into rumination. 

You nod and reluctantly step forward, pivoting on your heel and dropping a hand onto Regulus’ arm, “I’ll meet you at the front? I need to drop off a few things in the bedroom.” 

“Of course, baby.” He leans over to capture your lips in a soft kiss, hands dropping to your hips as he lightly grips onto you. 

Humming against his lips, you slowly pull back and rub a thumb across his cheek, “I’ll be quick, promise.” 

He pecks your lips again and gives you one last squeeze before he slowly backs away, shooting you a warm smile as he makes his way to the entryway. You retreat from the study room soon after, making a sharp right turn as you pace towards your shared bedroom. 

Regulus had been the one to bring up the idea of getting a beach house, assuring you that he was unsettled by still water and not turbulent waves. It was a quaint building, one that sprouted into the center of a lustrous flower garden, and you both knew it was the one when you toured it. Just a short walk away from the blooming fields, a precipitous cliffside broke away and loomed over a thick landing of sand, giving a small brief from the swaying waves 

As you enter the lusterless room, you shed away your bag and walk towards your bedside table, propping the Oregon postcard against your lamp. Atop the same white bedside table sat Regulus’ old golden frame, now whole and without trace of ever having been shattered. Under the frame, the folded piece of paper that Regulus had given you the night after you bought the property peeked out. 

You grasp both items in your hands, and smile lightly as an idea formulates in your head. 

“Kreacher!” You call lightly. 

The house-elf pops into the bedroom with a curious frown, teetering towards you as you extend the items out. You fish out your wand as Kreacher grabs the frame, muttering a faint engorgio at the rectangular object. The frame wobbles in the elf’s grasp before slowly stretching to nearly thrice its original size. 

“Could you possibly frame this note for me? Maybe above the headboard?” You request with a small smile. 

“Kreacher will do that.” The house elf nods and begins to fiddle with the frame. 

Your eyes run across the note one more time before you hand the slip to the elf, making your way out to Regulus with a fleeting farewell. The boy has a jacket slung over his arm as he waits for you by the door, carding his hair back as a flicker of joy flashes through his eyes when you appear in his line of sight. 

“All ready?” He murmurs once you reach him. 

“More than ready.” You reply with a hum, leaning to peck his cheek. 

The trek towards the cliffside passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re left with butterflies in your stomach as Regulus picks several tulips for you along the way. By the time you’re close enough to the ocean to hear the crashing of waves, you are left to huddle close to Regulus for warmth. 

The sky begins to darken above you, but you give no protest when Regulus drags you to sit down on the ground. He peers up at the sky above him, eyes tracing across the faint twinkles of the approaching stars. 

You bring a hand to trace his chest as you do the same, cradling the flowers to your side as you begin to sift through the reel of memories in your head. 

“I love you, birdie.” Regulus whispers into the air, his arm moving to rest on your waist. 

You smile widely and press your face into the crook of his neck, “I love you.” 

And as you both laid under the stitches of glowing stars, sharing tiny whispers and shielding each other from the brutal winds, back in your home, Kreacher makes the last adjustments to the new wall decor. 

Kreacher mutely assesses the space as he backs out, the elf’s head full of future possibilities.

It was peaceful. After so many years, he felt at peace.

The door closes with a faint click just as the stars peek through the bedroom window, reflecting off the glowing frame. The swirls of inks encapsulated in the shining beams dance amongst the canvas of the wall. 

‘29 October, 1979

I wonder what being in love feels like. 

26 April, 1999

Love is like flying freely from the inhibitions of your burdens, where your person is your wings, your eyes, and your heart; you soar freely with the knowledge that they will carry you above the storms of doubt. I no longer wonder because now I know.’ 

Fin.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @littleshadow17 @chocochannie @bl4stonesc @shari-berri @mrs-billyrussooo @pandemicboredom @gojosbucket @brain-has-left @googie-jeon @lovely-maryj @lokifriggason1 @aloramalfoy @godmitski @justanotherkpopstanlol @hpboysslut2707 @coffeehurricanes

#regulus black #regulus x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black x reader #regulus black fluff #regulus black scenario #regulus black angst #regulus black imagines #regulus black series #regulus black deserved better #regulus black second son #harry potter series #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #the noble house of black #sirius black #hermione granger #ronald weasley #the weasley twins #luna lovegood #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #theodore nott

[keerysfreckles]

reunions — steve harrington

pairing: steve x hopper!fem!reader

summary: during spring break of 86, y/n hopper flies back to hawkins indiana (dustin's request) and isn't surprised when dustin tells her the world might end again.

warnings: bit of angst (ends with fluff), use of y/n and she/her pronouns, a couple curse words

a/n: for my love :) @keerysbrowneyes

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

getting a call from dustin henderson was probably the last thing that y/n thought would persaude her to go back to hawkins after her father died.

after a pretty normal sounding phone call, dustin told y/n that a curse was back in hawkins. y/n knew that could only mean one thing, which explains why she was quick to find a taxi in the busy indiana airport.

the ride to the henderson household was quick, maybe twenty minutes, and y/n knocked harshly on the faded door.

the freshman with a curly head of hair and a baseball cap was the one to open the door, and y/n's worries subsided slightly as dustin smiled up at the girl.

"y/n!" dustin exclaims, before pulling her in for a hug, which y/n gladly agrees to. "i can't believe you're here!"

y/n chuckles, "well yeah, you called, why wouldn't i be here?"

after saying hi to claudia henderson, and petting the new cat of the household, y/n was sat on dustin's bed as he explained to her everything eddie munson told him the previous night.

"so what are we doing about it now?" y/n asks, once she takes in all the new information.

"steve's going to pick us up in," dustin pauses to look at his watch, "four minutes."

y/n's voice is softer than before and her heart beats faster in her chest, "steve's still helping?"

"yeah he is, why?" dustin's oblivious as he's packing multiple things in his backpack.

y/n and steve didn't leave each other on a bad note after the mind flayer situation from the fourth of july the year prior. the pair just haven't talked much since the byer'd moved to california.

dustin and max were really the only two to call the older hopper from time to time.

just as dustin said, four and a half minutes pass and steve's horn could be heard from outside the henderson house. y/n and dustin head to his bedroom door, but dustin stands in front of the girl.

"maybe you should stay here," dustin suggested.

y/n tilted her head in confusion, "weren't you the one who called me and asked me to fly out here to help you again?"

dustin nodded, "well uh- yes, but no one else knows your here. plus we're getting food for eddie right now. i promise after we can pick you up."

y/n thinks for a moment, and dustin's puppy dog eyes aren't helping her situation.

with an eye roll from the girl, she agrees, "fine, but you better come back after you deal with eddie."

with a quick goodbye, dustin's fast to neet steve, lucas, max and robin by the familiar red bmw. steve asks dustin what took him so long, and he just brushed it off by asking which store they were getting food at.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

an hour and thirteen minutes pass, and y/n couldn't be more bored out of her mind. she was able to help claudia bake cookies, clean dustin's very crowded desk, and halfway solve a rubix cube. dustin barged back into his room, making y/n jump from the sudden noise.

"come on y/n! we don't have any time to lose!" dustin practically yelled. "i had to beg steve to come back here since the others are back at the trailer park."

y/n was quick to grab her jacket off dustin's bed and followed him out the door.

steve looked to his passenger side door once he heard it open, but was slightly confused once dustin wasn't the one in the front seat.

"y/n?" steve questions, his eyes as wide as they could be while y/n and dustin were fastening their seat belts.

"hi steve," y/n smiles and catches her breath from the previous running.

dustin pipes up from the backseat, "lovebirds, we don't have time to chat right now. drive steve!"

steve and y/n both ignore dustin's remark as steve pulls out of the henderson's driveway. the drive to back to the trailer park is silent besides the tears for fears song playing on the radio.

the only thought going on in steve's mind is why the hell y/n hopper is in his car. he took notice of the familiar flannel he's seen jonathan wear many times from the past three years, and the faded ac/dc shirt steve recognized from his own closet. how y/n stole it in the first place? steve couldn't question that right now.

after steve parks besides the table with the four other familiar faces y/n missed, steve pulls dustin aside.

"what is y/n doing here?" steve asks.

dustin shrugs, "we need all the help we can get steve, and she's joyce's favorite so of course she was able to come back here in such last minute."

steve's demeaner changes once he turns and sees y/n in a group hug with lucas, max, robin and nancy.

"i can tell you don't totally hate her being here," dustin smirks up at steve.

"hey, no!" steve's quick to dismiss dustin's idea, "okay it's not like that henderson."

dustin laughs and shrugs, "like what?"

steve just watches dustin walk over to the table, and after a moment the harrington boy follows suit.

as everyone sat at the table tries to figure out what's going on in hawkins, steve can't help but look at y/n. of course he's missed her, how can he not? he's kicked himself in the ass everyday for not calling her like he promised. as dustin's in the middle of explaining something to max, steve stands and grabs y/n's wrist.

"can we talk?" he whispers, and is grateful once y/n nods in response. the two walks over to his car and y/n leans against the side while steve paces back and forth.

"why do you seem so worked up?" y/n asks him.

"oh i don't know, maybe because it's another year with this stupid upside down shit. maybe it's because this year's even more stressful than the last. maybe it's because my parents haven't been home in six months. or maybe it's because you're here, and i can't see you getting hurt again from all of this."

steve finishes his rant and runs his fingers thorugh his hair. y/n's gaze softens at the state of the boy in front of her. y/n knew what steve meant by the last statement. steve was the only one able to keep her grounded once she found out hopper was dead, and that she was moving to california.

"steve," y/n voice is soft, in comparison to steve's quick rant. "are you okay?"

the boy's quick to shake his head, "no- no shit i'm not okay." he holds his head in his hands as he leans besides y/n against his car. y/n moves her arm to his shoulder as she stands in front of him.

"the only reason i'm glad you're here is because you're the only one who knows how to deal with me like this," steve gestures to himself. y/n also knew what he meant by this.

after every incident with the upside down, y/n and steve were always in y/n's room as they both calmed down from the events that happened.

"do you want a hug?" y/n asks, while holding her arms open.

steve nods before wiping any tears that could've fallen from his rambling and heavy breathing, and his shoulders instantly relaxed at the feeling of y/n in his arms again.

y/n took in the all too familiar scent of steve. she's missed him, everything about him. his smile, his kindness towards the kids, his hair, his jokes, did she mention his smile?

the two slightly pulled away, but didn't let go of each other.

"i'm sorry i didn't call you a lot since you moved," steve talked softly.

y/n shook her head, "steve you don't have to be sorry about that."

"no, i do have to be sorry y/n. i've been a complete dick to you since you left. i- i didn't call you like i promised. i wasn't able to comfort you when you probably needed it. i've basically ign-"

steve's words were cut off by y/n leaning up and kissing him. once she noticed he wasn't kissing back, she pulled away with a hint of concern filling her eyes.

"you kissed me," steve points out.

y/n nods, her hands not leaving steve's arms, "i uh- i did."

"why?"

"i know it um- calmed you down before. so i thought maybe to try it again. god, i'm sorry. i don't even know if you wanted it," y/n pulls away from steve, as a million thoughts fill her mind, "you could have a girlfriend. you might not even like me anymore like that. shit, i'm sorry."

y/n stops her rambling once she feels steve grab both of her arms, making her face him again after she started pacing back and forth.

"who says i didn't want it?" steve says softly, before pulling y/n back towards him as he's the one to kiss her on the lips.

y/n immediately melts into steve's arms. the pair couldn't care less about the stares and whistles they were getting from the others still sat at the wooden picnic table. steve only flashed his middle finger towards the group before running his hand through y/n's hair.

"as much as i don't want to pull away, we kind of need air," steve chuckles. he lips over his lightly swolen lips as y/n fixes her hair.

"are you guys done sucking face? we have an actual interdimensional being we have to fight," dustin has his hands on his hips, making y/n and steve laugh from their place besides steve's car.

"guess we should get back to them now?" y/n questions.

"mm, just one more," steve pulls y/n in for another kiss, to which the girl happily obliges to.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things #joe keery #joe keery imagine #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader #joe keery x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine

[sapphic-coded]

I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Violence. Some gore. Language that Cap wouldn't approve of. Reader is a messed up assassin. Minors DNI

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: Welp. Here's my first fanfic on tumblr. I only have one chapter written, but I'm hoping my muse will stick with me so I can turn this into a series. This is lightly edited. I apologize in advance for any mistakes you come across (and you most likely will). Minors, please do not interact. Please do not copy/steal my work. Enjoy!

Chapter One: I Thought You Died Alone A Long, Long Time Ago

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992

The silence that filled the car wielded a tension you were all too familiar with. Your father’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel he gripped. A deep frown pulled at his lips while his cold, steel gray eyes stared straight ahead behind a pair of thick, dark framed glasses. His usual tamed black hair was a mess with strands of hair shooting out in random directions. 

Sitting next to your father, up in the front passenger’s seat, was your older brother. He was a tall, skinny boy who had just embarked into his teens. His blonde hair was parted down the middle of his head and reached the tips of his ears. His navy blue eyes stared out the passenger’s window. His lips were pressed tight. There was so much he wanted to say. If you guys were anywhere else, perhaps he wouldn’t hold back. 

Sitting next to you in the backseat of your father’s station wagon was your older sister. She was a year younger than your brother with her long brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Her head was bowed, and her brown eyes were glued to the pages of her book. She was skinny like your brother, but her body was already beginning to shift into adulthood. She had started growing breasts last summer. 

You were the youngest. You had recently celebrated your tenth birthday. You were skinny like your siblings, but still very much a child. Your green camo jacket felt heavy. You were all dressed alike: green camo jackets, dark green shirts, green hunting fatigues, and heavy brown boots. It was the outfit you always wore during your hunting trips with your father.  

Your brother reached toward the car’s radio. Your father’s hand released its vice-like grip on the steering wheel and slapped down on your brother’s hand. You heard the loud smack, and your brother quickly snatched his hand back.

“I’ve had enough of your nonsense.” Your father’s voice rode a current of anger that popped the tense bubble of silence. 

“I just wanted to listen to music,” your brother shot back. “Sitting here in silence is boring.” 

Just like that another argument between your father and brother started up. You looked over at your sister. She was very much focused on her book. Your attention drifted over to your window. You did your best to tune out the argument happening up front while you watched the scenery of trees roll by. Eventually your gaze dropped to your lap. You stared at the dried blood caked around your fingernails. 

“...pointless and–”

“You are cowardly and weak!”

You can’t believe the weekend is almost over. You had spent the whole weekend out hunting with your family. Your father had parked his station wagon in a lot and marched you all out into the woods. You all had spent the whole weekend laying in the cold mud. It was your brother’s hunt. You were all following his lead. Which meant mostly laying in the mud and following tracks every so often. This weekend was supposed to end with your brother’s first kill. Instead, it ended differently. 

The engine of your father’s car stopped as you reached your house. The argument between your brother and father had ended, but you cannot recall when. You undid your seatbelt and opened the car door. The moment you stepped out onto your driveway, your attention landed on a moving truck parked across the street. A man and a woman were busy unloading boxes out of the truck and carrying them into the house. 

You noticed something else. A girl around your age with blue hair came out of the house and walked down the driveway towards the moving truck. Her pace slowed as she noticed you. You lifted your hand in a small, friendly wave. A smile had started to curl at your lips when your father’s voice called out to you. You turned away from your new neighbors and found your father standing in the garage with his hunting rifle hanging from his shoulder. You made your way up into the garage where you felt your father’s hand fall gently onto your shoulder. 

Amsterdam – 2010

You hate these jobs. Long relentless days spent circling your target. Never able to strike just yet. You had to put on a show first. Pretend to be their friend, or a business partner, or their lover. You had to act as if your target was important in some flimsy life you threw together. Your kills were always messy at the end of these jobs. You can’t help it. You just want the stupid job to be over. 

And it almost is. You have spent the past four days pretending to be your target’s bodyguard. Four days spent following your target around. You dealt with their problems and waited for the day all your targets would be together in the same room. Because the job wasn't just to kill the target you were pretending to protect. Your target and their friends had messed up. They had pissed off the wrong people. You were there to clean up the mess. 

Your target had set the long awaited meeting to take place in a fancy hotel in the middle of the day. The guest list for this meeting would be short. It included your target and you, his business partners, and their private security. The meeting wasn’t scheduled to take long. It was supposed to be a simple transaction. An easy exchange of goods and money. The details of that particular transaction did not interest you. Your interest lingers on your plan to take out all your targets. 

The dark brown shoulder holster that you wore over your white, button-up, collared shirt held one of your favorite guns. There was nothing overly special about it. It was a standard, black 9mm Beretta handgun. It was reliable in nearly all your jobs. It was your favorite because it had been your first gun. A present from your father. It marked the end of your training and the beginning of the rest of your life. If your job was to take out just the one target you had been following around, then the choice would have been easy. But the job required the elimination of all your targets. Since the other targets were bringing their own private security, once you made your move you would need to finish the job quickly. 

But the job didn’t specify that the kills had to be quiet. 

You pull on your gray suit coat. Your shoulder holster disappears from view as you stand before the mirror and button the coat. Matching gray trousers cover your legs and the black flats you wear bring a smile to your face. This job was almost over and soon you would be busy getting yourself as far away from here as possible. Hence why you chose the flats over heels. You run your hands down the length of your suit coat to smooth out any wrinkles. Your hair is pulled back into a professional, tight bun. Your right hand dips into one of the suit pockets. The pad of your finger brushes against the small, round marble nestled within. 

When your target is ready, you follow him out of the hotel room he rented and down into the hotel lobby. You follow him across the spacious lobby and into a large boardroom. As the door clicks shut behind you, your eyes survey the room. A long mahogany table commands most of the space within the room. Situated around the table were identical black office chairs. Far more than necessary for this meeting. Sitting in four of the chairs were your four other targets. Standing behind each of your targets were their own bodyguards. Sunlight poured into the room from the floor to ceiling glass windows that ran along one side of the room. 

You follow your target over to one of the chairs. He takes a seat and you stand behind him. Your gaze briefly returns to the other bodyguards. All tall, imposing looking men. They stand as still as statues, and you wonder how they do it. Do they enjoy following around power addicted fools? You spent four days with your target, and you can’t wait to kill him. 

“Where’s Tyler?” your target asks as he settles into his seat. 

“Running late,” your other target answers. 

You tune out the insults your targets direct towards the currently absent Tyler. Instead, you wonder what this peaceful boardroom will look like in the next ten minutes. Or however long it takes for Tyler to show up. There will definitely be blood. Broken glass was also a given. You doubt the chairs will make it. The hotel will definitely need to buy a new table. But you wonder if you’ll get a chance to see their faces. Just one. It’s the part that fascinates you the most. Your target’s last moment etched across their face. It reveals so much. 

The door to the boardroom opens and the conversation shared between your targets dies into an awkward silence. You turn in time with everyone else as Tyler steps into the room alone. The first thing you notice is that he is sweating. A lot. In his shaking hand he holds the handle of a briefcase. His free hand raises up and he runs his fingers through a disheveled mop of dark hair. 

“Sorry about the wait,” Tyler says. 

“Jesus, Tyler,” your original target replies. “You look like shit. Let’s just get this over with so we can all go home.” 

Tyler nods and hurries over to the table. He sets the briefcase down and opens it. One of your other targets reaches into their coat pocket and pulls out a brown wrapped parcel. The size and shape of the parcel is clearly money. With everyone’s attention on Tyler and his suitcase, you causally unbutton your gray suit jacket. 

“Just so everything is clear,” your original target addresses the others. “You give us that.” He gestures to the suitcase. “You take the money, and we don’t hear from you ever again. You don’t mention us and we don’t know you. You don’t come looking for this because it doesn’t exist.”

Tyler nods. 

“We still haven’t discussed how we are dividing our profits,” another target says. 

“We’ll discuss it later,” your original target replies. 

As the conversation shifts into another argument, you decide that this is as good a time as any to wrap things up. All your targets are in place with a few bonus players. It is time to put these boring four days behind you. As your hand moves towards your pocket, you spot one of the other bodyguards quickly lowering his head. His hand lifts up to press against his ear. You still your movements as you watch the other bodyguard. 

“We just lost our comms,” the bodyguard’s voice cuts through the argument. 

Your hand abandons its journey towards your pocket as your original target turns around in their seat to look at you. The question written plain across their face is one you can’t answer. Maybe if you had any comms to worry about then you could make a solid guess as to why they are suddenly down. But you don’t. And while you have no interest in who the new mysterious player is, you do get the sense that maybe you really should wrap this up. Quickly. 

You mimic the other bodyguards as you reach for your gun. Your fingers manage to brush against the holster’s leather before a faint beeping sound pulls your attention over towards the door. Something small and metallic rolls out from underneath the door. It rolls across the floor towards you and your gathered targets. You can barely make out what it is from where you are standing, but the quickening frequency of the faint beeping causes you to turn away from it. 

The white light that explodes from the weird object swallows up the entire boardroom. You close your eyes as the explosion drowns out the shouts from the other bodyguards. Your ears are ringing when you open your eyes. The shouts from your targets are muffled as they all scramble from their seats. The wall of glass windows shatters as men in black tactical gear attached to wires swing into the boardroom. The bodyguards who had managed to pull out their guns immediately exchange gunfire with the uninvited tactical team while your targets scramble to avoid getting hit. 

Well, you hadn’t planned to end this job on a neat and tidy note. Things were about to get really messy. 

You pull your gun from its holster and aim it at the first tactical newcomer that pointed their gun at you. Your finger squeezes the trigger, and you watch with satisfaction as their head snaps back from the bullet barreling through their forehead. Their body goes limp and drops. You spy one bodyguard already dead with their chest riddled with bullet holes. 

A second tactically geared newcomer turns their attention to you and is quick to fire. You quickly duck underneath the fancy boardroom table. Bullets from your enemy’s gun rips through the wood above you. You take aim at the guy’s leg and fire. The guy’s cry comes through crystal clear as he drops to his knee. You can’t fight back the smile that curls your lips as you maneuver your way out from underneath the table and fire off another round where you’re almost certain his mouth is. 

Another bodyguard has joined the other dead one on the floor while the others corral your targets behind them as they continue to exchange gunfire with the uninvited guests. Except, Tyler darts out from behind the weakening wall of bodyguards and rushes towards the bullet ridden table. He snatches up the briefcase and hurries towards the door. The other targets hurl curses his way as you lift your gun and aim at the back of his head. You are about to pull the trigger when the door Tyler reaches flies open into him. Tyler stumbles backwards, trips over his clumsy feet, and falls backwards. The briefcase slips from his grasp and slides across the floor and stops at your feet. 

Your attention, however, is not on the briefcase. It’s not even on Tyler who is groaning and still alive. Your eyes are glued to the person who steps through the doorway and into the room. You recognise her face immediately despite her red hair. It’s long and tied back away from her face in an intricate braid. The black catsuit she wears bears the symbol of SHIELD on her shoulders. The identity of the tactical newcomers pales in comparison to the way her olive green eyes widen slightly in recognition. Old memories, so long buried that you are shocked you can even remember them, creep in. The gun in your hand never wavers as you find your old friend at the business end of it. 

“Y/N.” 

If there were any doubts, her voice banished them. It’s her. 

“Put down the gun.” 

It’s as if a floodgate has opened. The memories are countless despite the fact that it had only been three years. So old and forgotten that they feel new. They smother the job that has taken up residence within your mind. You’re here to kill your targets, but all you can think about is the last time you saw her. How abrupt her departure had been. You remember your father’s rants about her family. 

Slowly, you lower your gun. She takes a step forward. Tyler’s groans stop, and he lifts his head up. He reaches for the briefcase at your feet. You point your lowered gun down towards Tyler’s head and pull the trigger. Your friend’s advance stops as blood and pieces of Tyler’s brain paint the floor and the briefcase red. One target down. 

The smoke pours from your gun as you gauge her reaction. The recognition you saw earlier is gone. Her face is a mask, and the frustration you feel is so familiar. 

The last of the bodyguards drop and your remaining targets are completely exposed. The remaining tactical guests close in on your targets except for one who breaks off and starts towards you. You ignore the orders the man shouts at you. Instead, you kick the blood and brain matter stained briefcase underneath the ruined table. You start to raise your gun, but the tactical guest already has his finger on the trigger. He fires and you are quick to dodge out of the way. The bullets dig holes into the wall behind you. You kick one of the office chairs at the man. It collides into him and he stumbles back. You raise your gun again but the moment you squeeze the trigger, your legs are swept out from underneath you. The bullet you fired finds a home in the ceiling as your back collides with the ground. 

Before you can move, a weight settles on you. Hands pin down yours. Strong legs straddle you as your friend’s face fills your vision. 

“Stop, Y/N.” There’s more force behind her words this time. “Don’t make me hurt you.” 

You almost laugh. Almost. Maybe if your job was done then you could have spared a moment or two to revel in your friend’s joke. But you were dangerously close to losing control of this job. You pull your legs up and manage to throw your friend off of you. You roll onto your knees and go to stand when the man you had kicked the chair at slams the butt of his gun into your jaw. Your head snaps to the side and blood fills your mouth. 

The childhood memories that have been distracting you vanish as you spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. The man turns his gun back around to point the barrel at you. Your hold on your own gun remains firm as you look over your shoulder towards your friend. She’s on her knees as well, but that is all you are able to make out as you quickly drop back down towards the floor. A small, short bluish bolt flies barely an inch over your head and lands on the guy who hit you. Blue strings of electricity wrap around his chest as he drops with a shout. 

You scramble to your feet and head for the door. Your hand digs into your suit pocket and your fingers close around the small marble. You can hear your friend catching up to you as you pull the marble from your pocket. Your thumb presses down on the miniscule button barely noticeable to the eye. As you quickly near the door, you drop the marble. It rolls towards your remaining targets. The moment you make it out of the boardroom and into the lobby, you feel her hand close around yours. You yank your hand hard from her grip and turn quickly while raising your gun. 

You find yourself staring down the barrel of her gun. A smile creeps onto your face as you hold your gun steady. Unfortunately, your friend doesn’t find this amusing. 

“Put down the gun.”

“You first, Nat,” you reply. 

Her gun stays pointed at you when it finally happens. The boardroom explodes into a hot, blazing ball of destruction. The force of the explosion sends both of you flying further into the spacious lobby. You both hit a fancy looking pillar before dropping with a hard thud to the ground. Despite your body’s screams of protest, you are the first to climb back onto your feet. You look down as your friend starts to move. Still alive. Your gun feels heavy in your hand as that single thought runs laps through your mind. For the first time in a long time, you feel excited. 

“Sorry, Nat,” you say as you slide your gun back into its holster. “Gotta run.” 

You leave her there and make your escape. Slipping away from the scene that has now drawn a crowd is as easy as breathing. You hardly think about it. And with nobody chasing you, it’s almost painfully easy. But the further away you get, you know that’s not entirely true. She isn’t chasing after you now, but she will. You hope so. You miss your only friend.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #my fanfic #fic: i swear that i don't have a gun

[gejo333]

An Unexpected Match XII

Pt. 1

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Summary: What does Miguel have up his sleeve during this graduation vacation gift?🤔

OMG, I am so so so sorry that I haven’t updated in a while. I moved abroad so I’ve been adjusting these past weeks. Also this chapter is extremely long which was another reason for the delay. Another reason might be that I know this story only has a few chapters left before it’s over🥺 so I want to savor it more.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy!💕

Wc: 8.5k

————————————————————————

Luckily you only were taking two classes for your last semester of college, as you were able to still keep high grades even though you were recovering from the accident.

Over the course of those weeks you did have to testify in court for the kidnapping and endangerment of Gabi and the attempted murder on you by Sofia. Although you kept your composure, you wouldn't deny that you were grinning from ear to ear to see her in an orange jump suite and cuffs looking miserable.

Today was your graduation and luckily you had healed enough that you weren't limping anymore and you could wear the heels you had bought months ago specifically for your graduation dress.

You looked in the mirror of the bathroom making sure your makeup, hair, and outfit stilled looked just as good as it did back at home. Though you were excited to finally get your degree with your piers your nerves were going through the roof. What you really wanted was to be at the graduation dinner with your boyfriend, daughter, brothers and best friend. You decided to still invite your parents, not being that cruel to not let them see you graduate. But you really didn't want to interact with them, which you knew sadly will not go your way. You feel bad for Miguel as he has no choice but to sit next to them. You hope your brothers were in between him and your father.

"You look fabulous!" You turned to see Stephanie as she walked into to the bathroom also wearing a dress with the cap and gown.

"You look amazing too, Steph!" You smile as you hug her before she checks herself in the mirror just like you had done. She took out her mascara she hid in her small purse as she touched up her eyelashes.

"Girl, I can't believe we're graduating! It's insane. You're going to work at Alchamex and I'm going to grad school here. Super excited for the next chapter in our lives! Especially for you girlie, I think I hear wedding bells in your near future." Stephanie smirked as she looked at you.

"First off, I don't know if I got into Alchamex yet. I should hear next week. And you really think he might propose?" Your cheeks turn pink as your smile widens to the thought of Miguel proposing.

"You're definitely getting that job. And I have this feeling. Like maybe sometime this summer he'll do it. Damn girl I don't think either one of us would have thought that one of us might be married before 25." Stephanie chuckled.

"Well, we don't know he's going to propose. But like it's not like it hasn't been talked about." You check the time on your phone as you take a deep breath before sighing nervously. "It's time to line up."

You and Stephanie line up, her one person a head of you. She turns around smiling both anxious and excited which you return before the announcer begins the commencement.

As you walked out on to the lawn and towards your seat you looked around in hopes to catch Miguel's gaze. Sadly you couldn't find him as the audience was far too large. You made it to your seat, sitting down while you listen to the speaker.

After some time had passed they finally begin to call out names as people begin to line up. Your heart begin to beat quicker as the line continues to get closer to the stage before you know it, you heard Stephanie's name being called as she walked on to the stage to receive her degree.

"Y/n L/N." Spoke out the announcer. You smiled  as you walked up on to the stage to receive your degree. The crowd cheered as they did for everyone. You hoped to have caught a glimpse of your people, but sadly you couldn't spot them.

After getting back to your seat you sit with jitters the rest of the commencement as you want to go see Gabi and Miguel.

After another two hours, finally the time came for everyone to reunite with their loved ones.

"Ahh we did it!" Said Stephanie as she holds up her degree which you join her in as you both scream in excitement. You both then make your way through the crowd to try and find your group. Of course it wasn't too hard as your 6'9" boyfriend stuck out from the crowd. You grab Stephanie's hand as you guide her towards the group. Once you got closer, Miguel's eyes locked on you as his smile widened.

You quickly get to him as he opens one of his arms wide, the other carrying Gabi who was wearing a matching colored dress to yours with a pretty headband. You wrap one of your arms around his waist.

"Mama! I saw you on the stage! I waved!"

"I wish I was able to see you, but there were just so many people. I love this dress. It's so cute." You smile as you caress her cheek.

"We match!" She smiled excitedly.

"We do! I love it." You smile at her lovingly.

"Ok ok, it's time for Papa to congratulate you now." Miguel chuckled as he leaned down and captured his plush lips with yours before pulling away. "Congratulations, mi amor."

"Congratulations y/n. Welcome to the real world." Said your older brother Jack as he came over with Stephanie by his side.

"Thanks Jack. So should we head out."

"Not yet. Mom and Dad want to see you real quick and congratulate you." Said Liam as he walked up to the group, followed by your parents. Even after your accident your relationship with them is still on thin ice. If they just accepted your relationship with Miguel then you would be more than happy to forgive them. However as they join the group their smiles falter as they glance over to Miguel.

"Congratulations sweetie, we're so proud of you. All that hard work really paid off." Said your mother as she tries to hug you which you awkwardly accept.

"Thanks." A half-smile was awkwardly placed on your lips. "I'm lucky I was able to finish this year." You couldn't help yourself from saying the snide comment.

"Well you understand our reason why." Added your father.

"And you understand why I'm going to continue to ignore you both."

"It's just ridiculous, it's so hard to attend local events because of-" your mother went off before she was interrupted by Miguel.

"It's getting close to our dinner reservation, so we're going to go." Miguel lost his smile as he stared down at your parents.

"Fine. Can we at least see you for dinner tomorrow or Sunday to celebrate?" Your mother offered. You sighed about to accept it, so that they'll be off you back off for a while, however before you could Miguel spoke up.

"Actually she won't be available this weekend." You looked up to him brows furrowed, curious to his response. He sighed before looking at you with a loving smile. "I was going to surprise you later with your gift, but you and I are going on a weekend vacation." Your eyes widen as a surprised smile replaces your awkward one.

"Can I ask where?" You chuckle.

"Sorry Cariño that's a surprise." Miguel chuckled as he kissed the side of your head.

"Well, we're going to leave." Said your Mother with an unamused expression as she and your father left. "Liam come on." She added.

"But I want to go out with them." Liam complained.

"Listen to your mother Liam." Added your father.

"Dad it's fine. I'll pay for him and drop him off." Offered Jack.

"Fine. Be back by 8." Your father said before catching up with your mother.

"Ok let's get these solemn faces some food and liquor to celebrate y/n and I graduating." Cheered Stephanie which made everyone smile and laugh as you all head to your designated cars to head to the restaurant.

Dinner with your brothers, best friend, and family to celebrate was great, but eventually it had to end as you all went on your way back home.

Miguel opened the front door, letting you go in first as you were carrying the sleeping Gabi. You both went upstairs as you helped change Gabi into her pjs before tucking her into bed. Both you and Miguel sit there on the bed gazing at her peaceful state.

"Is it possible to have her stay the way she is?" You whisper as you gently brush some of her hair away from her face.

"I wish there was a way." Miguel replied as he smiled down at her before placing a kiss to her forehead and standing up from the bed. After you repeated the gesture he held his hand out for you to take and help you off the bed, just out of kindness and for some contact with you.

You both walk back to your shared bedroom as you take a seat on the edge of the bed to rest for a second, as the exhaustion starts to take a toll on you. Miguel comes out of his closet, shirt unbutton, revealing his chiseled chest, which you couldn't help but glance at with a small blushing smile.

"You like what you see?" Miguel chuckled as he made his way over to you and sat next to you before putting your legs on his lap.

"I do."  You grin as you get on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Miguel places his arms around you to bring you closer.

"Hey, I have something to tell you." Miguel smile was wide and infectious as you smiled back at him.

"What is it? It must be good if you're smiling like that."

"I got a call from Jess my colleague at work. She said you got the job."

Your face turns to surprise before smiling again. "Omg, no way. Really?! I thought I wasn't suppose to find out until next week?" You hug Miguel which makes you both fall onto the bed, both laughing. You ended up straddled on his lap. You leaned down and kissed him. While distracted he flipped you around on the bed so he was above you.

"I might have pulled some strings to get your response sooner. Jess said that your resume was phenomenal. Actually you were the top person out of the people selected." He said before leaning down to kiss you. "Now you are stuck with me." He added placing another kiss to your lips.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." You chuckle as you happily return his kiss, You wrap your arms around his neck to deepen it and savor the taste of his lips.

"We should get some rest we have to wake up early to catch our flight. And Gabriel is probably going to be here earlier than planned." Miguel sighed giving you one last kiss before laying next to you and pulling you against his side, resting your head on his chest. You turn your head to look up at him.

"Where are you taking me Mr. O'Hara?" You smile as you trace your finger over his chest and abs.

"Like I said before, it's a surprise, cariño. You will find out when we get there." Miguel chuckled from your teasing tone.

Your hand trail down his abdomen where you loosened his belt and pants, and lowering your hand into his boxers. A sigh escaped his lips as your wrapped your hand around his half-erect cock. You begin to move your hand, " will this convince you to tell me?" You batted your eye lashes at him, which made him chuckle lightly as he relaxed against your touch.

"Sorry hermosa. Not telling you. But you can continue with what you're doing though." Miguel whispered in your ear. You smile as your roll your eyes from his response. You lower his boxer so his now erect cock, dripping with pre-cum bounced out against his stomach. "You're lucky I've been so horny lately since I was only cleared this week to be able to have sex again." You chuckle as you straddle him, positioning him before you lowered yourself as you let out a moan. Miguel rest his hands on your hips as he begins to thrust up into you instantly hitting your sweet spot.

"It has been a very fun week since that check-up." Miguel chuckled as he let out a groan. Not being allowed to have sex for so long during your recovery, making each time this week even more sensational. As soon as the doctor had cleared you, both you and Miguel couldn't even make it back to the house, fucking on the sink in the private bathrooms in the hospital and once in the car in the garage before barely making it to the bedroom. Let's just say neither of you have had any rest this week.

You move your hips along with his. You throw your head back as you feel his tip hit against your cervix. "Fuck I missed feeling you so much. God you're still tight even though I've been fucking you non-stop this week."

Miguel's grip on your hips grew stronger as he fucked you faster, making the knot in your stomach grow tighter and release as you let out a breathy moan. "Miguel."

Your voice sent him over the edge, as he thrusted into you, spilling inside your inner walls. You collapsed onto his sweaty chest as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead before removing himself from you, earning a small moan from your lips. Of course your voice made his cock go hard again.

"Guess we're not getting any sleep tonight." He breathed out before thrusting back inside you.

——————-

It was the early morning hours of the next day, the sun not even out yet when you heard the doorbell ring. Both you and Miguel got up an hour prior to get ready and packed, barely running on two hours of sleep.

You go to Gabi's room as you go to her bedside and kneel down. "Hi baby bug. Tio Gabi is here. Papa and I are going to leave soon, do you want to say goodbye?" Your soft tone woke her as she rubbed one of her eyes trying to get the sleep out as she yawned nodding her head. You lift her out of the bed and walk out of the room. You smile as she rests her head against you, her eyes trying hard to stay open.

You walk down the steps towards the two brothers in the entry way where your two suitcases sat.

"Someone wanted to say goodbye." You say as you bring Gabi over to Miguel, who smiled lovingly at his daughter as he took her into in his arms and gave her a kiss to the cheek, "goodbye princesa. Mama and I will miss you so much. We'll see you on Monday." He gives her another kiss on her forehead. You then stood right next them as Gabi squirmed out of her father's hold as she wanted to go back in your arms.

You happily took her as you held her close to you as you gave her a kiss to her forehead. "Aw we'll miss you baby bug. If you ever miss us just ask Tio Gabriel to call us."

Miguel comes back inside the house after putting the bags in the hired car. "It's time to head to the airport."

You keep holding Gabi as you comb your fingers through her hair, which calmed her down when she felt anxious. "Ok baby bug, we have to go now. I'll miss you so much."

Gabi clung to you not wanting to leave your arms, which made your heart ache, making you not want to leave her.

"Come here mi pequeña sobrina. We'll have a fun weekend. We'll go to the movies, the park, and eat all the junk food we want." Gabriel said as you handed Gabi over to him. His words perked her ears and made her eyes widen with excitement. "Yay!"

Miguel rolled his eyes at his brother, not ready to have to deal with a sugar-high child when he comes back. But as long as his daughter was happy he would be happy.

After saying your last goodbyes you and Miguel enter the back seat of the car as it drives off towards the airport. The smooth ride plus the warmth of sitting right next to Miguel made your eyes grow heavy before closing.

What felt like only a minute later you feel lips pressed to your hand. "Wake up, mi vida. We're here." Your eyes open to see Miguel smiling down at you. You lift your head from his shoulder as you smile up at him. "Oops, I must have fallen back asleep." You chuckle. You both get out of the car. Eyes widened slightly shocked to not be in front of the airport drop-off but on the tarmac with a private jet 10 feet from where you stood.

"You ready, cariño?" Miguel placed a hand on your mid-lower back. You look up to him with a smile as you both walk towards the jet. When you entered you were amazed by the luxurious scene before you. Light tan leathered cushioned seats.

You find a seat by the window as you look outside the window, smiling as you begin to see the sunrise. Miguel sat in the chair in front of you. He extends his hand across the table to rest on top of yours.

"Is everything alright? You have a surprised look on your face."

" Everything is perfect. I guess it's a mixture of still waking up and coming to the realization that I'm on a private jet." You smile as you intertwine your hand with his.

"Ah I see. Well let's make it an amazing first time." He gestures for the flight attendant, who brings a bottle of Prosecco and two glasses. Once they were filled you clinked glasses and took a sip, neither of your eyes left the others.

Throughout the plan ride you still tried to convince Miguel to tell you where you were going. And every time he wouldn't tell you, only giving a toothy grin and a chuckle as he would say, "lo siento mi amor. Not happening."

In between that you both would have conversation either about Gabi and her changing schools next year, talking about you starting at Alchamex, or just random things on each others' mind. Plus a few fun activities in the bathroom.

Finally the time came that you would find out where you would be going, seeing the view from the window. However, Miguel, being sneaky had all the windows close so you couldn't see it. Your pout made his heart swoon as he gestured for you to come over and sit on his lap.

"You'll find out very soon." Miguel lightly took your chin as he kissed you. The kiss lasted a bit longer turning slightly heated, but before Miguel could get his tongue in your mouth you removed your lips from him earning a pout on his face, making you chuckle.

"Sorry Miggy. Not happening until I know where we're going." You press a quick kiss to his lips before getting off his lap and back to your seat. You grin mischievously at him knowing you've poked the bear who stares down at you with lust-filled eyes.

Another 20 minutes and the jet landed. You and Miguel got up and towards the now open door. You stepped outside as you felt the warm salty breeze that was so familiar to you.

"It's nice to be back in Miami with you cariño."

You look up at him both eyes and lips smiling in excitement. "You're so sweet. Thank you for this." You go on your toes to kiss his cheek, which made his grin widen, showing his dimples, something you cherished deep within your heart and soul.

The drive didn't take long as traffic went smoothly. Flashbacks and the feeling of nostalgia overcame you as the driver pulls into the same hotel you had met Miguel in almost 3 years ago.

After getting checked in Miguel leads you to your room. A smile graces your lips as you reminisce the memories of walking through these halls last time you were here.

Miguel opens the door as you enter a massive suite. As you walk in your eyes widen in amazement as you gaze at the gorgeous spacious living room with floor-to ceiling windows and luscious and soft furniture. When you turn you see a massive kitchen with an intimate-size dinning table.

You set your bag down as you walk towards the main windows you noticed the large patio balcony that has its own intimate pool, lawn chairs, and dining table with an umbrella. The sun was shining beautifully brightening your smile. You couldn't wait to spend the weekend under the sun with Miguel.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against him. A relaxing sigh escaped you as you felt his soft lips against your neck, hitting your sweet spot.

"Should we break in our sanctuary for the weekend?" He whispered against your ear as his hand lowered, lifting your skirt. He pulled you closer as he moved your panties to the side and began rubbing your clit. Your breath hitched as you felt one of his fingers push inside you as his other hand lifted up your top and squeezed your right breast.

"Didn't get enough on the flight here?" You let out a small chuckle before gasping as he entered another finger and pumped faster.

"I can never have enough of you, cariño. Fucking you in that enclosed bathroom twice wasn't enough. I wish you would have just let me sprawl you on the sofa in the jet." Miguel inserted a third finger, filling your aching pussy as he sucked on your neck, leaving marks in his trek.

"T-the flight attendant w-would have seen us."

"She would have gone to the cockpit to give us some privacy.But no matter. We'll make up for it right now." Miguel continued to pump his fingers into you as he grind his boner into your back. A moan left you, chills shooting up your spine as Miguel pinches your right nipple as he sucked on your neck. The various touches made the knot form in your lower abdomen. Your head falls against his chest, giving his mouth more access to your neck, marking you all over.

Miguel lets out a groan as his pants tighten, wanting to free himself and fill up your soft and warm walls.

Not able to take it much longer Miguel removes his fingers, letting out an annoyed moan from you. He turns you around lifts you up and sits you on the dining room table. He goes down on his knees as he removes your panties and skirt putting your legs over his shoulders before diving his tongue deep into your aching cunt.

A shaky moan leaves you as Miguel's tongue enters your wet folds. His lips adventure around your overly sensitive area, as your thighs wrapped tight around his head, making his cock twitch from the pressure as he yearned to be inside you.

Every time your eyes opened and looked down your cheeks turned a shade darker as your eyes met his intense reddish-brown gaze. You gripped the edge of the table as you felt his tongue slowly lick your wet folds before sucking your sensitive clit, instinctively making your hips buck up against him.

You begin to feel your core tighten again, " Cum for me cariño," he said before his lips sucked on your clit.

Your grip on the table relaxed as you released yourself onto his face, your thighs shaking from your release of your orgasm. Miguel stood up from his knees, a smirk on his face as he hooked your knees with his hands as he pulled you closer against him. He leaned down and took your chin as he lifted your head slightly and captured his lips with yours. You moan as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

"You like tasting yourself, amor?" Miguel hummed in amusement before capturing your lips again and entering his tongue in your mouth.

You hummed in agreement against his lips before breathlessly saying, "only from your lips, Miggy."

As you both continued the passionate make out session Miguel moved his hands from your ass. To your disappointment as he began to unbuckle his belt and began to unzip his pants the doorbell rang.

You both sighed in frustration, annoyed in being interrupted. Miguel puts himself back in and walks to the front door as he buckles his belt. Already losing the moment you hop off the table.

You peak around the corner to see that it was the bell hop delivering the bags. Although you could only see Miguel's broad back you tried to hold back a chuckle as you saw the scared face of the bell hop. Miguel must have been terrifying the man just because he cock-blocked him.

After the bell hop left Miguel brought all the luggage to the main area, setting it down in a huff in frustration. His hair was out of its normal place. He combined it back with his fingers, however, it fell right back onto his forehead. He looked at you with a smile opening his arms to you, which you happily walked into his arms as he wrapped you up in a bear hug. You looked up at him as you got on your toes to kiss his chin.

"I guess the moment has passed?" Miguel asked.

"Yeah, I'm sorry Miggy. That Bell hop really did come at the worst time."

"He did." Miguel sighed as he leaned down and placed a loving kiss on your lips. "What would you like to do now? We can go shopping, go to the pool, the beach, stay here."

"I don't care what we do I just want to be with you." You smile as you rest your head against his chest, enjoying the rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Dios mío, mi amor. Mi corazón se hincha por lo lindo que puedes ser. Mi mente y mi corazón se vuelven locos por ti. Te amo con todo mi corazón y mi alma." Miguel smiled wide as he places butterfly kisses all over your face and neck. (Oh my God, my love. My heart swells because of how beautiful you can be. My mind and heart go crazy for you. I love you with all my heart and soul.)

"You are such a sweet talker, Miguel. Are you trying to get into my pants again?" You chuckle as you wrap your arms around his neck to pulls him down and kiss him.

"'Maybe a little bit." He chuckled along with you. "Let me take you shopping cariño. I want to treat you to a nice weekend."

"Aw Miguel that's sweet of you. But you know you don't need to win me over with anything artificial. I love you."

"I love you too. And I know that. But can't a boyfriend just spoil his girlfriend sometimes?" He chuckles as he brushed some strands of your hair behind your ear.

"Well if you say it like that, then ok. But if there is anything that catches your eye, I'm buying it for you."

"Whatever you wish for cariño."

You spend majority of the day exploring the shopping district in South Beach. Both you and Miguel bought plenty of things. The last place was a men's store to look at shirts for Miguel. Throughout the day he had bought everything that peaked your interest even if you didn't say anything, he got it for you. You really wanted to buy him a few things.

He picked out a few nice dress shirts as he went to go try them on on top of handing him a few more that you thought would look good on him. Every time he showed you a new shirt you thought he looked amazing in all of them. Also you just kept on eating up all the gawking stares at Miguel from both men and women. Usually some people would be annoyed by people checking out your boyfriend, as long as they didn't directly try to flirt with him in front of you. But you just loved that he was yours and you were his, which was easily shown when he wrapped an arm around your waist.

After grabbing a bite to eat you both decided it was time to head back to the hotel as the sun already was gone. After dropping off all the bags you both head down to a familiar-looking out door bar by the pool.

Miguel guides you to two seats at the bar counter. A chill went up your spine, the feeling of deja vu running through your mind.

Your smile widens when the bartender brings over the drinks you both had ordered. Before you could take a sip Miguel swiftly moved it from your grasp. You sent him a playful offended look as you lean closer to him, lips only centimeters a part. "This time I'm old enough to drink." You wink at him, before his lips could meet yours, you pulled your head away and placed your lips on the rim of your glass as you take your first sip, eyes never leaving his.

"This time I know that you're mine." Miguel pulls you closer  towards him, smiling wide at you before taking your chin and kissing you. "God I just want to ravage you right now."

You giggle at his words, "Not. Yet. My love." You tap his plush lips with your finger as you pronounce each word. Miguel smiles against your finger as he kisses it before wrapping an arm around your waist and moving your chair as close to his as possible.

"Hey I wanted to tell you some big news."

"Oh?! What is it?!"

"The same day I heard about you getting the internship I officially became the CEO of Alchamex."

"Oh my god Miguel! That's amazing! Congratulations!" Your eyes widen as you wrap your arms around his neck, practically jumping on him, giving him a kiss.

Miguel's smile widened with joy as he happily accepted you into his arms.

"Well now we have something to celebrate for this weekend!"You smile as you sit back in your seat and raise your glass. Miguel chuckles from your remarks as he follows your gesture with his drink.

"Let's drink to us mi amor."

"To us? What for?" You return his wide smile.

"Your internship. My new position. Our future." You felt your heart skip a beat when you heard his last words.

"I'll cheers to that. I love you."

"I love you too, cariño."

After a few more drinks at the bar and another night of passion you wake up the next morning feeling slightly sore.

Raising from the bed you stretch as you smile at the beautiful morning sky. You notice the lack of warmth to the other side of the bed as you can hear the shower running in the bathroom. A chill went up your spine, as the feeling of Deja vu washed over you. You leave the bed as you walk over to the master suite bathroom in your birthday suit.

As you enter your cheeks redden from the sight of water dripping down his wide strong back as it rolls down his waist to his plush ass and down to the marble floor. You bite your lip as you watch his arm muscles flex as he washes his curls. You step into the shower stepping around him and directly under the water. You look up at him with a suggestive smile.

"Good morning mi amor. I didn't think you would be up yet. But I'm glad you are now." Miguel leaned down and cupped your chin as he kissed you. Craving him you wrapped your arms lazily around his neck. His other hand grabbed you by the waist pulling you against him, a groan escaping his lips as your stomach rubbed against his erected cock.

"I missed the warmth of your body in the bed." You gave him a fake pout as you push your body closer to his, making your breasts push against him. Miguel's eyes widen before filling with lust as he gave you one of his iconic smirks.

"Aw I'm sorry baby. I can warm you up now though." Miguel lifted you up against the shower wall, large hands cupping your ass as he thrusts himself into you.

A moan escapes you as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he begin to fuck you at a rough pace. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel the build up from the feeling of his thick ridges invading your pink flesh walls.

Miguel moved one of his hands to your lower abdomen has he could see and feel himself fucking your insides. "Ugh cariño I just want to fill you up with my seed and see your stomach swollen with our children."

"M-Miggy." You barely could say his name, to caught up in your own pleasure.

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." Miguel's lips pressed against your neck as he nipped and sucked at your skin as he continued to ram you against the wall. With his hand pressing against your lower abdomen, making your space for his cock to move inside you tighter. The feeling in your stomach quickly builds up and with one more thrust your eyes roll back as you find your release. After a few more thrusts Miguel released himself inside you, latching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. His thrust slowed down before he pulled out, his seed spilling out of you.

Miguel let you stand again. He turned you around, putting some shampoo in his hand as he massaged it into your scalp. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes enjoying the sensation.

After he helped washing your hair, you poured some body wash in your hands as you began to wash his body. As you used the cloth to wash his broad chest he brush some loose strands behind your ear, whispering "So beautiful." You smiled lovingly up at him as he caressed your cheek. 

After finishing cleaning in the shower you both get dry and ready for the day before heading out hand in hand to grab some breakfast.

The hostess seats you at a nice table outside facing the beach. You and Miguel decided to sit next to each other instead of across wanting to be close to one another.

"Anything in store for today?" You smile before taking a sip of your mimosa.

"I was thinking we relax at the beach today. How does that sound?" Miguel smiles as he pops a grape into his mouth.

"That sounds wonderful."

Miguel's phone buzzed on the table, picking it up a smile appears on his face. Looking over you see it's Gabriel face-timing him. You scoot your chair closer to Miguel before he pressed the answer button.

"Mama! Papa!" Said the young voice you missed.

"Buenas días, princesa. ¿Cómo dormiste?" ( Good morning princess, how did you sleep?)

"Good! I miss you and mama. When are you coming home?" Your heart ached when you saw her sad pout.

"We miss you so much baby bug. Papa and I will be back in two more sleeps."

"Ok Mama. Papa did you-" "well look at the time, it's time for you to get ready for soccer practice." Gabriel interrupted his little niece for talking further.

You frowned slightly wanting to talk to Gabi more as you did miss her, but after a quick goodbye Gabriel hung up the call.

"I wish we could have talked longer. I miss her."

Miguel took your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist.

"I miss her too, but we'll see her soon."

"You're right." You smile as you cup his cheek lovingly.

After enjoying breakfast together you walk to the beach and find two seats with an umbrella. You lay your beach bag and towels on the chairs before removing your sun dress over your head. As soon as your were just in your colorful bikini you heard a snap. Before you could even react Miguel blocked your chest from nearby onlookers.

"Aw my shoulder strap broke." You pout, as you cover your chest. "I have another one in my bag, I'll go change in one of the bathrooms."

"Do u need help?" Miguel asked with a look of slight concern.

"Don't worry I'll be ok. Thank you for protecting me, my knight and shining armor." You go on your toes and kiss his lips before grabbing your spair bikini and heading over towards the bathroom.

After switching bikinis you look yourself over in the mirror smiling before heading back out to the beach. Your happy smile switched to a frown when you noticed the waitress getting too close to your boyfriend. Of course before you can get there she leaves. When you got to your chair you noticed Miguel's annoyed face before his eyes met yours and seconds later his loving smile returned.

"Make a friend there?" You chuckle as you sit on the chair next to him.

"Just the typical waitress trying to gain my favor, they are just too blind to see that my heart and body belong to you only. Oh I ordered you a mango margarita." Miguel took your hand and kissed your knuckles. You notice the waitress was about to come back over with your drinks, so the mischievous person you can be, you straddle his lap as you trace your hands up his chiseled chest to his shoulders to massage them.

"¿Qué estás haciendo mi sexy minx?" Miguel chuckled with a smirk on his face as he placed his hands on your hips. (What are you doing my sexy minx?)

"Just helping you relax plus another reason."

"Care to let me in on it?"

"Oh I think you already have figure it out Doctor O'Hara."

Miguel gave your hips a tiny love squeeze to your cheeky remark.

The waitress came back now acting nervous when she noticed you on Miguel's lap acting all lovey dovey.You smiled as you could tell Miguel was trying told back a chuckle as he knew your only got like this when you got jealous. He thought it was cute. "H-here are your d-drinks."

"You can place them on the table. Thank you." The waitress gives you a fake awkward happy smile before walking away. You hand Miguel his beer before grabbing your drink and taking a sip from your straw.

"This is bringing back fond memories." Miguel brushed some of your hair behind your shoulder before bringing you closer against him. Luckily you were at a Adults-only hotel, so you didn't have to worry about children being around.

"What makes you say that?"

"You sitting in my lap under the sun by the sea. Who would have thought I would call you mine almost three years later." Miguel took your chin gently and placed a loving kiss to both sides of your cheeks before placing one on your lips.

"Oh Miggy you can be such a romantic. I love you." You chuckle with a loving smile before placing another kiss on his lips.

"Anything to please you hermosa."

"You remember that nice memory of us in the private pool?" You give him a suggestive smile wrapping your arms around his neck now and bringing your chest against his. Miguel grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, feeling a half erect  hard on under neath his swim suit shorts rubbing  against your clit you bite your lower lip to hide your moan.

"I do."

"Maybe we should sneak into the pool tonight and recreate it?"

"Actually I booked us a private cabana and pool for all day tomorrow. So we can recreate that moment, on and on and on." Miguel moved his hips against you on rhythm with his last words. Before the beginning of a knot could form in your lower abdomen you remember you were in public and immediately remove yourself from his lap and back to to your chair blushing madly.

"Aw cariño why did you leave? I thought we were having fun." Miguel sent you a fake pout.

"A little too much fun in public. Save it for closed doors." You wink at him. Miguel winked back with a chuckle kissing your forehead as he wrapped and arm on the back of your chair as your were right next to him.

You spent the day laying in the sun enjoying each others presence in comfortable silence with a break or two playing in the water to cool off.

Once the sun begins to set you go back to the hotel and shower together, taking longer than usual to both satisfy your sexual hunger building up throughout the day.

You smile at yourself in the long mirror lining the long dress with heels that you chose. Miguel had said that dinner was at a Michelin star Mexican-Japanese restaurant tonight, which you were excited to try.

"You look gorgeous mi amor." Miguel wrapped his arms around you in a hug as he kisses your neck. You turn around to face your handsome boyfriend.

"You look handsome." You giggle slightly from his light kisses tickling your neck.

"Not too old for you?" He lightly chuckled but you could tell he actually wanted to know, feeling slightly insecure.

"Miguel. You're the one for me. You're my perfect man."

"Flaws and all?"

"Flaws and all. But I see your flaws as unique characteristics. And I love every single one." You lift his head to look into his brown eyes.

"You are more than perfect y/n." Miguel smiled as he kissed your lips. Once you both broke away you chuckled lightly to see that your red lipstick left a mark on his lips. You grab a tissue and gently wipe the red from his lips.

"God, if I didn't want to go to this restaurant I would mount you right now on this bed." You take a deep breath trying your best to control yourself. What this man could make your mind and body feel.

"We'll have plenty of time afterwords, unless, do you want to have a quickie right now? We have 20 minutes. Only takes 8 to walk there." Miguel smirked as he turned you back around and bent you over before you could answer. He got your answer when you rubbed your ass against his crotch making him groan from the contact. He unzipped his pants and taking himself out before lifting your dress and pushing your white lace underwear to the side before pushing himself in. A moan left your lips as he fully entered himself inside your wet pink folds. From this angle you were tighter so you felt the feeling of his ridges and veins moving against your inner walls.

Grabbing your hips he removes himself fully except the tip before plunging back into you.

"Fuck hermosa. You feel so good. It's going to be hard just to fill you once."

Miguel pace quickens at record speed building your knot instantly. Another moan escaped your lips overwhelmed by the quick and pleasurable orgasm. However, after coming down from your euphoric high you noticed his pace doesn't falter.

"M-miggy."

"Just one more. Let me make you cum one more time." And true to his word you felt another knot build just as fast as the first before feeling that familiar and intoxicating high you can't seem to get enough of. After your second orgasm Miguel stopped his thrusts inside you, as he made your inner walls white. He thrusted a few more times inside you wanting as much seed to stay inside you as his constantly had the need to breed you.

He walked over to the bathroom to get a warm wet towel to clean you off before cleaning himself off.

You look in the mirror to make yourself look presentable before linking arms with your boyfriend. "Look at that, we still have time to spare. Could have fucked you for another few minutes.Guess we'll head over early."

"Guess we'll have to add those minutes for later tonight's session." Miguel smirked from your response before placing a kiss on the top of your head before you both left the room towards the restaurant.

You make it to the restaurant and are seated right away at a beautiful table outside with a bottle of Prosecco in an ice bucket ready to be sipped.

The dinner and atmosphere was perfect. The food and drink was amazing, the staff were really nice. How more perfect could this night get?

"Wow, I can see why this restaurant has a Michelin star, every bite was amazing. What an amazing day. Thank you." You smile

"I'm glad you liked it cariño. But dinner is not quite over yet. We still have dessert." Miguel chuckled slightly when you gave him a curious look.

You were curious to his words because Miguel didn't have a big sweet tooth. You're surprised by the waiter coming over with a small white cake with white flowers dusted gold.

On the top it read in cursive "Will you..."the waiter took a lighter and lit the thin layer on fire revealing another set of words, "Marry me?"

When your eyes lifted to Miguel's you saw him already beside you kneeling down on one knee with a velvet small box open.

"Y/n. Mi Vida. Mi amor. When I look into your eyes, I can see a reflection of the two of us and the life I hope we'll share. I know we have had our challenges in this relationship. But my love for you is so much stronger than any challenge that has come or will come in our way. When I met you almost three years ago at this very hotel I'd never felt my heart so full. I never felt so happy before. And I'm so happy that you came back into my life. I promise you, no one will work harder to make you happy or cherish you more than me. Will you make me the happiest man on Eartg and marry me?"  Miguel opened up the black velvet box to reveal a beautiful oval shaped, 3 carat diamond stone with a white gold band that decorated with smaller diamonds on both sides.

Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute as you felt butterflies fly rapidly in your stomach. You started to nod your head yes having a hard time speaking as you gave him a wide happy smile before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him up with some new found strength as you kiss him. You pepper his lips with kisses while you say in between, "yes. Yes. I will marry you."

Miguel smile was bright and happy, the smile that made your heart swell with love. He cupped your cheek, "You just made me the happiest man on Earth."

The surrounding tables called and cheered for your joyous occasion. Miguel took the beautiful ring from its box as he slipped it on your ring finger.

"It fits perfectly. It's beautiful Miguel." You look at the ring smiling before placing another kiss to his lips.

After paying the bill you both leave the restaurant as you decide to take a walk on the beach.

Miguel leads you to a private section of the beach where a gorgeous open tent with candles lighting a path in the sand with petals trailing up the middle. You gasped in wonder when you see the inside of tent. A king sized floor mattress and comforters with blankets and pillows. On one side there was champagne and a small fruit platter with a sign that said, 'Congratulations.'

"Oh Miguel this is gorgeous." You look up at him with love and excitement which returns in his gaze.

"Now let's celebrate." Miguel lifted you up bridal style before gently throwing you on to the soft comforter.

The ending of the night was perfect as you showed each other how much you loved each other as you made love on the beach under the starry night sky.

You wake up to the bright sun shinning over the bright blue water. Brain becoming more awake you realize you were still in the tent on the beach.

You felt Miguel shift as you felt the grip he had around your waist tighten as he pulled you back against his chest as he whispered in your ear with his rough morning voice, " Good morning hermosa."

"Good morning." You turn your head slightly to meet his lips with yours to give him a morning kiss. You then remember the band around your finger as you turned to look at it.

"Oh my god, we're engaged."You cover your mouth eyes widening smiling as the realization finally hits you.

"We are." Miguel chuckled to your words as he placed a few kisses on your shoulder and neck.

"How did you set this all up?"

"It's a special offer they have for the newly engaged. It's a private part of the beach that no one else can go to .

"Very romantic. Thank you for a wonderful weekend away."

"Of course mi amor. Anything for you."

The rest of the morning was spent with more love making and breakfast that was delivered.

You both decided it was time to head back to the room, walking back in the clothes from the night before.

The day went by in a flash from the private pool and cabana to another romantic dinner to now where you are on the terrace balcony of your room laying on the outdoor sofa and cuddling in each others arms.

You gaze up at the stars as you both try to find constellations.

"Look there's the Little Dipper!" You point up to the sky with your left hand. Miguel gently grabs your hand that was raised to the sky and brings it to his lips placing a kiss to your wrist.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." He smiled as his reddish-brown gaze met yours. Your cheeks flushed slightly as you smiled up at him.

"Me too. I love you Miguel O'Hara."

"I love too, soon-to-be Y/n O'Hara."

————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!💕

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#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel x reader #oneshot #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x y/n #oneshot requests #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel imagine #miguel #miguel fanfic #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miggy

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Bitter Sweet Series

Part One: Long Time No See

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: language, underage drinking, references to alcohol

A/N: Welcome to Part One of the Bitter Sweet Series! A couple of things to note: for the purposes of this fic, Travis is only one year older than Joe and they go to rival fictional high schools (Joe attends Mountain Oak High and Travis goes to South Fork High School). Joe grew up in the fictional town of West Elm, a suburb of Cincinnati (this is only really relevant for this chapter and subsequent flashbacks). In present day, which takes place in 2020, Joe has just been drafted to the Cincinnati Bengals and Travis is already playing for the KC Chiefs. COVID doesn't exist in this AU.

Night Before Graduation : May 23rd 2014

" Joseph Lee Burrow, how many time do I have to..." Joe frantically closed his laptop just as his mom walked into his room, swinging around in his desk chair to face her, hoping to conceal his screen. "It's time for dinner. What're you doing?" She narrowed her eyes as she searched his room, spotting his graduation cap and gown draped over the door of his closet.

"Uh...", he paused. There was no way he was going to tell her he was in the middle of writing a love letter to his best friend, a failsafe in case he couldn't muster up the courage to declare his feelings to her tonight like he originally planned. "I'm uh, looking at porn?" The inflection in his voice was unintentional, but he was bad at coming up with lies on the fly, he always was. His face contorted with embarrassment as he raked his fingers through his blonde hair.

Joe's mom bit at her bottom lip to stifle a laugh, moving into the room to sit at the foot of his bed. She straightened out his comforter before taking a seat, watching as Joe squirmed in his chair from the corner of her eye, probably desperate to get back to his computer.

"What kind of porn are you watching?" She asked the question so casually with a shrug, Joe couldn't tell if it was a setup or not. "I'm sorry?", he croaked out, his throat dryer than the desert. "We've never talked about it before. What are you into, blondes, brunettes?"

"I'm not talking with you about this, mom!" He had managed to avoid having the birds and bees conversation with his parents out of pure luck, and thought he was in the clear about having to talk about anything regarding sex with either of them. Joe was starting to sweat through his t-shirt, he could feel the beads running down the back of his neck. "What? You think that just because I'm your mother, I don't know about porn? How do you think you got here?" If there was ever a moment Joe wished that he could evaporate from where he sat, it was now.

"Please! I'm begging you to stop." Joe's usually pale face was a beet red. "If you love me at all, we will not have this conversation."

"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, don't", his mother teased, knowing that was far from what she had caught Joe doing. Confident she had made him as uncomfortable as possible, a mother's god given right, she stood and pulled Joe's gown from door. She rubbed the green polyester fabric between her fingers.

"You know, your first day of pre-school, your father and I were so worried about you, because you were such a shy kid. We just wanted to make sure that you made friends. I was a mess as we walked you into the classroom, just absolutely sobbing." She smiled gently as the memory returned to the forefront of her mind. "You clung to me with your little Scooby Doo backpack, and before you could even sit down, this little girl with jet black hair, and these purple overalls came running over to you and asked you to play."

A grin slipped on Joe's face. He didn't have many early memories, but he would never forget the day he met her. "She had a pink bandaid on her cheek because she had fallen face first off the monkey bars." Joe pressed his fingers on his own face to match where the band-aid would have been, letting out a quiet laugh. "She was fearless."

"She was", she chuckled, grabbing a hanger out of the closet, and draping the gown over the sides and hanging it up on the rack. "The two of you ran over to play, and you forgot all about me." The nostalgia was overwhelming, and Joe wasn't sure if he was happy or sad looking back on his past. A lot had changed, and tonight was sure to solidify the fact that there was no going back.

"Are you planning to tell her tonight?" Joe's head shot up at his mother's question. "I don't know what you're talking about", he said in the most unconvincing tone, letting out an exasperated sigh. God, he really needed to get better at lying. "Tonight would be the perfect time", she sat back down on the bed, taking Joe's plush football in her arms. "I think her family is packing up to move the day after graduation."

"So the porn line wasn't convincing, huh?" Joe leaned back in his chair, his frustration and nervousness starting to cloud his mind. Each passing minute he was closer to backing out. "You my son, are a terrible liar, and from the moment you first met Natalie, I have known two things. One, the two of you would be best friends for the rest of your lives, and two, you are madly in love with her. Always have been."

She was right. It might be juvenile and fleeting, but he was in love with Natalie Holcomb, had been for as long as he could remember. "How do you tell someone that you've known your entire life that you want to be more than friends?" The farthest he had gotten with his letter was the first sentence: "I know we've known each other for a long time...". It was hardly a Shakespearean sonnet.

"Just tell her how you feel. Make sure it comes from the heart. A girl always wants to hear they're loved." The advice was good, but it was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. His heart didn't know what it wanted, it was an unreliable source. "That was no help at all, mom." He spun around in his chair, hoping the dizziness could replace all of the uncertainty.

"Well, all I know, is that if a boy told me he loved me, I would be very flattered." Joe stopped himself, his vision still bouncing around as he tried to focus on his mom as she stood in the doorway again. "Yeah, well, I don't know", he pushed out with a sharp breath, hanging his head in his hands.

"I wish you all the luck my sweet boy", she remarked as she pushed her self off the threshold with her hip. "Remember your curfew."

****

A few hours later, Joe had a stomach full of spaghetti in his stomach, and the nerves were threatening to make him spill it all over the pavement as he biked over to Natalie's house. Her family had moved into town over 15 years ago, just a couple of houses down from the Burrows.

Her father was a retired sergeant in the Marines, who had moved to private contracting, dragging his family with him across the country every time he changed jobs. He was strict and conservative, rarely letting Natalie have friends over for a sleepover, and would probably have an aneurysm if she tried to sneak a boy in, so they always had to get creative if they wanted to hang out after school.

Joe hid his bike behind a large hedge and scooped a couple of rocks from the landscaping as he strode up the walkway of her house. He climbed the large oak tree, like he'd done hundreds of times over the years, huffing as he pulled himself to be level with the roof on the second story.

"Fuck!" The expletive slipped out of his mouth as his sneaker slipped against the trunk of the tree. He quickly climbed onto a concealed branch, holding his breath as he waited for Mr. Holcomb to come out with his bat at the loud noise. After a minute he realized he was in the clear.

Light poured out of Natalie's bedroom window, and Joe could hear the bass from her stereo through the glass, watching her as she danced around her room to the music. She had this beautiful smile as she sung the lyrics; it leaned slightly to the left when she giggled, but he thought it was perfect. Everything about her was perfect in Joe's eyes. The way her brows would stick together when she was deep in thought, or how her dimples would show when she was telling him a joke.

Joe chuckled to himself as he watched her step around the room. Sure, her dancing was terrible, but he could easily overlook that. She had exchanged her pink overalls for a pair of vintage jeans and a band t-shirt, but in Joe's eyes, very few other things had changed. She was still the charismatic, brave and funny girl that he met that first day of pre-school, and who he had never been able to get out of his mind.

The doubt quickly returned, and he tried his best to shake it off. If he confessed how he felt to her, and it didn't work out, he would risk losing her forever, and he wasn't sure that was something he wanted. But, if it did work out, he'd be getting the only thing he'd ever wanted for his entire life. It was a gamble, one that he was willing to take.

"Its now or never", he whispered, kissing one of the rocks in his hands for good luck. He tossed it at her window, flinching as he heard a loud clink against the glass.

He waited a few seconds before tossing another, and a third before Natalie finally appeared, lifting the pane open and poking her head out. "Burrow, I was beginning to think you weren't coming." There was that smile again. Joe felt his knees grow weak, grasping at a branch to steady himself. "I got stuck having a conversation about porn with my mom."

Natalie smirked, tilting her head to the side in amusement. "Well, you'll have to tell me all about that. I'll be right down." She slammed the window shut, and Joe listened as the music turned off and her room went dark. He jumped down and walked to the backyard, easily climbing over their weathered fence.

When they first moved in, Natalie's dad built her and her siblings a tree house, and over time it had become the place where they would hang out at night and drink cheap liquor they had stollen from their parents.

"Here." Natalie handed Joe a half-empty plastic bottle as he reached the entrance of the treehouse, where she was sitting on a blanket she had laid out. Joe took a swig, immediately regretting it when his throat began to burn. "What is this?" He grimaced, letting out a forced cough. "I dunno. The label was ripped off. Let me see." Joe settled on the blanket, handing the bottle back. She almost downed the entire thing before stopping for a breath. "Tastes like bourbon." Joe signaled he wasn't interested when she tried to hand it back. He was too nervous, and drinking only made him more anxious.

"Didn't think we'd actually get here." Joe followed Natalie's gaze out the open window, where they had a perfect view of the expansive neighborhood. "What? Graduation? Did you think we weren't going to graduate?" Joe chucked one of the rocks he was hanging onto out of the window. Natalie scoffed. "Well, with that arm of yours and your scholarship to Ohio State, I knew you were going to graduate. Me, I wasn't so sure about."

Joe nodded, his eyes focused on his feet. He had helped Natalie study for a lot of her classes, and most times she was barely passing. It wasn't that she wasn't smart; far from it. She was just always distracted. If it wasn't a hobby, it was a boyfriend, and it was like you couldn't get her to stop running around.

"Just like a shark", she'd always say, "If you stop swimming, you die."

The oldest of three siblings, everyone could see it was an act of rebellion against her strict parents and the way she was raised, but Joe admired the fact that she couldn't be tied down. She was the excitement in their friendship and he was the grounded one. They needed each other, Joe a lot more than Natalie.

"You're in your head again." Joe snapped out of his haze at Natalie's voice. "Sorry", he shook his head, "just got a lot on my mind." The letter was burning a hole in his pocket. He watched as she took another gulp of the unidentified liquid, finishing the bottle. "Care to share with the class?" She choked out the question, her eyes closed. He plucked the paper from his pocket, folding it up tightly so it fit in his palm. "Actually Nat.."

Joe was stopped when Natalie's phone buzzed, the backlight illuminating their faces in the dark treehouse. "Oh, he really needs to fuck off", she cursed under her breath, frantically typing on her phone. "Something wrong?" Joe was glad to have a reprieve, slipping the note back into his pocket. Her phone pinged again with another notification, Natalie responding instantly, before she put it down.

"Its Travis. We're in a fight."

Joe groaned at the name. Travis Kelce, his long time rival on the football field, and the one person he hated more than anyone. He just happened to be Natalie's on again, off again boyfriend all through high school, but that was unrelated, of course.

"A fight?". Joe hoped he didn't sound too eager, his voice breaking as he spoke. "I didn't know you two were back together. I thought you broke up after prom last year." Travis went to the high school across town, rivals to Joe and Natalie's high school, and was known to be trouble. When he showed up drunk to the junior/senior prom their junior year, they had a very public breakup in the parking lot in of the school gym.

"We did", she drug out her words, "but he's really changed after going to college. He's so much more mature now. He apologized to me after my birthday party last month and we got back together." Joe gave her a weak smile, moving to grab one of the other bottles available. He quickly twisted the cap and flicked it across the room, taking a long drink, the alcohol moving so fast down his esophagus, it bypassed his tastebuds completely.

"I'm planning to go to UC, so we can be together." Down the hatch the liquid went again, Joe finishing off the bottle. He shook the empty plastic at her. "Do we have any more?"

On the football field, Joe was just as good of a player as Travis was, but he didn't fit the jock persona, and he was pretty sure Travis' picture was next to the word jock in the dictionary. They shared many accolades and were hometown heroes in their own right, both set to go into the NFL after college, but while Joe was focused on being the best player he could be, Travis was focused on making Joe's life a living hell. Whenever they played, Travis was a downright bully on the field, calling Joe names and taunting him after every play. Natalie might have been blind to Joe's feelings for her, but Travis wasn't, and he made sure Joe knew that Travis had what he wanted.

Hurt, and feeling like Natalie was slipping away, Joe never made it a secret how much he disliked Travis, but she didn't want to hear what anyone had to say about her boyfriend. It really strained their relationship, and Joe wasn't sure they were going to be friends anymore on the other side. He finally got a break when they broke up and Travis graduated, playing football for the University of Cincinnati, and he felt like he finally had his friend back.

"You should really slow down", Natalie laughed. "Why should I?" Joe jumped to his feet, wavering as he started to feel the effects of the alcohol. "This is reason to celebrate! We're graduating, and you're back with your fuck boy of a boyfriend." Joe was shouting, he was sure of it. He stumbled over his feet, knocking into the wall.

"You're ridiculous, Joe. Why have you never liked Travis?" Joe let out a curt laugh, no humor behind it. "Oh, I don't know, Nat. Maybe because he treats you like shit, or because he makes my life a living hell every time I see him?" Joe slurred his words, feeling the room start to spin. He clapped a hand to his head, slowly sliding down the wall.

"He's just messing around with you. He would never hurt you, he knows how much you mean to me." Joe tried to look at Natalie, but her figure wouldn't stay still. "He's not a good guy Natalie, and you're dumb if you can't see that." His vision stilled just in time to see the hurt on his best friend's face.

"I think you should go, Joe." He wasn't sure how he got to this point, but this was far from a declaration of love. He was losing the only person he truly cared about, not because of vulnerability, but due to his own stupidity and underlying jealousy. Joe closed his eyes tight for a second, hoping he'd wake up from this nightmare.

"Joe. Please leave." Natalie stood, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah, yeah. I'm going." He groaned out, waving a hand in the air to brush her off, his eyes still shut. He listened as Natalie climbed down the rickety ladder, each rung squeaking as she stepped, finally hearing the back door slam closed.

"You really fucked this up, Burrow, Joe said to himself, his head starting to pound. He took his time standing, grabbing onto any flat surface that he could. He approached the entrance, and peeked his head over the edge, the ground appearing miles away, swaying in a way that made him think he was going to be sick. "Here goes nothing." With the first step, Joe completely missed the ladder, failing to grab onto anything, hurdling toward the ground, his back landing in the grass with a thud.

"Ow." He moaned and groaned out as he laid still for a minute, moving his limbs to make sure nothing had broken. Realizing the only thing damaged was his pride, he slowly got to his feet.

Thankfully, he made it back over the fence without any trouble and headed back toward his bike. He stopped as he passed the trash cans lined up against the house. He had missed his chance to tell Natalie how he felt, and there was no way she was ever going to feel the same as he did. He took the note out of his pocket and tossed it in the trash.

Happy graduation.

****

Present Day

Joe finished off his beer, placing the bottle down on the wooden table. "Alright, I'm getting you another one." Sam was quick to snatch it away before Joe could object, standing up from his chair. "No, seriously, I've had enough", Joe chuckled, waving his hands in front of him in defeat.

Joe had been riding high all summer after being drafted first overall to the Cincinnati Bengals. All of his hard work at Ohio State and LSU had paid off, and he was finally getting to live his dream of playing football professionally. He had been home for the last couple weeks visiting his family until it was time to report to training camp. His childhood friends had dragged him out to a bar to celebrate, and he was officially three beers deep, and more than tipsy.

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you celebrate getting drafted into the fuckin' NFL, man?!" Sam gestured toward the other patrons in the bar. "First fuckin' pick, in case anyone was wondering!" The group pounded the table in celebration, cheers and yells drowning any attempt for Joe to decline any more drinks, as hard as he tried.

"I'm serious." Joe raised his voice as everyone was starting to settle down. "I appreciate it, but I have practice tomorrow. I can't show up drunk."

"Damn, you're a kill-joy." Sam took a jab at Joe, patting him on the shoulder and shaking him, before making his way through the crowd towards the bar.

"So Joe, you finally gonna make Bengals fans proud?", Chris, one of Joe's friends from middle school, raised his drink toward his buddy, earning a few jeers from the group, most of which were not Bengals fans. "That's the plan." Joe smiled, nerves for tomorrow starting to set in. "I just wanna be the best quarter back that I can be." He glanced at his phone. It was after 10pm, and he really just wanted to crawl into his bed and go to sleep. Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough. If he played it right, he could slip out without anyone noticing.

"Where you going, J?" Just as Joe stood up, Sam returned, double fisting a couple of beers. "I've gotta go, man. Thank you for the drinks." He threw an arm over Sam's shoulder in a hug. "Remember me when you're handing out season tickets this year!' Sam called out to Joe as he walked away.

The bar was just starting to get crowded, everyone literally rubbing elbows as Joe tried to push through to the exit. "Oh shit!" He stopped in his tracks as he saw a phone tumble to the ground. He reached down to get it, his breath hitching when he realized who it belonged to.

"Oh, thank you." She moved her jet black hair out of her eyes as she looked up, that same crooked smile appearing on her face. "Oh my fucking god, Joe?!" Natalie wrapped Joe in a tight hug, forcing him to lean back as she tackled him.

"Nat?" Joe couldn't really believe who was in front of him right now. Not that he had forgotten what she looked like, but the last couple of years had definitely changed her for the better. She looked just as beautiful, if not more, than the last time he saw her. "Its been, what four-?"

"It's been five years", she nodded in agreement, her hands still on Joe's biceps. "I can't believe I ran into you."

"I can't either." Joe really meant it. Natalie's family moved to Iowa after graduation, and besides the ceremony and graduation party that night, that was the last time he ever saw him. He never got a chance to tell her how he felt, and their friendship fizzled out.

"Oh!" She slapped him playfully on the chest, making Joe jump. "Congratulations on getting drafted! I always knew you'd make it into the NFL." Joe smiled, stepping back. "Thank you." She squeezed his arms affectionately before dropping her hands. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but I'm actually looking for my fiancé. I don't know how I lose him, he pretty much towers over everyone like you do." Natalie jumped on her feet to try to see over the crowd, her mouth twisted with frustration.

"Fiancé? When did that happen?." Natalie flashed her huge engagement ring at Joe, who hoped she couldn't see the disappointment on his face. "It just happened, actually. We wanted to do it before the season started and things got crazy." She peered over Joe's shoulder, still searching. "Season? What is your fiancé a high school coach or something?"

"Josephine fuckin' Burrow, what the fuck is going on man?"

Joe would recognize that voice anywhere. He had heard it enough on the football field as he tossed expletives at him, that it had been engrained in his brain. Joe slowly turned to see Natalie's fiancé standing behind him. The few years between high school and now had brought them eye to eye in height, and now Joe was basically the same in stature as well.

"Joe, you remember Travis?"

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#joe burrow #joeburrow #joe burrow fanfiction #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x oc #travis kelce #traviskelce #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce imagine #nfl imagine #nfl fanfic #nfl fanfiction

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Sweeter Than This

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of war and rationing, sexual inexperience, oral sex (f receiving), smut. Word count: ~3.1k

Summary: When Billy gifts her an orange, almost impossible to come by due to lack of exportation and rationing, he decides he wants to taste something sweeter than fruit. Based on this request.

Author's note: For @notasockpuppetaccount. No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She sits down heavily on a chair in the staff quarters, sighing in relief at the rest she is finally able to give her aching feet and back.

It’s her first day at The Halcyon, one of London’s most prestigious hotels. Money has been tight at home since her father was drafted, and she’d enquired about work just about everywhere she could think of, in order to help her mother make ends meet.

She’d been surprised when The Halcyon had offered her a job as a maid, she had no prior experience and was certain they’d reject her. However, she supposes that in the midst of a war, beggars can’t be choosers, and they are likely as desperate as she is.

Her morning has been spent helping out Kate, a firm but friendly Irish girl, who has taught her how to turn down a bed and scrub a toilet until it gleams white and shiny again. It’s tiring work, the maze of rooms on every floor feels endless, and between being scolded for wrinkled sheets and improperly folded towels she is exhausted, grateful to retreat to the back room once she’s told she can take her lunch break.

Unwrapping the wax paper on the sandwich she’d packed earlier that morning, she wrinkles her nose in disgust. It no longer seems as appetising now that it’s been left to sit in her bag for hours.

She looks up as the door creaks open, a tall, young lad in a bell boy’s uniform walks in. He offers her a tight lipped smile by way of greeting, cheeks turning slightly pink as he moves to retrieve his own sandwich.

“You on your lunch as well?” She asks warmly. Having only spoken properly to Kate so far, she is eager to make friends.

“Yeah,” he says, gesturing towards the empty seat opposite hers at the table, “you mind if I, er…?”

“No, sit down,” she tells him, watching intently as he takes a seat and starts to unwrap his own food.

“Not seen you before,” he comments, looking up at her.

“First day,” she fiddles with the wax paper of her lunch, “I’m knackered.”

“Don’t I know it,” he says, loosening his cap and placing it upon the table. “Lost a guest’s dog this morning. Bloody thing slipped the lead when I tried to walk it.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, but she is unable to stifle the giggle that escapes her. At least someone is having a worse day than she is. “And I thought I had it bad scrubbing toilets.”

“You not eating that then?” He says, nodding towards her sandwich before taking a bite of his own.

She grimaces. “Fish paste. Not sure I can stomach it.”

He nods, talking around a mouthful of food, a habit she would ordinarily find disgusting, but she finds it doesn’t offend her when he does it. “Spam in mine. Mum makes ‘em. Same thing every day.” He swallows before he speaks again, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Tell you what, give me half of yours, I’ll give you half of mine. Less boring that way.”

“Yeah, alright,” she grins, sliding hers across to him. She watches as he takes half and then places the remaining part of his in the empty space.

“I’m Billy, by the way,” he tells her, the tips of his ears reddening, suddenly shy again.

“Thanks for the sandwich, Billy,” she says softly, before telling him her name.

They eat their lunch in comfortable silence, until finally it’s time to get back to work.

In the week that follows, her and Billy have lunch together every day, swapping sandwich halves and chatting about their days. The work is hard, but knowing she has a friend gives her something to look forward to, and she finds herself excited to go to work each day.

They talk about anything and everything, their hour-long break always feeling like it evaporates all too quickly. She tells him all about her dad fighting overseas against the Germans, and how she took her job at the Halcyon to bring home extra money for her mum, who’s currently doing factory work for the same reason. Billy tells her that he’ll be eighteen soon, and can’t wait to be drafted. His mum, Peggy, operates the switchboard at the hotel, his dad isn’t around anymore, so she relies on his help to look after his little sister, who he affectionately refers to as “the squirt”.

Shared lunch breaks evolve into after hours games of poker with the rest of the Halcyon staff. They crowd into the back room, sitting around the same table that her and Billy share lunch at, and play for cigarettes. 

She feels her skin grow hot as their knees brush together, unable to help the smile that tugs at her lips as she watches Billy’s brow furrow in confusion as he looks over his cards, a lit cigarette perched between his lips.

“You’re smoking your stake, Billy,” she says with a soft chuckle.

He looks sheepishly at her, plucking the cigarette from between his lips, before throwing his cards down onto the table with a sigh. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I’ve got all Jacks.”

“Billy!” Everyone groans around the table in frustration, chucking their own cards down.

She laughs heartily. He might have ruined the game, but it’s impossible to be angry at him when his big blue eyes go wide and his lips part in shock. 

Billy looks adorable when he’s worried, and it’s an expression he wears often; when he accidentally drops guests’ luggage down the stairs, the time he shuts a lady’s skirt in the lift doors, and especially when she leads him to the scullery, telling him there’s a surprise for him.

His concern quickly morphs into one of his trademark, tight smiles that indicate he’s feeling bashful, as head chef, George, flanked by the rest of the kitchen staff, carries out an enormous birthday cake lit with candles.

“You didn’t think you could hide it from us, did you, Billy?” George jokes, once the obligatory “happy birthday” song has been sung. “Eighteen today!”

She has her first taste of Champagne that day, each member of staff is given a class to toast to Billy. The bubbles tickle her nose, the taste is dry but not unpleasant upon her palate, yet it does nothing to dilute the bitterness that blooms heavy in her chest. 

Billy’s turned eighteen, he’ll be drafted any day now and she’ll lose her best friend. No more shared sandwiches, no more ruined games of poker, no more stolen moments in the housekeeping closet where they laugh uncontrollably over stupid jokes. She’s going to lose Billy, just as she’s lost her dad to this stupid war.

Her heartache is given a brief moment of respite when she looks over at him, also indulging in his first taste of Champagne, and sees the way his face contorts in disgust at the taste. He’s always able to make her smile, even when she doesn’t want to.

It’s only a week later that Billy’s letter arrives. Due to Peggy’s meddling, he won’t be going overseas, he’ll be stationed at the nearby army barracks helping to man the anti aircraft guns. She is secretly pleased that he won’t be too far away, despite his annoyance at his mum’s interference. She feels she could kiss Peggy, such is the depth of her gratitude for what she’s done, but she does her best to hide how pleased she is, comforting Billy, saying how sorry she is for him.

“Cheer up, it might never happen,” he says with a soft smile, as they stand in the hotel foyer. Billy wears his day clothes, having handed his uniform in at the end of his final shift at The Halcyon.

“Already has,” she replies sadly, her heart twinging as she looks up into the big, blue eyes she’s grown to adore.

“How d’you mean?” He asks, frowning slightly.

“You, going off to war,” she sighs, “I won’t see you again.”

“Don’t be daft,” he chuckles, “I’ll only be down the road.”

“You won’t have time for me, Billy.”

He swallows, averting his gaze briefly before meeting her eye once more. “I don’t like fish paste.”

“What?” She asks, squinting slightly, confused.

“I’ve spent the last six months eating fish paste sarnies, just so I’d have an excuse to spend my lunch break with you. Fish paste is disgusting, if I can stomach that then it’ll take more than a stupid war to keep me away from you.”

Her heart flutters, her vision turning misty as a wide smile spreads its way across her features. “Oh, Billy…” she whispers.

Her fingers flex uselessly at her sides, desperate to reach out to him, and she sees his do the same. An opposing, invisible force hangs heavy between them, filled with unspoken declarations, drawing them together and yet pushing them apart simultaneously, until finally they collide in a tight, all encompassing hug.

He smells of Brylcreem and tobacco, and she inhales deeply, committing his scent to memory. She doesn’t want to let go, yet she does, she has to.

Adjusting to life at The Halcyon without Billy around is difficult. Lunch breaks feel empty and lifeless, the poker nights are not the same.

Billy still visits, though his presence is not as frequent as it was before. He’s usually accompanied by his little sister, carrying her into the hotel on piggyback before going to see Peggy in the switchboard room.

To her delight, he makes a point of seeking her out each time. He looks handsome in his uniform, filled with a confidence he didn’t have before. Animatedly, he tells her all about the anti aircraft guns, enthusiastically mimicking the sounds they make, causing her to laugh.

On her eighteenth birthday, Billy turns up at the hotel, looking dapper as ever in his khaki green trousers and jacket. He pulls her into the housekeeping cupboard, shifting the bag he has on his shoulder awkwardly.

“Happy birthday,” he says to her, almost nervous sounding, “got you something.”

She gasps, as he produces a large orange from his bag, handing it to her. The skin is firm in her hands. It’s been a long time since she’s had any fruit that isn’t mock banana; rationing and the lack of imports due to the war mean that it’s produce that’s hard to come by. The hotel’s chief concierge routinely has to decline the requests of high profile guests that request fresh fruit as part of their room service. She turns the orange around in her hands looking at it reverently. 

“Where did you get this?” She stares up at him, wide-eyed. “Not even Feldman can get oranges!”

Billy shrugs, blushing slightly. “Oh, y’know, I’ve got my ways.”

“Thank you, Billy,” she says, voice filled with soft sincerity. An idea strikes her, excitement swirling in her stomach. “We should share it!”

“Really?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, unless…” she deflates as realisation of how busy he is now hits her, “you probably can’t get away, it’s a silly idea.” She shakes her head, embarrassment warming her flesh.

He steps forward, eager to reassure her. “No, I’ve got time, I can make time. I’ll come back tomorrow?”

She looks up at him, smiling brightly. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

He nods, half turning towards the door. “Well, I should probably–”

“Billy?” She calls to him and he turns back, a look of question on his face, eyebrows raised slightly.

She surges forward, pressing her lips firmly against his cheek, kissing it, before she quickly pulls away again.

For a moment it looks as though Billy has stopped breathing as she watches him, her heart pounding in her chest. Finally, he exhales deeply, his face blushing bright red. He grins and she smiles back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Billy.”

“Yeah…yeah, tomorrow,” he says, adjusting his bag on his shoulder again, before slipping out of the closet door.

He stays true to his promise and the following day they go to the back room, the same place where they have shared so many lunches. This time they sit beside each other, instead of on opposite sides of the table.

Carefully, she slices the orange into segments, giving half to Billy.

The fruit is fleshy and sweet as she bites into it, the tartness of the citrus causing her to emit a satisfied hum as she chews and swallows it.

She looks over at Billy, huffing a laugh as she watches the way the juice drips down his chin.

He looks back, frowning slightly. “What?”

“Come here, you’ve got…” she leans over, wiping the orange residue away with her thumb. Her movements slow, her hand lingering against his face as her eyes settle upon his.

It feels like time stops as their gaze locks, her breath catches in her throat. She is unsure of who moves first, but their lips are against each other, moving slowly at first, filled with uncertainty and inexperience.

He tastes sweet, and their mouths move with more enthusiasm, both able to taste orange upon each other.

They keep their foreheads pressed together once they part for air, both smiling softly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I met you,” he whispers.

Their relationship shifts from that moment. Billy is unable to take her on dates, can’t bring her flowers, his time at the barracks doesn’t allow for that. They have only a series of stolen moments in the hotel to share, sneaking into rooms which have yet to be made up to spend time together. 

It is all sweet kisses and warm cuddles, neither one of them ready to take the steps that go beyond that yet.

She lays against Billy’s chest on the unmade bed, his arm wrapped around her as the other moves his hand through her hair, stroking it. “Hate that I can’t take you out anywhere fancy,” he murmurs.

“I don’t need any of that,” she reassures him, “just you coming back to me alive is enough.”

“You deserve that though,” he insists, hugging her tighter to him, “when this war is over, I’m gonna take you out for dinner. We’ll get married, and we’ll have a house and fill it full of kids.”

Her chest fills with warmth as she grins up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes soft and filled with fondness as he looks at her, “because…well, because I love you.”

Her grin grows wider and she kisses him deeply, feeling the way the skin of his face flushes beneath her fingertips.

“I love you too,” she whispers as she pulls away.

Their dynamic shifts again after that, their cosy stolen mornings become more heated, their kisses more impassioned, every touch is charged with intent.

Where she felt uncertain and scared of what lies beyond innocent kissing before, she now feels only desire for Billy, but isn’t sure of how to communicate this with him.

He pulls away from her as they share a passionate embrace, trailing kisses over her neck. “Can I try something with you?” He whispers.

“What is it?” She asks, whining softly as he pulls away from her.

“Something that one of the lads at the barracks told me about,” he says, not meeting her eye, “it’s how he pleases his missus, thought you might like it.”

She laughs softly, nervously. “Okay, but what is it?”

He swallows thickly, turning scarlet. “Can I just show you? I’m embarrassed to say.”

She nods, eager to see what he’ll do.

“Lay back for me,” he instructs, and she does, watching him through hooded eyes.

Tentatively, he moves down the messy hotel bed, pushing the skirt of her maid’s uniform above her hips, revealing her knickers and stockings. He bites his lip at the sight, never having seen her in such a state of undress before.

She gasps, her eyes going wide, sudden fear filling her. “Billy, we can’t–”

“No, not that,” he’s quick to reassure her, “not until we’re…you’re ready.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing slightly.

“But…” his eyes flit up to hers, filled with uncertainty, “I do need to take your underwear off. Is that alright?”

She gulps. She’s scared, but also curious and excited, she wants to experience whatever it is that Billy has asked to try. “Yeah,” she says quietly, “yeah, that’s alright.”

Gently and slowly, his nimble fingers drag her knickers away from her body and down her legs, discarding them at the end of the bed.

She has the sudden urge to hide her face as he takes in the sight of her, pupils wide with lust. She is torn between wanting to look away and the desire to watch exactly what he’s doing as he carefully coaxes her legs apart.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, “I-I’ve never done this before.”

She gasps as she feels his tongue move against her, hesitantly exploring her folds. The motion of his mouth between her legs is unsure at first, but as his tongue flicks over her pearl and she lets out a surprised moan of pleasure, Billy grows more confident.

He repeats the motion, causing her to squirm and mewl. It feels so intimate, she wants to pull away, filled with shame, to tell him it’s dirty and they shouldn’t be doing this, but at the same time, every time his tongue moves against that particular spot she never wants him to stop.

“God, you taste good,” he mumbles against her.

The movement of his tongue becomes more certain, determined and he laves at her, flicking against the spot that causes her to whimper and grip the bed sheets tightly.

She can feel a pressure building within her, intensifying with every sweep of Billy’s tongue, until finally as he groans against her, circling her bud once more, it reaches its apex and she shudders against him with a surprised cry, feeling boneless as warmth washes over her like the lapping waves of the sea.

“Oh, my god, Billy…'' She breathes heavily.

He lifts his face from between her thighs, a smile on his face, his chin coated in her juices just as it was when they’d shared the orange. She can’t resist the urge to tug him up towards her, kissing him hungrily.

They giggle against each other's lips, both of them breathless.

“I…er…need to clean myself up before I head back,” he tells her, his mouth forming a tight smile, the telltale sign of his shyness that she’s grown to love.

She follows his line of sight to the wet patch on the crotch of his uniform trousers and they both erupt into uncontrollable laughs.

Oh, Billy.

#billy taylor #ewan mitchell #the halcyon #billy taylor x reader #billy taylor x y/n #billy taylor x you #billy taylor imagine #billy taylor smut #billy taylor fan fiction #billy taylor fanfiction #billy taylor fan fic #billy taylor fanfic #the halcyon fan fiction #the halcyon fanfiction #the halcyon fan fic #the halcyon fanfic #billy taylor the halcyon

[saintgoo]

Fresh blood ☆

PAIRING: Rafe Cameron x Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Strangers to Lovers

WARNINGS: Use of drugs (coke)

A/N: I wrote this thinking of reader as a black girl, but I think I didn't write her race very explicitly lmao. FIRST FIC YALL, please be nice!!

wc: 1k ★ ... masterlist ★ ... taglist

Trashy R&B echoed through the house, highlighting the atmosphere at the party. Bodies danced together in the living room without thinking about tomorrow, while Rafe took his black card out of his pocket and lined up a straight line of coke in the center of the fancy wooden table. He ran his finger across his nose in anticipation before looking at the front of the house, people coming and going all the time, but someone caught his attention.

A girl walked through the door, her eyes darting around the room before landing on Liddy, Topper's girlfriend. She opened a smile and hugged the girl as if they had known each other for years, talking about something that Rafe couldn't hear over the music and the distance between them, but he assumed they were greeting each other or something.

"Who's that?" He asked without taking his eyes off the her, her dark skin shone in the dim light of the place, her smile stood out in the crowd.

"That's [name], fresh blood." Topper muttered, taking a sip of his vodka from the bottle. "Liddy told me she came from New York. A real kook."

He murmured in understanding, going back to fiddling with his line of cocaine, not noticing when the two women came upon them. Liddy gave her boyfriend a kiss on the lips, who smiled and hugged her waist, making her sit on his lap, [name] seemed unconcerned, looking at the couple while still standing.

The redhead laughed, hugging Topper's neck and looking at the new girl. Her voice attracted Rafe's attention, who looked at the two of them and then at the girl in front of him, stopping moving the drug to get a good look at her body. "[name], this is Topper and Rafe," she pointed at the two of them, "and boys, this is [name], she moved here two days ago. She's from NY, she's the Joneses' daughter."

"Oh, so you're one of the Joneses?" Topper's voice was irritating and full of himself, you wondered why Liddy was dating him anyway. You decided not to answer him, not having much of a choice since the two of them started making out out of nowhere.

Disgusted, you took a seat next to Rafe on the couch, who was busy making another line of powder, as he had already smelled the previous one while the conversation between the three of you was going on. "Jones, huh? I recognized that pretty face of yours from somewhere..." he murmured without looking at you, finishing the line and leaning his back against the sofa in a comfortable way, taking a peek at the neckline of the girl in that white dress and finally at her eyes, "New York? What would a girl like you be doing here?"

You looked at him with a small smile on your face, watching his deep blue eyes take in your figure. “ “Let’s say I want something more exciting than tall buildings and neon lights.” You answered. Rafe, intrigued, let a soft laugh leave his lips.

The truth is that your father, William Jones, a famous big businessman on the island, had practically begged you to move in with him after you finished school, and well… here you are.

“Here you will have exciting things, for sure.” He smiled, looking away at the table, and leaned over to grab a new bottle of vodka, his knees touching yours slightly. Rafe took off the cap and took a sizable sip, offering you the bottle shortly after. "You drink?"

You didn't answer him, just took the alcohol and drank without looking away from him, who couldn't decide whether to look at your eyes or mouth. You placed the glass on the floor next to your feet, smiling and turning your attention to the dancing crowd, ignoring Rafe's intense gaze on your back as much as possible.

He sighed impatiently, running a hand through his blonde locks. “I'm tired of this place, do you wan' to leave?” He stood up, extending his hand to you. You took a quick look at the other two who were still in a makeout session and held his hand, getting up from the couch and letting him lead the way. Those two wouldn't even realize they had left after all.

Rafe decided to leave through the back doors, as the walk would be easier and faster to avoid the crowd of people near the main door. He took you through the halls still holding your hand, as if the house was his. Stepping outside, you came face to face with the garden, which at that time of night was being wet by automatic sprinklers.

He tried to go around the corner so you guys wouldn't get wet, but you were faster, letting go of his hand and going to the middle of the garden, still facing him, with a smile on your face.

You didn't know if you had this attitude because of the alcohol in your system or because of the excitement of being there with him, but you honestly didn't care at that moment. Rafe turned his eyes to you, wondering why you walked away. “Wanna do something fun?” you questioned, the artificial rain already hitting you.

The man smiled, intrigued. Approaching you slowly ignoring the water that started to wet your clothes. His gaze became even more intense with better lighting, he didn't look away from you as you unconsciously stopped walking, letting him catch up to you.

“I wanna do something fun.” he whispered when he reached you, allowing himself to place both hands on your waist to press your body to his. You put your arms around his neck smiling, caressing the back of his neck.

Putting all your courage into play, you sighed as you closed your eyes and leaned towards Rafe, who met you halfway making your lips meet. His grip on your waist tightened and you hugged his neck more, standing on tiptoe so you could kiss him.

Your clothes were soaked just like the rest of your bodies, but neither of you seemed to care, too busy taking your time in the kiss that intensified with every second. You whined still on Rafe's lips, the two of you breaking apart to catch your breath, he smiled and you smiled back.

“Maybe it’s not so bad to have a fresh blood on the island, after all”

Send me a request! ☆

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks rafe #fanfic #x reader #outer banks x reader #fanfiction #black reader #first fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fic #saintgoo

[look-at-the-soul]

Cia!! Your gifs are always a great inspiration!!!

I wrote this little story to celebrate Father’s Day and the Tommy-horse gif is the perfect match! ♥️🥰✨ (this is a bit longer than a blurb, but shorter than a one shot)

This is also a small tribute to @madame-wilsonn ‘s Midnights series (amazing! Go run and read it if you haven’t) 🌌

Whenever if you celebrate or not Father’s Day for whatever reason, I hope you are having a great day and if you’re struggling given the date, I send you a big bear hug 🥰

A thoughtful gift

Tommy Shelby x reader

Following Frances request, Tommy arrived at Charlie’s yard, it was an early Sunday and he was a bit confused for not knowing where his wife and son were.

But that was about to change as he parked his car and a small blonde head stormed behind the vardos broken pieces. He was able even to hear the daddy’s here! His son announced in a non so whisper.

“Good morning Mr. Shelby.” She greeted him with a kiss and a smile, and that goddam look he was so familiar with, Y/N must’ve been into something behind his back.

“Mrs. Shelby, you look particularly fine this morning.”

“Fine? Just fine?” She joked as his hand sneaked around her waist to give her a squeeze.

“Drop dead gorgeous actually… can we ask Pol to babysit tonight?” His eyes sparkled.

“Oh, I see you’re feeling lucky.”

Tommy smirked. “I am, woman.”

Suddenly a small, wild creature ran to him. “Can we go to the stables now?” Charlie pulled at her sleeve, desperate to show his dad.

Tommy tilted his head at his son’s eagerness.

“What’s going on?” He asked with a suspicious look in his eyes.

“We’ve go-” Charlie started, but she quickly covered his mouth so he wouldn’t ruin the surprise before it was time.

“Hello Tommy.” Curly approached him with a beaming smile. “Y/N and Charlie have been helping me around, they’re so good, so good.”

Tommy was trying to process what was happening, because his wife had always been so caring with Curly, looking after the things he needed, so that wasn’t really a surprise, what made him feel uneasy, was Charlie Strong’s smile.

“You should take a look at the new horseshoe we got, best quality…”

“What did you do this time, Y/N?” Tommy chuckled at his own question. Knowing his wife the way he did…

“What makes you think I did something?” She asked with a fake indignation. “Okay, don’t answer that.” She replied before he could, leaving Tommy with his mouth hanging open.

“Hurry up!” Charlie tried to get your attention from the barn, he was dressed just his father, a mini version of his suit, but wearing shorts, his vest, a white shirt and his peak cap.

“He got that from you, right?” Y/N asked Tommy as they hold hands.

“Me? No, he got it from his mama.”

“I got something for you Dad!”

Curly and Charlie followed their steps.

“Yeah?” Tommy blew away the smoke from his just lighted cigarette.

“Curly would you help Charlie, please?” Y/N asked knowing he was as excited as her son.

“Yes, help Charlie, I’m gonna help him.” He stammered.

“Will you tell me what’s the mystery about?” Tommy arched one of his eyebrows.

Y/N shook her head. “For once, I was able to keep this a secret.”

Taking another puff of his cigarette, Tommy gave her a disapproval look. “Shouldn’t keep secrets from me love.”

“This one was easy and I really hope you like this, not like the one I gave you last year and you never wore.”

He was confused.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know when I give you something and you don’t like it, you never wear it, but this… I’m afraid I won’t be able to get you off.” Y/N distracted him enough, he never realized Charlie was riding a horse towards them, until his wife pointed in front of her with her chin up.

Tommy was lost of words for once in his life as the most beautiful horse approached them. Moving at an elegant pace, the majestic animal made a little sound and Charlie giggled from his seat. Tommy looked from the horse to his wife with a mix of surprise and shock written all over his face.

“Happy Father’s Day, love.” Y/N brought her hand to caress his cheek. “As soon as I heard they would have this beauty for sale, I knew it was mean to be yours.”

“Look what I bought you dad!” Charlie shouted trying to make the horse turn around.

“You did?” Tommy smirked.

“I used my savings.”

“Sure thing.”

“Well, mum helped a little.” Charlie tried to explain, while her mother nudged him with her elbow to let Charlie think he had been the one to pay for the horse.

That made Tommy laugh.

“Go on.” She encouraged him.

Tommy was in awe. Not fully believing the beauty of this horse.

Like a magnet, he walked towards the horse, taking a moment to gently caress her muzzle as he started to whisper in Romani.

“Made me think of all those stories you told me when your Mum gave you a white horse.” She added after a few moments, enjoying the sight of her husband in his element, he and horses were the same thing.

When Tommy looked at her, she noticed the tears in his blue eyes, threatening to slid down his cheeks.

“What are you going to call her dad?” Charlie asked once Curly helped him come down from the horse.

“Midnight.” Tommy rushed to say. “Reminds me of the full moon shining through Midnight.”

“It’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you… for everything.” Tommy stated in a firm voice and in a rare affection burst, he kissed his wife in front of his uncle and Curly, he was usually very reserved.

“Mum look!” Charlie called from the entrance, holding a chicken. A huge grin on his face.

“Alright, tell your joke. Tell Dad.” She could hardly hold the laugh already.

“Why are chickens so funny?”

“Why?” Tommy asked confused.

“Becauuuuuuse.”

Everyone in the barn broke into a loud laugh, including Tommy. Specially him.

“He got the bad jokes from you, definitely.” Charlie Strong stated.

Tommy couldn’t deny that statement.

Once Charlie let go of the chicken, Tommy crouched down to pic him up. Unable to resist his charismatic kid.

“Come ‘ere my boy.”

Y/N treasured the interaction in her heart as Tommy asked Charlie where did he learn that joke right before tickling him. As she joined them, her hand went to Tommy’s back running her fingers up and down, thinking what a blessing it was to witness a moment like this.

Tommy felt like his heart was drumming like crazy thinking how thoughtful this gift was, he felt like his chest could explode from the love. Despite everything he had done, been away for work most of the time, he would be forever grateful with his wife not only for the horse and for raising an incredible kid, but for giving him the family he always dreamed.

***

A/N: The little chicken joke made me laugh for days! 😂Here’s the video that inspired it: video

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine

[yourmomxx]

[the art of making a house a home]

JJ Maybank x male!reader (no pronouns)

or: most people in jj’s life tend to leave him behind in some way - not you though. never you.

warnings: (mentions of) child abuse, wounds, angst, jj doesn’t know what home is, smoking, weed, hurt/comfort

word count: 2.4k

a/n: I really like writing those kind of imagines, so I’ll probably do more of them in the future! but for now, have this angsty piece of literature

request

JJ took a big step out of the shower. He grabbed one of the towels hanging on the heater and wrapped it around his hips, the fabric feeling comfortably warm against his bare skin.

Opposite him hung a huge mirrored cabinet. The hot water had formed droplets of condensation on the surface, now hiding them behind a thin layer of bright mist.

In fact, this mist actually lingered throughout the bathroom.

Your bathroom, JJ suddenly thought. Your bathroom, your towel, your mirror. Your shower, your heater, your sink.

But somehow it might as well be his, or both of yours, as often as he found shelter and sanctuary with you, when he couldn't bear to be at home again.

Home. JJ involuntarily grimaced. Was that what it was? Were his father – Luke? - and the shabby house where they lived and where so many terrible things had happened to him, his home?

Not really.

He found the idea of ​​the small apartment with the bright seat cushions on the couch and the light-colored curtains, an apartment where you would wait for him, where he could wake up next to you every morning, much more inviting. Much more homely.

He wiped the mirror once with the palm of his hand, clearing a condensation-free spot on the smooth surface.

Sometimes he wished it would be just as easy in his head.

Simply raise his hand and wipe away the wafts of fog with one movement, being finally able to see clearly again. Or at least a little clearer, when he took a closer look at the blurred area.

He supported himself with the heels of his hands on the bathroom sink that was fixed under the mirrored cabinet and looked at himself in the free surface with watchful eyes.

Thin strands of blond hair stood up from his head and hung over his face. The otherwise light-blonde surfer mane had taken on a dark color from the shower water. A few small drops of water still fell from some ends, landed cold on his bare upper body and left an irregular trail of water there.

Despite the blurred water vapor, JJ could clearly make out his figure and the individual moves.

Involuntarily his gaze wandered over his upper body. There was a yellowish discoloration where the towel ended and his defined abs began.

He gently ran his finger over it. Unlike a few days ago, that slight contact with the bruise no longer hurt. The swelling had gone down too, he noted with satisfaction.

Irregular, he could see circular, white scars that split on his forearms. Remnants of burns from cigarette butts to be extinguished.

He caught his gaze in the mirror. Blue-grey eyes stared back at him. They seemed lifeless to him, with the dark circles underneath and the heavy lids that suggested he hadn't had a comfortable night's sleep in days.

Which wasn't even necessarily wrong.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand. Now, when the adrenaline subsided, he felt exhaustion settling in his limbs.

As if automatically, his fingers wandered a little higher on his forehead, just below the hairline. He felt a slight bump in the tanned skin under his fingertips. He lifted his hair out of his face.

The scar wasn't big, probably less than an inch. It was almost directly parallel to his hairline and was therefore mostly hidden by the blond mane that fell over his forehead.

And yet sometimes he felt like it was yelling at him when he looked in the mirror.

The thin white line seemed to mock him. Again and again he found himself struggling to fix his hair at all times so that no one could see it, and only take off his caps with his head bowed when he did so.

It was a too constant reminder of the night his father - Luke? – came home drunk once again and hadn’t been satisfied with the meal his (eleven-year-old) son had cooked.

He had pushed him against the edge of a table that evening.

JJ told the doctors at the hospital that he had tripped over a fold in the carpet and injured himself on the table that way. The doctors bought it from him.

It would have been so easy for JJ to just tell them the truth. Screaming at the nurse, begging on his knees, how awful his father was to him, for someone to set him free.

But he hadn't. Luke hadn't even been to the hospital at the time.

Anger overwhelmed him. He banged his fist on the edge of the sink impulsively. Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

Shit Luke Maybank, shit American health care, shit doctors who should have checked further, and shit little eleven-year-old-JJ who didn't have the guts even then to stand up to his shit father.

He clenched his jaw as he felt a sting behind his eyes. No, he wouldn't cry, not now, not at all anymore. He had brought this on himself, he, and his damned cowardice.

JJ pressed the heels of his hands against his closed eyes. Something to counteract the headache that was coming.

He flinched when the bathroom door opened and caught his breath when he saw you standing there.

"Is everything okay? I heard-" You cut yourself off mid-sentence. JJ tensed when he saw where your eyes were going.

"Shit, JJ," you managed to ground out. He avoided looking at you.

He hated it - when you saw him like that, so wounded and vulnerable, and when your voice took on a pained tone and your sentences started with Shit, JJ.

JJ didn't look up. Skillfully, he just pretended that there was nothing there that seemed worth your attention and kept his gaze fixed on his arm. Just his skin, and the muscles beneath it.

He efficiently ignored how your gaze roamed his back, which had probably already formed red welts and bruises - consequences of the anger of Luke Maybank - his father? - and the one reason why he was standing in your bathroom right now and not lying somewhere in his bed.

There was a thump as you put the first aid kit down next to him.

He frowned at himself as he realized he hadn't even noticed you left the bathroom. Had he been too caught up in his head, had the mist blocked his view too much for him to notice?

You gestured for him to sit down and he complied. He was too tired to argue anyway.

JJ vaguely noticed you take a seat behind him on the bathroom floor and moments later he felt your fingers gently trace his back. He could only imagine what he looked like. Swollen welts and probably even little wounds, maybe crusted blood? He felt sick.

JJ fell into his thoughts. Into the deep nothing. From time to time he almost shied away from your fingers and the cold ointment, but caught himself again immediately.

You sat in silence. You hadn't said anything since discovering his wounds, and JJ himself found the thought of straining his vocal cords far too tedious.

The blond boy caught a glimpse of the mirror out of the corner of his eye, recognizing you.

Your facial features were concentrated on working on his wounds, but your eyes reflected the deep concern in them. JJ loathed that. Hated that you cared for him, cared for him when he didn't deserve it.

For a brief moment, nothing happened, then JJ felt your upper body cautiously leaning closer to his, and you placed a feather-light but honest kiss on his shoulder from behind.

JJ almost winced at the touch, tensing at the softness that lay within it. So gentle, in a way he wasn't used to even after a few months in a relationship with you.

You didn't blame him, you never had. You knew what was going on at JJ's house and why he showed up at your door pretty much every day, head hanging, muscles hurting and mind aching.

There were better days too, when he was almost glued to you, taking your hand, snuggling up to you every moment he could get his hands on.

But of course there were worse ones, like today, for example. Then he didn't talk much if at all, carrying on conversations more in his head than out loud.

But then you always gave him his space without ever leaving him completely lonely. And he was grateful to you for that.

“Come on, big guy. ‘S time we get you in bed." Your voice was hoarse next to his ear, yet so soft and warm he wanted to sink into it. He stood up slowly and you lifted your chin from his shoulder.

Obediently he trotted - or rather dragged himself - towards your bedroom (both of yours?). You just followed him without a word.

JJ liked your bedroom. The king size bed was placed in the middle of a medium sized room. A tall wardrobe stood against one wall and a door led to another room, the bathroom.

On the opposite wall, two curtained windows offered an almost perfect view of the open sea.

Over the months, JJ had found that knowing the ocean so close to him whenever he stayed at your place was immensely comforting, and how the sound of the crashing waves breaking on the beach lulled him to sleep.

You never told him how you didn't really like the salty cold of the sea air and only ever left the window open for your boyfriend.

Without a word, you handed JJ a hoodie – burgundy, no print. With slow movements he slipped the garment over himself, the soft fabric nestled comfortably against his tingling skin. He took fresh boxershorts from a drawer.

JJ took a deep breath. Your scent enveloped him. Coconut palms, perfume and cedar wood.

No cigarettes.

This had to be the sweater you never allowed yourself to smoke in, then. It was a - for him strange - habit of yours. You smoked regularly, and yet there were some areas, or items of clothing, where you absolutely forbade yourself and others to smoke.

How many times had you sent him into the kitchen so the stench of smoke wouldn't eat into your bedroom walls? Or on the terrace so that the kitchen would be able to "breathe" again?

JJ grinned to himself.

He glanced out the window where he could vaguely make out the light sand of the beach and the blue-pink sky as the sun slowly set behind.

He shuffled his way to your bed, where you were already waiting for him, lying on your back and one arm stretched out for him. JJ dropped ungracefully next to you.

He rested the back of his head on your shoulder, felt your body beneath him and stared at the white ceiling, lost in thought.

JJ also liked your bed.

He found it comfortable, with the wide mattress, which even springs back a little when you adjust to it, and that wasn’t saggy, as if Charlemagne had slept in it himself.

A not sagging mattress, JJ thought. Not worn out like at his place... at home? Inwardly he shook his head. Somehow, it still didn't feel right.

“Hey, JJ?” He suddenly heard you say. Your voice was quiet, maybe to not startle him.

“Mmm?” JJ hummed.

“Say something next time.”

JJ felt his stomach drop. He had known. He had known you were angry with him. That you were fed up with how he always came to you to cry to you about his tearful stories, how you always had to take care of him. JJ tensed. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

This would be it. You would tell him to stop being whiny and dramatic, to suck it up and behave like a man.

His hand cranked into the fabric of your shirt.

“Hey,” you softly said. “Hey, JJ!” Abruptly, you sat up and took his head into your hands. JJ hadn’t even realized that he was shaking up until now.

He avoided your gaze.

“Hey JJ, look at me.” Your tone was commanding yet gentle and JJ found himself doing exactly what you asked of him. Stupid welling tears that made his vision blurry.

“JJ, it’s alright,” you calmed him down. Your thumb was softly stroking his cheek. You noticed his breathing even out.

“JJ, I’m here for you,” you said, “But you’ve gotta talk to me. I want to help you but I can’t do that if you keep this from me. Do you hear me?”

For a second, JJ was confused. So you weren’t angry with him, or yelling, you were actually just … worried. Really simply only worried, for him.

He felt his head grow dizzy at the thought.

“J,” you repeated. “I want you to tell me you understand.” A bit of the fog in JJ’s mind cleared, as he looked into your eyes. Then, he slowly nodded.

A small smile started tugging at the corners of your lips. “Good. Now, come on.”

You used your thumb to wipe a loose tear off of JJ’s cheek, and laid down onto the bed again. JJ went back to his former position with his back laid on your side and his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

He was still processing this entire situation.

Well, of course, rationally speaking, there was no chance you would’ve gotten mad at him over this. After all, the bruises weren’t his fault, he had learned that by now.

But a single drop of doubt always managed to mix into his already uneasy mind, and had the habit of turning soft waves into torrential floods over just the right amount of time.

The hiss of a lighter snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned his neck towards you and could see you holding the orange flame to the end of a hand-rolled blunt.

JJ watched as your cheeks drew in with the hit and you took the joint back from your lips. The smoke that followed didn't bother him the slightest.

Then you held the smoldering joint in front of him. JJ frowned and looked up at you.

"The hoodie?" he asked confused. You just shrugged.

"Can be washed," was your short answer. A faint smile formed on JJ's lips and he snuggled a little closer to you, if that was even possible.

The tips of his hair tickled the base of your throat as you watched him take a deep drag on the joint. His cheeks hollowed out, and after a brief moment, holding the smoke in his lungs, he puffed it out in the air toward the window. Like that would make a difference, but you appreciated the thought.

You took the blunt out of his hand and, with some difficulty, stretched to put it out in the ashtray. You would check later whether it could still be used afterwards.

You turned your full attention back to JJ, who by now had rolled onto his side and was snuggled into your side like a little boy, his arm wrapped around your waist.

He buried his face in your tank top and relaxedly closed his eyes.

The sounds of the rushing sea came through the half-open window, the wind seemed to be stronger out on the sea. Here and there a few squabbling seagulls could be heard screeching to each other.

You carefully lifted the arm JJ was draped on and slowly brought it near the back of his head. Carefully and slowly you tangled your fingers in his blond locks and began massaging his scalp.

JJ made a sound, that could be close described to a purr and you dared to apply a little more pressure.

At your feet lay the duvet, crumpled at the end of the bed.

The summer night wasn't necessarily hot, but after all, JJ was wearing your hoodie and you had your boyfriend's body heat to keep you warm.

The blond boy moved his hand, which was on your hip, and slipped it under a fold of your tank top. He placed his hand at your side, just above the waistband of your pants. Automatically his thumb began to draw gentle circles on your skin.

He felt you breathe beneath him. His ear could dully hear the slow beating of your heart.

JJ's breathing also became shallower and more regular. He felt exhaustion catch up with him and sleep drew him to it with open arms.

On the edge of his consciousness he noticed how you pressed a gentle kiss on his hairline.

JJ sighed in content. And this, JJ thought, just before he finally fell asleep, is what home feels like.

@miofrommars

#gif by antoxx on weheartit #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x male!reader #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x male reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks imagine #outer banks #requested #yourmomxx #the art of making a house a home

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: Work is starting to get pretty busy again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You are left undisturbed for near a day after the news arrives. You should be grateful for the reprieve but you cannot find respite among your unease. 

Edith is gone, your world is splintered, yet this marriage must proceed. Not for your own sake, but for your family's. You expect your father wouldn't be content to have you return to his household. The only benefit to your sister's tragedy is that he was able to rid himself of you.

Doreen informs you that you are to ready for another lunch. You choose a gown of faded peach and a bonnet with a narrow rim and white ribbon. She helps you dress before leaving to look in on your mother.

You look in the mirror and wonder if maybe you were prettier your voice wouldn't matter so much. You pin the brooch with the blue bird just below your neckline. You pretend Edith is there with you, talking you through this. I believe in you, sissy, remember when you stole my cap back from that angry hog?

You wait to be called. You hate to presume or wait around where others might be disturbed by your presence. It isn't Doreen who comes but another servant, a broad steely-haired woman. She bids you out and you follow meekly, gaze straying to the golden frames and painted canvas.

The meal is hosted in the dining hall. A long ebony table with matching chairs. Each seat is upholstered with emerald velvet and capped with curlicued posts. You are shown to yours by Parson to the one reserved for you. 

Your mother sits with her tears hidden behind her fan, not so much as looking in your direction. Doreen stands at her shoulder and offers a handkerchief. You can only hear the reprimand she would issue should you be blubbering so.

You rise as the duke enters, but not alone. Your mother leans heavily on the way, gathering herself with several flaps of her fan. She snaps it shut and tucks it away as she raises her chin, shooing away Doreen.

“Lady Thea,” Laufeyson begins before addressing you, “my parents, the Grand Duke Odin and the Grand Duchess, Frigga.”

He steps aside as an older couple stand regally in the archway. The man is burly but stout, with dark grey hair streaked with white. His jaw is set squarely and there is a familiar blue tint to his eyes. The woman is tall and blond and fair, her figure untouched by her age and her hair so golden that the grey strands only seem to make her shine.

You recognise them. The portraits in the main hall. Even with some decades since the artist’s work, they are beyond compare to their pigmented likenesses. They are as elegant and resplendent as their son. It sinks a rotten pit in your chest. Perhaps, they might not want you either.

“We’re acquainted, Thea and I,” Frigga declares, “I believe your father might recall her.”

“Yes, Lady Thea,” he bows, “I know your husband better, I’m afraid.”

The duke has a pinched look to his lip as he listens with his chin high. He moves stiffly, gesturing to the table, “mm, yes, let us be seated–”

“Loki,” Frigga says as she slowly wades forward, her skirts rippling like water, “what about your brother? He received an invitation, didn’t he?”

“Mother, certainly he did, but he is ever… unpredictable,” Loki offers. It is jarring to think of him as anything but the duke. To think he is anything but the master of Jade Park.

“Lady Jane is with child,” Frigga counters, “it might take them some time.”

“Lady Frigga, Lord Odin,” your mother begins, “I cannot remark upon your son’s hospitality enough. He’s been a wonderful host, especially…” she pauses and turns her head, touching her cheek with a gloved hand.

“Oh, we were distraught to hear of Lady Edith. Such a tragedy. So young and beautiful.”

You stare at the wall. You try not to think of the statement laced between her words. You are young too but not so beautiful.

“And your younger daughter is endearing, that is a rather charming brooch,” she turns her green irises on you.

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga,” you hold your head high as you cling to a thread of dignity.

Her cheeks bulb and there is a slight tremor in her chin before she can answer, “oh, that is a peculiar accent, dear.”

You don’t know if you should thank her. You can’t tell if she holds any derision but you’d prefer she not mention it. It’s obvious, it needn’t be emphasized.

Your eyes skitter over to Odin who watches you with quiet consideration. He does not hold the same disapproval as your father but you can’t read much in his face.

“She is all I have left,” your mother bemoans, “two daughters. That’s all I got. How I wanted to give my husband his heir but… it was not to be and now…”

“Oh, Thea,” Frigga drawls, “if you are to fraught to remain–”

“No, no,” your mother expands her fan and pushes air into her face, dabbing her tears with her knuckle, “no, I’m so happy for our families to come together.”

“As are we. It is only sensible–”

She is interrupted by some furor at the other end of the house. A smile curls her lips as a booming voice fills the corridor like thunder. As your eyes drift towards the doorway, they meet Loki’s. He looks at you with a furrow between his brows before he shifts his gaze towards the clamour.

The men rise first. You get to your feet as Parson rushes in to announce the new arrival. As he introduces Lord Thor and Lady Jane, he is almost breathless. The couple appears behind him, the towering duke clapping the groom’s shoulder so he staggers. The duchess gives a pretty smile to the grand duchess as her hand rests on her rounding stomach.

“Oh, Jane,” Frigga sweeps across the chamber to embrace her daughter-in-law without pretense, “you are immaculate,” she pulls back and cradles her cheeks, “you look well.”

“Do I? I’ve been struck sick for days.”

“But it shall pass,” Frigga avows and beckons the duchess with her to the table, “Lady Jane, my first son’s wife.”

You bow your head and your mother does the same, taking the lead as you remain silent, “Lady Jane, a delight to… meet you. Oh, my apologies,” your mother fans herself more rapidly, “your eyes, they have the same shape as my dear Edith’s.”

“Edith?” Jane utters and looks at Frigga. The grand duchess leans over to whisper gently. “Oh, my condolences, Lady Thea, oh and such timing as this?” She turns to you, “a betrothal is supposed to be a joyous affair, I cannot bear to think how you are doing.”

You don’t know what to say, as often you find yourself lacking. Your lips tremble but you do your best to keep your composure.

“I will miss my sista vewy much,” you try to speak slow and clear, but it just sounds clumsy, “I didn’t know…” you see the flicker in her eyes, the dimple in her cheek, the judgment casting a shadow over her, “I didn’t know you and yaw husband would attend.”

Jane’s lips part and her brows rise as she looks at her mother-in-law. Frigga tries not to acknowledge the almost taunting expression. You can’t. You feel it throttling you. Just be quiet.

“How fetching,” Thor intones, surprising you as he comes to stand behind his mother and wife, chewing a biscuit he snatched from the tray.

“Fetching?” Jane scoffs.

“The way she speaks, yes? I think it is… interesting.”

“That hardly matters,” Frigga insists, “it is what one says, not how they say it.”

You clamp your lips together. You want to crumple to the floor and sob. You don’t want to be stood here like some jester to entertain these people. You want to go home and see your sister’s casket. You want to be near her, even if she’s not really there.

Again, you find Loki’s distasteful glare. His throat bobs and his lips thin even further.

“Yes, yes, let us sit and eat. My staff has worked the morning to prepare us a fine lunch,” he chides, “I’d hate to see it wasted.”

🔹

You stare at your untouched plate of cold meats and cheese. You’re not very hungry. Perhaps it is grief, or more likely it is shame. You want to shrink down to a morsel of dust and disappear.

There is an odd sort of skill acquired by those who are quiet. Observation. The ability to see so much, to take in every gesture, every twitch, every look with meaning. And you do not miss those errant gazes in your direction. Some with anticipation, others with dread, each waiting for you to say another twisted syllable.

Your mother fills the silence you refuse to break. She regales the table with the story of how she met your father on the promenade, how he trod on her skirts, and she hit him with her reticule. A tale you’ve heard anon.

She hiccups suddenly and cups her hand over her mouth. You turn to look at her as her wrinkles deepen and her gulps become sobs. She shakes her hand and waves her other. Doreen appears at her shoulder.

“My lady,” the servant says.

“Oh, Lady Thea,” Frigga dismisses the maid with a subtle flick of her fingers, “let us get you some air. It is such a lovely day, and I believe we do have some matters to attend to.” She helps your mother to her feet, hanging on to her elbow, “Lord Odin, you will accompany, in case she faints.”

Odin grunts. He hasn’t said much of anything. He seems more enamoured of this plate. As he stands, he stuffs a roll of sliced ham into his mouth. Chairs scrape as you stand to see them off. Doreen follows the older trio through the archway as they set off.

You resume your seat and watch the tablecloth. Your mother was of little assistance while present but without her, you are defenseless. Loki sips from his tea as Jane spears a slice of pear with her fork and Thor cracks a hard-boiled egg in his hand.

“So, I’ve not seen you before. You haven’t debuted?” Jane asks.

Your eyes flit up to hers. You almost don’t believe she’s talking to her. You’d been praying they’d forget you were there.

“My sista was ill and she is older so I was waiting until she went fast.”

“Fast? Went fast?” Jane repeats as she pretends to think, “went fast where?”

Loki sighs and sets his cup on the saucer with a harsh clink, “first. She meant first.”

“Oh, my, apologies, I’m afraid I have a bit of trouble understanding you. I don’t think I’ve heard any sort of affectation,” he smiles falls to something more sinister, “it is rather… garish.”

“Jane,” Thor says through a mouthful of egg, stopping himself to swallow, “she speaks clearly enough.”

“I’ve heard of physicians who can tend to that. They can teach you how to pronounce your words properly. Through repetition.” She enunciates each word, making sure to move her lips deliberately.

You fight a grimace. You swallow and look at your plate. It isn't the first time someone's made those comments, she will doubtful be the last. Just like those boys who used to call you 'widiculous' or 'wavishing'.

“Please, this doesn’t need to be a whole point of conversation,” Loki reproaches.

“I am only offering advice.”

“You are the one who spoke to her. None of us wanted to hear her.”

“Loki,” Thor says appalled, “she is to be your wife.”

“I was supposed to marry her sister. The normal one. The dead one.”

You flinch and let your shoulders slump. You bring your hands up and cover the brooch on your dress, as if holding Edith tight. Your lip pokes out as you fight a tide of grief that threatens to erupt.

“Aw, look, she is going to cry,” Jane taunts.

“Jane,” Thor’s voice hardens, “no more.”

Jane snaps her lips shut and rolls her beautiful hazel eyes. She pops the slice of sugared pear into her mouth behind her cruel smirk. Loki sneers at his fork as he twirls it in his hand. Thor gives you a glum look but it lands like a slap. He cannot relate to you, he can only pity you, and that is worse than contempt.

“If you are cuwious, Lady Jane, I have been to many physicians. They cannot help me,” you shrug, “just like they could not help my sista.”

Thor clucks and lets out a breath through his nostrils. Jane doesn’t falter, smiling as she chews, and Loki pushes himself to his feet. His chair threatens to topple as he swivels on his heel.

“I would see to our parents, make certain they are well and that this… contract is still in effect,” he takes rigid steps along the table, “I should hate to squander any more time in uncertainty.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #the sticking point #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor #jane foster #frigga #odin

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- Granddaughter Pt3

Pt1

I walk to the pub James frequents at. Nervously I scan around and see James with his girlfriend on his lap. I take a deep breath and walk over to him

"Jame can we speak, alone"

"Look at this boys. Told ya she'd be back, look love I've moved on time for you to as well" he laughs

"Actually James I don't want you back, but you deserve to know something. Have a choice, so can we..?" I motion to an empty table. He moves his girlfriend off his lap and they walk to the table and both sit down

"So?"

"I erm... I had a baby"

"Ok and?"

"She's yours, her names Eloise" James laughs

"Yeah sure. You've probably been whoring round. That's what you Shelby's do isn't it. Your a bastard as well aren't you? Your dad fucked a whore got her pregnant, your aunt fucked your dads best mate and got pregnant. Lest she fucking married the man, but did you think you'd be any different?"

"She's yours, I haven't..." James interrupts me from speaking further

"Whatever YN. Tell your dad I'm not marrying you or accepting that bastard as mine" James stands up leaving me to try and stop the tears in my eyes. I get up from the seat and leave the pub as quickly as I can and go home.

I arrive to Grace rocking Eloise in her bassinet that's downstairs

"Grace?" YN cries

"YN what happened?" YN runs to her step mum and crying in her arms

"I told him and he doesn't want to know her. Said we were both bastards and I'm a whore. And now he's probably going to tell everyone that I have a daughter and I probably slept with loads of people"

"Like hell he will" I hear dads voice, not knowing he was in the room when I poured my heart out to Grace "I'll deal with him"

"No dad just leave it. This is my mess"

"YN he did this to you. He bragged about it. No one messes with the Shelby's you got that. I'll be back later" dad takes his peaky hat and coat leaving the house

"What will he do?"

"Probably just scare him. Won't do more than punch him. Now why don't you go and have a bath, relax and I'll keep an eye on Eloise"

"Ok" I wipe my tears. Lean down in the bassinet and place a kiss on my daughters head before going to have a bath.

Later on in the evening dad comes home. I'm sat on the sofa holding Eloise whose awake and content. I notice blood on dads shirt

"Dad what did you do?" I ask watching him take his cap off

"James won't say shit now"

"What does that mean dad. What did you do?" I ask

"Arthur, John, Finn and I had a little word with him. When he started spewing shit I had to make him realises I wasn't joking. He's fine, just a bloody nose"

"Dad you can't just punch every one I have a problem with"

"No?m, but when they are saying lies about my daughter and granddaughter I have to let them know that they don't mess with the fucking peaky blinders. He said he won't marry you, well I don't want you to marry him. He's not good enough for my little girl. Until you meet the right person and I approve of him I will be by your side and help you. Promise"

"Thanks dad" I say giving him a little smile

"I'm going to get changed and when I come back down I'd like to have a cuddle with my granddaughter if that's ok?"

"Of course it is dad"

"Told you your dad would come around" Grace says smiling "and you are going to be just fine. One day you'll meet a nice man and he won't care that you had a baby out of wedlock. He will love you both"

"I hope so" I sigh. Dad walks back downstairs in clean clothes and takes Eloise from my arms

"You might not have a father right now, but you are very loved and you'll be spoilt rotten. You mummy loves you so does granny Grace and gandpa Tommy"

"Please don't call me granny. Nan will do" Grace chuckles making me laugh.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #tommy shelby