#I miss queuing up to get on the plane

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) mentions of pregnancy, love bombing, occasionally sad, kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

INDEX

Chapter 25 - ‘You’re Mine’

You laid outside in the sun as the time started to tick by and get closer to when you needed to pack up and head to the airport. The whole group was flying back together including the Birmingham boys so it would be a little bit more interesting of a flight home but you’d worry about Lauren’s love life later because right now you stared at a messy room you needed to somehow get back into your bags. You lazily threw your stuff back in your suitcase sitting on the floor of your room while Trent laid doing nothing on the bed just following your movements.

“Baby…” he cooed, laughing a little watching you move around struggling with your packing.

“Yeah huh?” You sang back trying to sit on your suitcase now for it to close.

“Need help?” He raised his eyebrow looking at you with a sly smile. He laughed a little more as you pulled at the zipper.

“Ermm… maybe, yeah, T.” You giggled back at him sheepishly, embarrassed trying to pull the zipper again and failing so you stood up and stared back at him with a little pout.

“Alright c’mon move, let me do it.” He giggled when you sat down on the silver rimowa pressing it closed. You ran your hands up Trent’s toned legs as he stood next to you leaned over to zip it. You hummed feeling his muscles underneath your hands. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re very sexy, T.” You squeezed both your hands on his strong thighs igniting a fire in your stomach. God, he looked so good all the time and the shorts he was currently in were just doing something for you. You kissed his skin softly before he reached under your arms and pulled you up to stand.

“C’mere.” He grunted picking you up. “All set, pretty girl.” He winked, pulling your body into him. “Gotta get going soon. Gonna miss it here?” He cooed swaying back and forth with you in his arms humming.

“Thank you. Errmm I don’t know you know…” you thought a little bit more about your holiday. It started off so terribly (thank you Chase) but it ended so wonderful in the encasement of Trent’s scent as his hands caressed your stomach dreaming of getting started on your baby journey. “I think I’m happy to be going home. Want to be back in our little world. Miss the dogs” you giggled. “What about you, baby?”

“Don’t know, will miss you in those little bikinis.” He cheekily smiled at you, imagining you in a lot less clothing then you were currently in. You were in a little cropped baby tee and trousers. His fingers came to hook around the belt loops pulling at the material and you some.

“I can still wear those at home, T… we do have a pool. It’s summer.” You giggled stepping out of his embrace walking to the dresser to your tote bag filled with all your flight essentials again to double check for your passport. He followed you and pressed his chest against your back. His hands drifting down your sides and then in between you two to squeeze your ass cheeks.

“Yeah… well I expect to see that immediately. Alright?” You just hummed in response rolling your head back giving him more room to come and kiss your neck and that he did.

You jogged up the stairs off the tarmac to board the plane followed by Trent holding your bag kindly as you giggled with Lauren. After take off he sent you a wink queuing you to scurry over to him to cuddle and get more comfortable. Your lips were glued to him the second you sat down just loving kissing and sucking on his neck subtly in your own world. All the boys were exhausted from the late night, half were asleep but it seemed Marcel was up keeping an eye on Lauren’s moves. You clocked it but when Trent’s hands caressed your skin under your top you lost the ability to focus quickly.

“I love you, baby. Can’t wait to get you home.” Trent whispered in your ear as his hands started to slip lower and lower before playing with the waistband of your trousers. His fingers slid underneath it and started to get awfully close to your core. God, if you weren’t on the plane with his little brother and closest friends you would’ve let him keep going but you grabbed at his wrist giggling trying not to push your core down any further on his lap and change your own mind.

“Baby, baby, baby… can’t do that to me right now.” You said placing kisses on his neck still just now with a sly smile knowing he wanted you.

“Then you…” he said, pulling his body further away from you. Distancing your faces, so he could look you dead in the eye. “You cannot keep sucking on my neck like that. Driving me mad, beautiful. Not being very fair.” His face was serious. He moved quick to come and suck on your neck dramatically mocking what you were doing to him then pulling away. You couldn’t suppress your giggle very well at the wet feeling of his lips and inadvertently drew the attention of Lauren. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at you two before standing up and walking over to the seat that was facing you and Trent. She sat and pulled her legs up close to her body, settling in.

“Soooooo…” she cooed, eyes widening with smugness.

“What?” You giggled as Trent squeezed your waist tightly placing his head on your shoulder. He looked at Lauren with inquiry.

“No, no, nothing. Just was curious about a little rumour I’ve been hearing about.” She smirked, raising her eyebrows. Okay, so you definitely confided in Lauren plenty of times about how you were thinking about a baby with Trent but seemingly she and George had had their own conversation about the insights they had gotten from both of you separately and now compiled them to make one narrative. In turn, she was awfully excited to hear you were going home to ‘start’ according to him.

“A rumour huh?” Trent asked curiously as his hand instinctively rubbed over your exposed stomach.

“Yeah T… a rumour and I’m pretty sure you’re thinking about it right now.” Lauren said somehow even more smug watching his big hands move over your soft, currently empty and flat tummy. You shook your head with a smile at their little back and forth banter.

“Shhhh.” You shushed Lauren. “This is an us thing… not an everybody thing, besides you are in a much more interesting situation I’m curious to know about.” You giggled.

“More interesting than having a…” she started to talk but Trent cut her off.

“Lauren… we’ll let you know, alright?” He laughed dismissing the conversation. “Y/N’s right, what’s the play? If you sit with either of them on this flight… I mean, is that you choosing?” Trent pushed wanting to know if Lauren had made some sort of decision between Jude and Marcel.

“No! Not choosing. We’re all fine. They’re just different people. Provide different things” She laughed, dropping her head in her hands. Lauren was rarely embarrassed so you were surprised to see her flustered by this.

“Well let’s see what they think! Go find out Laur and we’ll watch. We can put a wager on it. Inflight entertainment.” You giggled looking over Lauren to see Jude on his phone, unaware you were about to use him in a game.

“Watch what? They aren’t going to do anything on the plane.” Lauren laughed again, Trent joining her both knowing that Jude and Marcel would most definitely not be opposed to doing something on the plane.

“Go sit with each of them and if they kiss you, make a move, whatever… which I know both of them will try then hmmm you owe me £100 and if they don’t like you think, I don’t know, you win something and ultimately then we know who's interested.” You shrugged squinting at her then peered around the plane to find where Marcel had gone.

“Fine.” She smiled deviously. “They won’t, so when I win… I get to be first to know, you two have to tell me first and you can name her Lauren.” She smiled big.

“I’ll give you the first bit, draw the line at the name.” You giggled. Watching Lauren get up from her seat as Trent pressed a kiss to your cheek. She walked over and sat on a couch pretending to mind her own business when she worked her normal charm throwing a soft smile at Marcel. It wasn’t long before he came over and sat next to Lauren. She slyly slouched in her seat a little more to lean her body onto his. You watched him lean over and whisper in her ear. She giggled and gently shut her eyes clearly enjoying whatever he had to say. Her hand sliding up his thigh.

“Yeah, this is between you two, I don’t want to watch this.” Trent said, grabbing his iPad to start playing a game. He felt nauseous watching Marcel put in work on any girl, let alone Lauren. You laughed and nodded, pressing a sensual kiss on his neck. He pulled away from you and gave you a stern look.

“Sorry!” You whispered shyly. “It’s a habit.” You joked looking back at Lauren who was whispering some sort of response in Marcel’s ear. You held your stare a little longer until she started to plant kisses on his skin working down his neck. You rolled your eyes. She couldn’t help herself. She lost the bet within the first round but it was a little funny. She clearly had some type of feelings for the boy. Marcel got up to go play a game with George and Lauren stood up to go to the bathroom a while later on. When she walked down the aisle it took little to no time at all for Jude to pull at her waist. She stumbled a little bit and ended up in his lap. His lips were on her bare shoulder almost immediately.

“When do you leave England?” He whispered as she squirmed trying to settle the horny monster Marcel had ignited in her.

“Few hours after we land, you?” She cooed now trying to look forward and ignore his advances.

“Same, so come with me instead.” Jude commanded with a particularly seductive bite to the nape of her neck. Lauren had a hard time stifling a gasp.

“Come with you where?” She smiled a little at the idea of going anywhere with him right now. Jude played her like a fiddle. It was so easy for him and she loved being played with.

“Just come to Spain, yeah? I’ll move your flight, you can head home after you spend the week with me there.” Her eyes widened at the offer. She was shocked he was trying to continue this past holiday. It confused her more, she really had dug herself quite a hole.

“I can’t…” she started talking when his hands caressed her soft skin higher and higher up her leg causing Lauren to quickly change her mind. “Fine, but we can’t tell anyone, they’ll make a big deal out of it.” She turned to face Jude a little taken aback for a moment forgetting his prominent bone structure.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He hushed her. You shook your head unaware of the plans being made and diverted your attention back to the silly little game Trent was playing and cuddled some more into him. He hummed at your touch.

“What are we going to do?” Lauren whispered to Jude needing a little more information. He moved his lips behind her ear some and then spoke.

“What I want to do right now but can’t.” She just nodded trying to downplay her excitement. Lauren clearly lost the bet so you sent her a Venmo request. ‘Make up your mind 😘’ you teased. You settled in more and fell asleep on Trent’s chest. You have no idea what everyone else did during the rest of the flight but you began to wake up to sweet kisses all over your face as the plane started to descend. You smiled and shuffled a little in his lap and picked up your phone, finally starting to get better service and opened Instagram mindlessly. Your eyes widened and you felt sick.

“Baby…? You okay, beautiful?” Trent cooed in your ear seeing your expression change, your body go stiff. You didn’t respond as you clutched your phone. You looked down at your notifications practically about to break your phone. You went to your profile and saw your measly 5,000 followers massed to over 250k since the time you had taken off in Greece.

“T…” you mumbled. You held up your phone for him to look.

“Oh wow… well, that’s sort of what you wanted, innit?” He joked trying to lessen the shock with some humor but your look of concern didn’t budge.

“T…” you groaned looking at him wide eyed.

“Alright, alright, it’s fine. Let’s put your instagram on private for now till we can talk to Tyler.” He told you kindly with a kiss to your forehead before grabbing your phone to do it for you.

“Y/N…” Lauren sheepishly called out from further down the plane. You picked your head up to look at her. “My instagram is being ransacked right now… my DMs are going insane with people asking for information about you.” She talked lowly. You winced hearing it. Trent felt your body shudder so he spoke before you did.

“Laur, I hate to do this, but can you just not respond to anything until we figure out what we’re doing?” Trent hesitantly asked her, feeling horrible about monitoring someone else's actions on social media.

“No, no, course.” Lauren cooed unphased but she saw your face drop more. “It’s gonna be fine. You were a public profile to begin with Y/N. You were never hiding. Try not to worry!” She said reminding you of the facts, walking over to you to give you a hug.

“Baby, our relationship was never a secret. Hmm? Lauren’s right, it's all gonna be fine.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. You just hummed, switching off your phone and throwing it in your bag before you hid your face in his neck. His hands stroked up and down your spine. As you calmed, Trent slyly texted Tyler giving him a heads up about the arising situation. He wasn’t thrilled but as expected he had it sorted and would handle it. You landed safely back in England. It was a sunny warm welcome, despite feeling like there was a cloud over your head at the moment. You stood on the ground hugging Trent’s waist, your head pressed against him as George explained something about airplanes to the group. You don’t really know what he was on about, your head was completely gone at the minute. The only thing keeping you sane was Trent’s hands on your skin and the thought of being back in your bed. Lauren walked over to you wheeling her suitcase and pinched at your waist.

“Gonna miss me?” She cooed with a soft smile.

“What will I do for entertainment now?” You cheekily responded, returning the soft smile. “Do you want us to help you get to your gate or anything?” You asked sweetly, pulling your head off Trent.

“No, no, erm… I’m good. I actually think.” Lauren was cut off by an interrupting Jude.

“You wanna get going?” He whispered as his big hand gripped her tiny waist. She smiled greedily up at him, he returned the lustful look while you and Trent’s eyes widened.

“Okay…” you said, breaking their moment. Trent’s brows furrowed looking at them with confusion. You both were a little confused when they made such a big plan to leave together.

“I haven’t been to Spain in ages. It’s nothing!” She poorly tried to defend herself. She didn’t need to defend herself to begin with but in any case she did it poorly.

“The entertainment continues…” You joked rolling your eyes at her. “Call me, okay?” Giving her a bone crushing hug. You were somewhat surprised at Marcel's indifference to Lauren at the moment but then again you didn’t really understand their whole thing from the start. I guess she was right, it was ‘all fine.’ You said your goodbyes to everyone else gradually and nestled into the back of the car with Trent. When you finally pulled down your drive Trent asked if you would go open the front door while he got the bags. You obliged and dragged your very tired body up to it. You made it inside and he followed. Even though it was a pet peeve of yours you just let Trent drop the bags at the front door, leaving them there for now.

“Baby…” you pouted your lips a little.

“Yeah?” He smiled but was equally as tired as you so it was soft.

“I’m glad we’re home…” You said walking towards him then running your hands over his chest dragging your nails along the fabric of his shirt.

“Me too.” He cooed, pressing a kiss on your neck. He always managed to find the most sensitive spot every time and it made your heart beat faster. You purred as his hands ghosted over your skin. The only thing in your mind at the moment was the feeling of his hands trailing down your back, squeezing your ass. He gripped underneath it lifting you up. You gasped a little and wrapped your legs around him. Your arms came to drape around his neck. Since the plane ride when he had his hands practically down your trousers you had built up a lot of need for him throughout the day. He walked you into your living room. He sat back down onto the couch. His legs wide and a glint in his eyes.

“I love you so much” you whispered close to his face. “I want to be close to you, T” You shifted in his hold, grinding down on his lap. He was perfect and you wanted him. You cupped his face and pulled his lips to yours as you straddled him. Any semblance of composure you had was gone as you moaned into his mouth the moment your lips pressed against each other. He tasted amazing, he always had such a sweet flavor to him. The kiss was passionate, hot, heavy, and moving towards messy. He pulled away for a torturous moment to pull his shirt off over his head. You lifted your arms and he dragged your shirt off after his. He slid his hands around your waist slowly and gripped your ass cheeks eliciting another moan from you. He stripped the remainder of your clothes and looked at you completely naked on top of him. He licked his lips before he dropped his head, leaning you back, putting his lips onto one of your tits. He grazed your nipple with his teeth before nibbling and sucking on it.

“T..” You moaned again feeling his lips on you as you arched your back. You leaned into him further pushing your pulsing core down onto his hard cock. He was the one moaning now at the sensation of your wet pussy on him. You could feel Trent get harder and harder underneath you.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so perfect. Your tits are so perfect. God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” He rambled lost, pulling away from your boobs for a moment mesmerized. He knew he was completely whipped. He was obsessed with you and definitely obsessed with your body. You continued to roll your hips down on him but allowed him to take control of you. You liked him to take control. Trent switched boobs, making sure to give each the same treatment. Moments like this felt like a dream, a fever dream, a fever dream you never ever wanted to wake up from. Not now, not ever.

“T, you’re so good. Oh my god. I love you. You feel so good.” You rambled just the same back. Your eyelids felt heavy. You smiled at him incredibly turned on. He looked at you and he thought he could cum just seeing the beautiful lustful expression on your face.

“No one else is ever allowed to touch you, baby. You’re fucking all mine.” You gasped at his possessiveness and the feeling of his cock abruptly sliding inside your wet pussy. You slowly but gradually sank down on Trent’s length. The sounds your slick made were so lewd, squelch after squelch. It was tedious and repetitive. You grinded forward rubbing your clit against him. Suddenly he spanked your ass hard and you felt yourself get much wetter. You could only nod your head at Trent’s statement. Your breaths were growing rapid. After tantalizing minutes, you started feeling your orgasm coming. The sound of his cock pulping in and out of you brought you that much closer to the edge. When he moved his thumb to play with your clit you could only feel pleasure, numb to everything else happening in the world except him; in front of you now. The pressure in your stomach started to build up. Your toes curled. His upwards thrusts started to falter, you rutting back and forth against him got sloppy. He stared up at you with dilated pupils sucking his teeth before you felt his cock twitch a little. “Want to get you pregnant, baby.” He begged into your ear. His raspy low voice sent pleasure coursing through your body. He knew the words would set you on fire. He leaned his face closer to you when his hands feverishly pulled you into a messy kiss. He pumped his cock into so deep your eyes began to water. You stared at him with so much love in your eyes, it felt like such an intimate moment. Trent felt the same. Like his cock, Trent felt his heart could burst at any moment. He loved you so much, loved you desperately.

“Want you to fill me up, T. Please please get me pregnant. Let me cum all over your cock while you cum inside me please.” You whined begging and babbling. Trent’s thrusts became erratic, both your highs approaching fast. Your eyes rolled back. Your legs spread on top of him were quivering.

“Oh fuck, baby. Holy shit. I’m gonna cum, baby. I love you fuck ffuck.” He stuttered as you squeezed his cock. He shuddered and you felt your pussy spasm around him. You dug your nails into his skin leaving little crescent marks on his tan body. He pumped you full of his cum, grunting. You clenched tighter taking every bit of him, so much you felt it oozing out of you. He thrusted a few more times slow and languid as you both finished. He laid his head on your tits tired. You were both exhausted, panting, he grabbed your body to be even closer together. You stayed clung to him for some time just happy in his embrace. Over an hour later though you found yourself still naked on the couch with him. You laid cuddled on his chest breathing a little better now. Your previously sweaty body stuck to his skin was starting to cool as his hands moved over your back drawing shapes. You nuzzled your face into the nape of his neck humming at his scent and warmth.

“I like this” Trent spoke softly and vaguely. You didn’t move your head, you just hummed again but with more of a curious tone so he answered you. “You… naked, in our home, alone, with me… I like it just like this.” He murmured quietly, placing a kiss in your hair. His hands moved a little slower up your spine. You couldn’t help but smile at how perfect he was. How safe he made you feel, how much better he had made your life.

“I love you.” You whispered into his skin.

“I love you more” he echoed you. His voice vibrated his chest a little beneath you. The sound of his voice lulled you into further bliss. He was your whole world. You moved ever so slightly to lay down, still on top of him but just a little more snuggly with your head on his chest tucked under a blanket. He held you in comfortable silence on the couch loving being back home with you.

“Are you happy, T?” You broke that silence. Trent closed his eyes softly smiling at your question. Sometimes he couldn’t wrap his head around how sweet you were. You asked questions so innocently when you genuinely wanted to know about something and it made his heart skip a beat. You were so kind and so perfect for him. He felt it the first time he met you that he just wanted to take care of you, protect you, love you. God, did he love you. He loved you so much it made him sick sometimes imagining that you both had lives without each other before.

“With you in my arms, absolutely.” He responded to you softly. You giggled a little, your cheeks filling and going a little pink. You nuzzled in a little further and he pulled you tighter to him, giving you another kiss.

“You’re cheesy.” You kept giggling. He loved to hear you laugh. The house was quiet and the sound of your bubbling laugh warmed his heart. He wanted this, this moment, this sound, this girl, this feeling forever.

“Honest too” he cooed back at you, pressing another kiss to you. He laughed a little, bringing his hand up your spine to the back of your neck. His hand wrapping under your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Are you happy?” He asked hesitantly because he was so happy in this moment he didn’t want to entertain the possibility that you weren’t feeling what he was but deep down he knew he made you as happy so he asked anyway.

“In your arms…” you teased, kissing his wrist. You fluttered your eyes open to look up at him through your eyelashes when he started moving you.

“Funny… C’mere” he rolled his eyes at you mocking him and rolled your body over as he sat up right, leaning back into the couch cushions. He pulled you to sit in between his legs, your back to his chest. You got more settled as he slipped his hands around your waist, his big hands coming to rub your stomach. He kissed behind your ear before he placed his chin on your shoulder. “You want a girl or boy?” He spoke quietly into your ear as you nestled back into him. Your hands over his on your stomach.

“Just a baby is good by me… I’d like to get there first.” You laughed a little at your own joke but hummed feeling his warm hands on you then again thinking about the sex you just had possibly leading to a baby.

“Yeah but I’m imagining it. What’d you call it? Manifesting, innit?” He talked a little faster now coming out of an orgasmic haze. You laughed at him trying to talk about manifestations when you had mentioned it maybe only once before. It was cute he listened so carefully though. He sat up a little further and pulled your body with him.

“Yeah, that’s it. Manifesting.” You giggled more. “I don’t care though ultimately but in any case I wouldn’t be upset if they looked just like you, pretty boy.” You cooed, bringing your hand up behind you to stroke his cheek.

“Oh Yeah?” He smiled flattered by your touch and your words. “I don’t know, baby, I think I want them to look mostly like you. You’re beautiful. I like your nose…” he thought a little more quietly. “I like your eyes…your… I like” he kept rambling random body parts as you started to feel more and more sleepy, you could only hear every couple words when his voice just started to fade out, your eyes closing. Trent wrapped his strong arms around you and held a kiss to your head as he held you tightly as the night crept in. Trent carried you upstairs sweetly. He tucked you into your bed gently before climbing in himself and pulling you into his embrace.

“So so perfect, baby. Want to have you forever” he whispered into your hair. “Love you so much” He continued through a yawn bringing your body tighter to his before he fell asleep with his head nestled in the nape of your neck.

You woke up when you heard Trent’s phone continually ringing on the bedside table. You pressed your lips to his bare chest trying to wake him up softly with a kiss.

“Baby?” You cooed, sliding your hand from its current place on his abs up towards his shoulders. Your hand squeezed him a little as you spoke again. “T, your phone.” He shifted a little beneath you and let out a moan but just pulled you closer to him not opening his eyes any. His phone rang again. The noise was starting to drive you crazy and it confused you how it didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. “Sleepy boy… can I at least see who it is?” He hummed a yeah.

“Just answer f’me, baby.” He moaned. You nodded and reached over him and grabbed his phone coming to lay on his chest again with the phone to your ear. You answered and it was Tyler. Suddenly the reminder of your sudden Instagram exposure pinged in your head.

“I’ll be there in like 15, alright?” Tyler's voice muffled through the speaker against your ear. Trent started to wake up, his hands inching down your body until he was palming your ass. Kneading it. His lips were on your neck. You lost track of any thoughts you had in your head. You let out a silent gasp when he nibbled a little on your neck.

“Hang up the phonnnee.” He groaned in an incredibly sexy morning voice. You heard Tyler say your name again through the phone when you didn’t respond.

“Yeah, yeah, see you then.” You barely got out the words in a squeaky voice flustered under Trent’s touch. You found yourself 30 minutes later heavily breathing under Trent. He had 5 missed calls from Tyler who was now unimpressed sitting at your kitchen island.

“Sorry, mate!” Trent said, jogging down the stairs, seeing Tyler slouched on his phone waiting impatiently.

“You’re not, but it’s all good, bro. You alright?” Tyler spoke, rolling his eyes, turning to see Trent pull a t-shirt over his head rushed as he came into the room.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Definitely good.” Trent cooed while walking around the island to the refrigerator with a silly smile on his face after his morning with you.

“Yeah? I’m sure.” Tyler quipped. “Y/N coming down? He asked looking at Trent who grabbed a water and was chugging it down. He gasped a little as he finished it

“Think so.” Trent said just as he saw you come gliding down the stairs. You smiled coyly and licked your lips seeing Trent in the kitchen send you a wink. You skipped into the kitchen wearing a shirt of Trent’s wrapping your arms around his waist. “Good morninggg.” He cooed as you looked up at him. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your forehead and you squinted your eyes at the wet feeling.

“I think you already said good morning.” You giggled, squeezing him a little tighter alluding to the fun you had after you hung up on Tyler before turning your head to him whose unimpressed face had yet to change.

“Yeah, gross. Erm… I would loved to ask about the trip but obviously we have to talk about the Instagram first. It’s not what any of us feel like doing this morning, I know that but…” Trent guided you back around the island to sit on the stools next to Tyler. “Good thing is… it really isn’t a big deal.” He said making you feel just a little better.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 26 xx

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #you’re mine fic #taa x reader

[cobrakaisb]

top gun: umich

summary: what if would be like to watch said movie with the umich guys

warnings: chaos, very brief spoilers (but nothing from the movie is mentioned except the football scene)

words: 645

“guys, what if we went to see top gun maverick? there’s one in like an hour,” you asked, scrolling through your phone. “i mean we could,” kent mumbled, leaning over your shoulder to look at your phone. “how many tickets are there? can we all fit?” nick asked. “uhm the entire theater is empty. we can definitely go,” you said, showing him the select your tickets screen, where every seat was empty. 

“alright let’s go,” he said, and everyone agreed. suddenly the whole group is walking out the door towards the movies. since there’s a theater ten minutes off campus, you guys just decided to walk. “i’m playing danger zone to get us in the mood,” you announced, queuing up the song. once the opening chords come in, everyone starts screaming the lyrics. 

finally, at the movies, nick and summers go to buy the tickets while everyone else goes to get snacks. “y/n what do you want?” brendan asked, pulling out his wallet to pay for your snacks. “um a cherry slushie please,” you responded with a big smile on your face. brendan nods, buying you the drink, handing it to you when the poor teenager running the concessions gives it to him. “alright let’s go or else we’ll miss the previews,” mark said, grabbing your hand as the two of you ran ahead to the theater. 

it turns out that you guys had the whole theater to yourselves because by the time the opening scenes come on, no one else is in the room. “is this the same scene from the 80s?” thomas shouts. “lame boo! tomato, tomato, tomato, throwing tomatoes!” brendan shouts, throwing some popcorn at the movie screen. “oh my god bren don’t embarrass us,” matty shouts, scolding his roommate. 

“guys stop look at tom cruise! isn’t he so fine?” you shout, pointing to the very attractive man on the screen. “he’s alright,” nolan answers, causing a loud gasp to come from your mouth. “take that back moyle!” you shouted, and more laughs echoed throughout the theater. the movie continues, you guys making comments every once in a while. then, the scene you’d been waiting for came on: them playing football. 

“oh my god she’s literally drooling!” kent shouted, pointing at you. “shut up kent! look at miles teller, he is doing god’s work with that mustache. what do you do? stick out your tongue when you score? yeah, mind your own business,” you snapped, eyes focusing back on the attractive man known as rooster in the movie. “damn kent. you got served,” luke observed. “yeah thanks hughes,” kent griped, arms crossed with a small pout on his face. 

“guys! nick is crying!” nolan shouted. “i am not,” came the captain’s very weak defense. “eddy is crying too!” “so are thom and brendan!” “add owen and kent to the listen!” “oh my god guys, y/n is sobbing what do i do?” mackie asked, a panicked look on his face.

“no way that plane flies!” steve shouted. “shut up steve it’s a movie,” jacob replied, knowing that he would go on a tangent that involved engineering concepts nobody but him understood. 

“how did tom cruise not die?” summers shouted. “ugh here we go!” micheal complained.  

finally, after two hours, the movie ended. “so did you like the movie y/n?” owen asked you left the theater. “hmm? yeah it was great. 10/10,” you mumbled, typing away on your phone. “what are you doing?” dylan asked, coming up next to you. before you could respond, the freshman snathced your phone. “oh my god! guys she’s looking up the nearest base!” he exposed you between wheezes. “how else am i going to find a miles teller? i need that this summer,” you explained, snatching your phone back. everyone laughed as you all left the theater to go home and debrief the movie.

#top gun x umich #umich hockey #nick blankenburg #nolan moyle #thomas bordeleau #brendan brisson #owen power #kent johnson #matty beniers #steve holtz #luke hughes #mark estapa #ethan edwards #mackie samoskevich #dylan duke #jack summers #jacob truscott #umich hockey imagine #umich hockey x reader

[stiles-banshees]

Good Things Come in Threes: Chapter Two

Summary: Growing up on the East Coast her whole life, Summer Hastings always longed for more. The niece of Penny Benjamin would often fly out to the West Coast every summer to visit her aunt and cousin. Summer didn't realize how much her life would change that night she called her aunt to book her plane ticket when she was 18 years old when a certain Jake Seresin answered the phone.

Series Masterlist

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Warnings: 18+, swearing

Word Count: 3k

The young women walked to the lounge in the middle of the compound carrying bagfuls of snacks and wet hair from their showers. The pair wore similar outfits since Summer was wearing Natasha’s clothes. They sported oversized navy tees (Nat in black, Summer in dark blue) and gray cotton shorts. The walk to the lounge had been relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the light chatter of the girls. The lounge is empty when the girls walk in, and Summer relaxes.

“Wanna watch the Outsiders?” Nat asked.

Summer hummed as she spread their snacks across the table in front of the couch. Nat took her time queuing the film. Summer sat on the couch and curled into herself when she felt a little chill.

“Blankets?” She asked.

“I’ll grab some from the drawer,” Nat pointed to a dresser set up in the corner. “Grab the headbands and facemasks?”

Summer fished their skincare essentials out of Nat’s bag, smiling when she realized Nat got her favorite brand. Nat threw a blanket to Summer before plopping herself down on the couch, putting a headband on, and then laying her head down in Summer’s lap. Summer carefully squeezed a bit of the facemask onto Nat’s forehead before using a brush to spread the product around.

“I missed this,” Nat sighed, closing her eyes while relaxing.

“You always loved being pampered,” Summer laughed, smearing some of the mask on her friend’s cheek.

“And now I have to deal with all those men.” Nat wrinkled her nose, causing Summer to lightly smack her arm.

“Bradley and Bob aren’t that bad.” Summer whispered, grinning as she thought of her other friends.

“No, but Hangman and Coyote are,” Nat assured.

“I thought you liked Javy?” Summer asked.

“He’s bearable when the blond idiot isn’t around,” Nat answered.

Natasha’s facemask has been fully applied, and Summer tapped her shoulder as a sign to sit up. Summer places her headband on her forehead before switching positions with her friend. She jumped when she felt the cool mask on her cheek.

“I’m definitely with you no matter what since you’re my friend and all, but why don’t you like Jake?” Summer asked her friend quietly.

“He’s just…not a good guy. I’m sure he has potential super deep down, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon, and that kind of scares me considering I might go on a mission with him.” Nat laughed uncomfortably.

“Is there any way I can help? Even if it’s just being there if you need me? I know I can’t come on the mission, but maybe I can help you feel less freaked out.” Summer offered.

“You’ve been a great help, actually. Hangman’s a bit more bearable this time around since he’s distracted by you.” Nat laughed again, and the discomfort disappeared as she smeared some facemask on Summer’s chin.

“Oh, just doing my civic duty.” Summer joked.

The girl’s laughter gets cut short when the door to the lounge opens, allowing Javy and Jake to walk in. The two were wearing sweatpants and their own Navy shirts.

“You gotta be shitting me,” Nat grumbled as she finished applying the pink paste to her friend’s forehead.

“Oh my god, are those Oreos?” Javy asked, snatching the package off the table.

Summer got up from Nat’s lap, pulling her legs under her.

“Coyote, Hangman, out,” Nat said as she snatched the pack of cookies from the intruders.

“The lounge is a common space, Phoenix.” Jake gave her a smug look.

“Fine,” The raven-haired woman groaned. “Just one rule; don’t eat all of our snacks. Ask first.” She said, looking directly at Javy.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake replied as Javy nodded.

The two men got comfortable on the floor in front of the couch. Javy sat in front of Nat while Jake was in front of Summer.

“I have two rules of my own if that’s okay?” Summer grinned, knowing her friend would love the second one.

“Whatcha got, sweetheart?” Jake asked as he turned to face the girl.

“Tonight, you’re all civilians. No callsigns; we’re using everyone’s names.” Summer eyed them all, knowing the importance of their callsigns in their work. 

“Easy,” Jake nodded to himself.

“Simple,” Nat agreed.

“Why?” Javy asked, regretting his question immediately when he saw his two coworkers glaring at him.

“And you guys have to participate in our girl’s night since you crashed. Facemasks and all,” She beamed at her friend.

Nat’s sour look twisted into an excited smile, “Yes!”

“Only if Summer helps me because I wouldn’t be surprised if you decide it’ll be fun if you shave one of my eyebrows off.” Jake glared at her.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Summer asked him.

“I’m hoping you’re in a good mood right now.” He said.

“As long as Jake’s the only one losing an eyebrow tonight. I don’t care.” Javy sighed, handing Nat a clean brush when she motioned for it.

Summer moved to the floor, motioning for Jake to move away from the coffee table as she grabbed another clean brush and her latte from her trip home. Jake followed and sat opposite her with his legs crossed. Summer watched as Javy moved to the couch to rest his head on Nat’s lap, and she smiled softly. Confused, Jake followed her gaze to the two pilots.

“Why are you staring at them?” Jake leaned in to whisper.

“They look cute.” Summer whispered back, still staring at the two.

Jake hummed, turning back to Summer and watching her dip the brush in the jar of pink gunk.

“What’s that supposed to do?” He asked as she painted a streak across his cheekbone.

“Well, it’s not gonna do much in one use, but it’s supposed to help your skin retain moisture. Considering this is probably the only time you’ll use this, it’ll make you smell like me a little until you shower tomorrow.” She said.

Good to know.

“So, is this why you always smell like roses?” He asked, eyeing the jar between their legs.

“That and my shampoo, body wash, and perfume. I like the scent if you couldn’t tell.” Summer laughed.

Jake kept his eyes trained on her face while she spread the paste around. He noticed the freckles peeking from under the mask, the small scar on her lip from biting it too much, and the little gold flecks in her brown eyes. Sure, Jake always thought Summer was pretty, but that was before she became a tangible thing in his life. He didn’t know it was possible, but Summer Hastings was somehow prettier in person.

“All done.” Summer smiled, cocking her head to the side while twisting the cap back onto the jar. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I thought Nat missed a spot. She didn’t.” The man lied, hoping the girl didn’t realize he was daydreaming about them together.

“Uh huh,” She said, unconvinced. “Nat, what’s next?” She turned to see her friend and Javy staring at them the same way she’d been staring at them.

“I would say we could talk about boys, but-” She started, but Javy interrupted her.

“I’m nosy. We’re dishing.” He said seriously.

Summer laughed at his outburst, and the duo made their way over to where she and Jake were sitting. Javy made sure to bring the Oreo’s and Nat brought over the two ice cream pints with spoons the girls had gotten a few hours ago. Summer popped the lid off hers and immediately dug her spoon into the peanut buttercup dessert.

“Well, we know there aren’t any guys for me right now.” Nat shrugged, eating a spoonful of her own ice cream.

“Right, totally.” Summer rolled her eyes at her friend.

Jake laughed at Summer’s pointed hint and positioned himself closer to her.

“What about you, Sum? Any cute aviators or civvies?” Nat teased.

Jake perked up a bit, hoping he was the only guy on Summer’s radar since she’s been in Miramar.

“Are there cute guys? Yes. Have I thought about approaching them? Of course. Will I do it? Absolutely not.” She said, taking a bite of ice cream.

“Why not?” Javy asked with a mouthful of Oreo.

“Cute guys freak me out.” She shrugged.

“Don’t kill me for exposing you, but you basically begged me to introduce you to Jake.” Nat reminded her.

“What?” Jake asked, and Javy started dying of laughter.

“Hey! That was when Jake and Hangman were two different people in my mind. Don’t hold that against me.” Summer whined.

“If you want anything, all you have to do is ask, baby.” Jake nudged her shoulder with his.

“You’re one of the girls tonight. Shut up.” Summer covered his mouth with her hand.

“Look, they’re fighting like a married couple already.” Javy cooed.

“Summer can do better than Jake, don’t make her settle.” Nat shook her head.

Summer dropped her hand from Jake’s mouth and grabbed Nat’s forearm instead.

“Calm down. Nothing’s happened.” Summer assured her friend.

“Yet,” Jake added, and the three others stared at him.

“What’s the deal between you two anyway?” Javy asked as he looked between them.

“What do you mean?” Jake asked his friend.

“You guys haven’t talked about it?” Nat asked as she ate another spoonful.

“You guys have a mission coming up. I didn’t think now was the right time to rehash old feelings.” Summer said awkwardly.

“Aren’t you scared?” Nat asked her quietly.

“Aren’t you against this?” Summer retorted.

“Oh, absolutely. I just feel like you guys should have the conversation.” Nat shrugged.

“Look at you, being all mature.” Jake grinned.

“Dude, it’s almost like you don’t want her blessing.” Javy cringed.

“I’m sure if Summer wanted to be with me, she’d disregard Nat’s perception of me.” Jake turned to see the girl next to him shaking her head.

“That’s not how this works.” Summer said.

“You’d sacrifice our happiness-your happiness for her?” Jake asked, completely taken aback.

“Jake, the thing is that I’m always going to be her maid of honor. And there are only so many ways when that can exist with you being the groom.” Nat explained.

“They’re right. That’s a thing in the girl world.” Javy nodded.

“So, if I have this right, you need her to like me so you can like me?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, exactly.” Summer nodded.

“Now, what if Bradshaw doesn’t like me?” He asked.

“See, that kinda makes it more fun,” Nat said.

“It makes it hotter.” Summer agreed.

“Well, how do you feel about me now?” He asked the two women.

“I still despise you.” Nat hummed.

“I’m actually kinda into you, but her hating you trumps that.” Summer shrugged.

“Goddamn it, Trace. You’re cockblocking me.” Jake groaned.

A laugh is shared between the other three.

“Nat, are you sure there’s no one you’re into?” Javy randomly asked.

“Oh, we’re doing this now?” Jake asked him.

“We’re figuring out your shit, might as well figure out mine.” He shrugged.

“Oh my god,” Summer gasped when she realized what was happening.

“Oh god, here we go,” Jake muttered.

“What’s going on?” Nat asked cluelessly.

“You’re not actually this dense, are you?” Jake eyed her.

“Keep this up, and you’ll never get to kiss Summer.” Nat threatened.

Jake nodded and motioned as if he was locking his mouth and throwing away a key. Summer watched in amusement, her cheeks turning pink underneath the mask.

“I think Jake and I are good to wash our faces, so we’ll be back in a few minutes.” She said. 

Summer pulled the aviator off the floor to follow her out of the lounge and to the communal bathroom.

“You just couldn’t wait to get me alone.” Jake’s chuckle echoed in the room as they passed the showers and to the sinks.

“Yeah, I brought you to the bathroom to make out.” She snorted as she rinsed off her facemask.

Jake followed her lead, rinsing his off as well.

“You don’t wanna make out with me in a bathroom? I’d make out with you anywhere if I’m being honest.” He said while accepting one of the washcloths she had snatched from the table before they left to dry his face.

“Pat dry, Jake.” She reminded him.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He retorted.

Summer pulled her headband off once her face was dry and ran her fingers through her hair to make it a little more presentable. Her freckles were now on full display, and Jake absolutely adored them. Jake balled the cloth up in his hand once his face was dry to stop himself from reaching out to her.

“Not while Nat still hates you.” Summer whispered, giving him a sad smile.

“Not even a pity peck?” He took a small step toward her, and now he could feel the heat radiating from her.

“Close your eyes,” Summer whispered again as her cheeks burned bright.

Jake does as he’s told for the first time ever. He felt Summer grab his hand that doesn’t have the washcloth. Jake felt the way her fingers anxiously slotted their way between his. He waited to feel pressure on his lips, but it didn’t come. Instead, Jake felt Summer press a kiss to his cheekbone. He opened his eyes when he heard her laugh.

“I’ll take what I can get,” The blond huffed.

“What about me?” Summer pouted.

“Summer, the first time I kiss you, I’m going for your mouth, not your cheek.” Jake laughed, pulling the short girl into a hug.

“This sucks.” She pulled him as close as possible, burying her head in his chest.

“You know, we could always kiss and not tell Trace.” He suggested.

“Or, if it gets super annoying, we could stage kiss.” She said, sounding muffled from his shirt.

“Gonna be honest, sweetheart, I have no idea what that is.” He laughed again, trying to pull her closer.

“Come on, Hangman. It’s when you put your thumbs on the other person’s mouth, and then you kiss your thumbs. You’re not that stupid, are you?” Bradley’s voice scared the both of them, and they jumped apart.

“Dammit, Bradshaw. We were having a moment.” Jake groaned.

“In the bathroom of a naval base. Classy.” Bradley joked.

“B, can you just leave? This is embarrassing enough.” Summer whined.

“I came in here to shower; you guys leave.” He pointed at the door.

“Gladly,” Jake said before pulling Summer out into the hallway.

The two awkwardly walk back to the lounge, only to find it empty besides the snacks from earlier and a little note on the table that reads Don’t wait up :).

“How is this fair? Trace can get some ass, but I can’t?” Jake groaned again as he plopped himself down on the couch.

Summer placed her melting ice cream back in the freezer before joining him, practically sitting on his lap.

“Hastings, what are you doing?” Jake asked.

“Can we cuddle? She didn’t say anything about touching.” Summer asked, anxiously biting her lip.

“Absolutely. Smart girl found a loophole.” Jake grinned, pressing his lips to her forehead.

The two settle on the couch. Jake’s lying on his back, and Summer’s on her stomach on top of him.

“What movie were you guys gonna watch?” He asked as he played with her hair.

“The Outsiders, I think, but it’s okay. I get to talk to you now.” She smiled.

“Maybe we can figure out our shit together without the peanut gallery.” He said raspily, and Summer really liked its raspiness.

“Alright,” She laughed. “What do you want, Seresin?” 

“Besides being together in general? I would love for us to be exclusive. We’d go out on dates and dread my inevitable deployments, but I’d always come back home to you. We’d get a dog, so you’re not alone while I’m gone. Getting married could be cool too, eventually, at least, and if you want to. Same with kids. I think it’d be fun to have a few minis of us. Nothing too major, just the fairytale thing most people dream about,” He shrugged.

“Do you have our entire lives planned out?” Summer stared at him with wide eyes.

“No. I’m just saying if I could choose how my life goes, that’s what I’d want.” He explained.

“You want a serious and monogamous relationship with me. And you want us to get married someday, and you want to get me pregnant?” She clarified.

“When you say it like that, I sound like a lunatic.” Jake squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s a bit crazy, but I get it. I used to have this whole vision about how we’d meet in person for the first time. It’s so embarrassing now, but it just felt right.” She said.

“Your turn to get mushy. Spill,” Jake squeezed her, urging her to go on.

“I would’ve loved to meet in person sooner, but now’s a good time too. I always imagined us having a little cat-and-mouse thing for a few months. Like, just enough tension for other people to notice, but not so much they’d say anything. Penny would lose her mind because I’m her only niece. Nat would act like she is now, but Bradley would be a little more skeptical since you’re older than me. You’d be obsessed with me, though. Not in a creepy way or anything, but anytime someone would think, ‘oh, where’s Jake?’ and someone else would say, ‘he’s probably with Summer.’” She placed her chin on his chest, locking eyes with the blond, and suddenly felt embarrassed.

“I know, it’s so bad.” She cringed.

“I think we can make that happen,” Jake suggested.

“Are you insane?” Summer’s eyes widened.

“The uranium mission’s in a few weeks, so we’ll have to speed up the process a bit, but I think we can make it work.” He nodded to himself as he crunched the numbers in his head.

“How much free time do you think you’ll have?” She laughed.

“I’ll make time if I have to,” Jake said. “We might have to start tomorrow afternoon, though. I think Javy and Nat are in her room tonight.”

“Dammit, now I have to sleep in here.” Summer pouted.

“Not necessarily,” Jake smirked.

-

Here is a link to my masterlist if you'd like to read any of my other writings or if you would like to send requests :)

#jake seresin x oc #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #hangman fic #hangman #hangman x oc

[bunkersandbeaches]

“What are you doing in my house!?” quizzed the intoxicated man as the the Uber driver tried to escort him from the vehicle to his house. “Go without me”, he remarked as the driver politely prompted him to get out of his car. Eventually he did and the Uber driver came to pick me up 15 minutes later than scheduled.

I put my suitcase into the boot and slammed it down. “Go careful mate” exclaimed the driver. I forgot how vulnerable Japanese cars can be. We made our way through South London towards East Croydon Station. Most of South London now has a 20mph speed restriction. “On this one occasion I will go faster” said the driver. I’m glad that he did otherwise I would have missed the 6:54am train. The maximum speed which we hit was 28mph, so it wasn’t such a crime.

I arrived at the station with 5 minutes to spare, closed the boot gently and made my way to platform 6. The train arrived on time and after a 30 minutes train journey I arrived at Gatwick Airport. I made my way though security, placing my suitcase in one container and my shoes, wallet and phone in another. I retrieved my suitcase easy enough, however the container with my shoes in it didn’t arrive. After 5 minutes I started to worry, after 10 I asked the security officer for help. She quickly pointed out that they were at the end of the conveyor belt. I was embarrassed, I was so tired, I must have missed them.

It was time to board my plane. There was no time for an obligatory Full English or coffee. I grabbed a sandwich and ran towards the boarding gate whilst shimming between kids and parents who struggled to walk in a straight line. I arrived at the gate just as boarding was about to begin. I made my way onto the plane and took my front row seat. As I adjusted my seat belt, the safety instructions recording began to play. First in English, followed by Albanian? A man ran down the plane and remarked “I don’t know what language this is, but it’s certainly not Albanian!”. The air stewardess smiled and politely said thank you.

The flight to Albania only took 2 hours and 20 mins thanks to a powerful tailwind. When the plane began to descend I was greeted with the familiar site of mountains covered in lush green vegetation. I was glad to be back to the Balkans.

As I disembarked the plane, the bliss Mediterranean heat hit me. I queued up in passport and was swiftly let into Albania. They did not stamp my passport, everything is automated. In fact you can enter via. automated gates using a UK passport. After my recent border experiences, I decided to enter the traditional way.

I exited the airport and made my way to towards the buses at the far end of the car park. I paid €4 and climbed aboard a beaten up old bus which was heading towards Tirana. Well, so the sign in the front said. The bus was crammed with passengers and there wasn’t much space to move. As we hit the main highway, I fell asleep. I woke up as we entered Tirana’s chaotic streets. The majority of the cars were German and it really fell as though the car was king in this city.

The bus dropped me off in Skanderbeg Square, the main centre of Tirana. Instantly, I got to see a few key tourism landmarks, The Palace of Culture, The National History Museum and not far away Bunk’Art 2. I had arrived.

#Tirana #europe #europe 2023 #travel #travel 2023

[hardlystrictlystarwars]

Waking up, Next to Peter

Masterlist || Tag list || Requests/Prompt sheet || Requests

Tom Holland!Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent/Mutant!F!Reader(Both readers are adults)

Waking up is hard, leaving Peter is even Harder. This fic strays from the MCU timeline(Tony Stark is still alive).

Warnings/Topics: Use of powers, mentions of sexual situations(if you interpret it that way), and some angst(let me know if there is anything else I missed. Also no spoilers for SM:NWH

A/N: So this is straying away from my typical star wars writing. But I recently saw Spider-Man:NWH and wanted to post some of my old writing from a blog I deleted a while while ago(Webs&Co).

Reblogs, comments and shares are always welcomed

The irritating sound of the alarm woke you up from your peaceful but rather too-short of a slumber. It was early in the morning, too early to be exact. The sun hadn’t even peaked out yet.

You knew the sound of your alarm meant Fury had queued another mission for you. While your job was way more exciting than sitting at a desk all day, it was hard to do it on three hours of sleep.

You sat yourself up, throwing your sheets off, careful not to hit Peter who was still softly snoring next to you.

Then you swung your legs around to hang off the side of your bed.

Your hand mindlessly waved at the motion detector that was sitting on your nightstand to quiet the alarm that had still been beeping.

You yawned with an open mouth as your hands started to sweep through your messages. Only pausing once. A message from Fury.

Opening the message there was no memo or note, just a file attached labeled Confidential: Winter Soldier Information Recovery. Another mission for Bucky. This time following a lead to uncover more of James’s past that he had forgotten while he was in HYDRA’s captivity.

Incoming Call: Director Fury

You audibly sighed reading his name but waved your hand to accept.

“Agent (Y/L/N),” Fury’s stern, no-bullshit face projected off the wall, “Are you up yet?”

His voice spit full with impatience and little compassion for how early it was.

“Yeah I’m up,” You rubbed your eyes and stretched out, still trying to not to bother Peter.

“I need you in DC,” His voice ordered. There was no budge in it for compromise.

“Yeah I’ll be there in four hours,” You sighed, calculating the time it would take you to get from your apartment in Queens to the Nation’s capital.

“I need you here in two,” He ordered, “Already got you a readied plane at JFK and there’s a car waiting outside your apartment to drop you off at the airport”

Without another word he ended the message.

You huffed in frustration. Going to DC meant you would be gone for at least a week, if not two.

“Fury has an interesting way of saying good morning,” Peter’s raspy morning voice said.

You turned around to face him. Seeing his eyes were still closed and his lower torso was still sloppily wrapped up in your sheets. You reached over and ran your hands through his tangled curls that were in desperate need of a shower.

You started to pull away, but his hand caught yours as it grazed his cheek. The look in his eyes, you knew he had heard the whole conversation. You knew the next words that were about to come out of his mouth, stay here. You knew he wanted it to stay like this forever.

But both of you knew that you would have to leave sooner rather than later.

“He’s my boss Peter, the Avengers don't pay me to stay in bed with you,” You tried to explain yourself before grabbing last-night’s pair of pants off the floor and shuffling them on. You the found the shirt you had discarded last night sitting on your nightstand.

“They should though,” Peter whispered in your ear as he sat up, his arms wrapping around you, preventing you from pulling down your shirt.

“Peter I have to get going,” You said, unwrapping his hands away from you and pulling on your shirt. You pushed yourself off your bed, your feet hitting the cold laminate floors, reminding you of how early in the morning it actually was.

“No, stay,” He muffled into your shoulder, rewrapping his arms around you.

“Peter, you’re gonna get me fired,” You tried to shake off his tight grip around you, a small giggle slipping from your lips. However, part of you knew it was useless to fight back. Your powers didn’t translate into any kind of physical power or vitality, while his superhuman strength and laser fast reflexes now binded your arms down as if they were toothpicks.

“That’s okay, the rest of the Avengers will understand,” He brushed off, pulling you back into your bed, “You are the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that?”

You were thankful it was still dark out as a smile crept onto your face. If Peter would have seen it, he would’ve never let you live it down. Any other morning you would’ve stayed with Peter, as he knew exactly how to keep you close.

His lips traveled down the back of your neck, your back to his chest. Occasionally he whispered how lucky he was to have you or exactly how much he loved you and You found it hard to protest against his words, as you could’ve easily been caught saying the same things if the situation was reversed.

His hands loosened up against your wrists and you turned over to face him. He lied flat down on your mattress and you lingered over him. His hands were quickly drawn to your waist like magnets.

Your lips connected with his. A slight sigh coming from Peter as your hands ran through his hair again. Your hand traveled down right over his temple.

“I love you Peter, but we’re going to have to continue this when I get home,” You whispered to him.

He paused, pulling back from your kiss. His eyes widened, knowing exactly what you were about to do.

“Sleep,” You said in a soft tone, a slight glow coming from the palm of your hand, resting over Peter’s temple.

His hands dropped from your waist and his eyes started to droop.

You almost smirked, pulling your hand off of him.

“You’re gonna get it when I wake up,” Peter teased in a drowsy voice. His eyes now struggling to stay open.

"I know," You kissed him one last time, “Goodnight lover boy,”

#spiderman fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker imagine #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #spiderman x reader #marvel fic #spiderman x you #spider man x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n #marvel cinematic universe #my writing

[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie. 

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake. 

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim. 

You were fuckin’ dumb. 

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar. 

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self. 

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing. 

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret. 

You had to check on Steve. 

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him. 

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian. 

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here. 

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought. 

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response. 

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason. 

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?” 

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed. 

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second. 

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again. 

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive. 

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with. 

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you. 

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more. 

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know. 

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one. 

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink. 

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months. 

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance. 

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing. 

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds. 

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired. 

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out. 

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone. 

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.” 

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own. 

How was he so goddamn warm? 

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N. 

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art. 

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully. 

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy...  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.” 

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit. 

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach. 

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve... 

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint. 

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance. 

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own. 

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew. 

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser. 

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it. 

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding. 

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime. 

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia. 

This had definitely not been a mistake. 

Part Two

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #pedro pascal x reader #I LOVE THE BLACK FUCKING SHIRT #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #murphy!reader

[apethalibut]

What's the point of going abroad if you’re just going to be treated like a sheep? Carted around in buses surrounded by sweaty mindless oafs from Kettering and Boventry in their bloth baps and their bardigans and their transistor radios, bomplaining about the tea - "Oh they don't make it properly, do they" - and stopping at endless Majorcan bodegas selling fish and chips and Watney's Red Barrel and calamari's and two veg and sitting in their cotton sun frocks squirting Timothy White's sun cream all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh 'cos they "overdid it on the first day."And being herded into endless Hotel Miramars and Bellvueses and Bontinentales with their international luxury modern roomettes and swimming pools full of draft Red Barrell and fat German businessmen pretending to be acrobats and forming pyramids and frightening the children and barging into the queues and if you're not at your table spot on seven you miss the bowl of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup, the first item on the menu of International Cuisine, and every Thursday night there’s bloody cabaret in the bar, featuring some tiny emaciated dago with nine-inch hips and some fat bloated tart with her hair brylcreemed down and a big arse presenting Flamenco for Foreigners. And adenoidal typists from Birmingham with flabby white legs and diarrhea trying to pick up hairy bandy-legged wop waiters called Manuel and once a week there's an excursion to the local Roman Remains where you can buy cherryade and melted ice cream and bleeding Watney's Red Barrel and one night they take you to a typical restaurant with local atmosphere and color and you sit next to a party of people from Rhyl who keep singing "I love the Costa Brava, I love the Costa Brava," you get cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an Instamatic camera and last Tuesday's Daily Express and he drones on and on about how Mr. Smith should be running this country and how many languages Margaret Powell can speak and then she throws up all over the Cuba Libres. And spending four days on the tarmac at Luton airport on a five-day package tour with nothing to eat but dried British Airway type sandwiches and you can't even get a glass of Watney's Red Barrel because you're still in England and the bloody bar closes every time you're thirsty and the kids are crying and vomiting and breaking the plastic ash-trays and they keep telling you it'll only be another hour, but you know damn well your plane is still in Iceland... shut up and has to take some Swedes to Yugoslavia before it can load you up at 3 a.m. in the morning and then you sit on the tarmac four four hours because of "unforeseen difficulties", i.e. the permanent strike of Air Traffic Control over Paris - and when you finally get to Malaga airport everybody's queuing for the bloody toilets and queuing for the bloody armed customs officers, and queuing for the bloody bus that isn't there waiting to take you to the hotel that hasn't yet been built. And when you finally get to the half-built Algerian ruin called the Hotel del Sol by paying half your holiday money to a licensed bandit in a taxi there's no water in the pool, there's no water in the bog, there's no water in the taps, there's only a bleeding lizard in the bidet. And half the rooms are double booked and you can't sleep anyway because of the permanent twenty-four-hour drilling of the foundations of the hotel next door - meanwhile the Spanish National Tourist Board promises you that the raging cholera epidemic is merely a mild outbreak of Spanish tummy, rather like the previous outbreak in 1660 the bloody rats are dying from it - and meanwhile the bloody Guardia are busy arresting sixteen-year-olds for kissing in the streets then on the last day in the airport lounge everybody's buying little awful horrid donkeys with their names on and bullfight posters with their own names on, like “Antonio Ordoney and Mr. Brian Pules of Norwich" and then finally when you get to bloody Luton the...

#monty python #travel agent #eric idle #updated #hollywood bowl #op #text

[busycryin]

REPOST - THE NIGHT WE MET

THE NIGHT WE MET

PART ONE - THE NIGHT WE MET

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: You decide to travel to Colombia on a whim, there you meet a gorgeous stranger that just so happens to be your brothers partner. 

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

Anon was worried about losing my work when I switched blogs, so fear not. I’m reposting on here but I have no intention of deleting my other blog, it’s where I got my first 200 notes and I’m honestly blown away by it. I’m happy to announce I’m working on a fourth part. I’m not sure when I’ll post it as I’m still in the idea stage but it’s definitely a start, ay!

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you’d like to see anything in particular. If it’s in my wheelhouse, you’ll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin’ airline ticket. You had attempted to grab your crappy life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentary bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into one of your full scale panic attacks if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn’t have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn’t there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother’s address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands, you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo… español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi…Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda… does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it’s a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man… Good to know.

…

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now… You’ve got a guest…. No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother’s partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another’s company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner’s sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it’s a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman’s tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman’s words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son… I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man’s elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia… Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it’s probably ‘cause he’s busy…  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning.“

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier’s hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother’s partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve…

“… This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throat your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man’s hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“…Is Steve okay?”

“…No… He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve’s voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “…what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it’s not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

#pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #repost #narcos fanfiction

[mellowswriting]

Heaven

pairing || Marcus Pike x Reader

summary || Marcus comes home to his wife and son and can’t believe how lucky he is

word count || 1,390

warnings || pregnancy and labor mentions

a/n || Dad!Marcus has me so soft and in absolute love, I could die rn. Enjoy this barely edited, borderline incoherent mess of domesticity and love

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

Marcus couldn’t wait to get home. Each day the moment four o’clock rolled around, he shoved his paperwork into his bag and practically bolted for the door. It had become routine for him in the past two years. Ever since he moved in with the love of his life, ever since he had someone waiting for him with open arms in the warmth of their home. His excitement had become a sort of a joke around the office - his coworkers could almost countdown the seconds before his office door opened and he speed-walked to the elevator with a soft, goofy smile on his face. They were happy for him, of course, but they ribbed him for it anyway. That excitement only grew in the last few months, ever since the two of you brought home the tiny baby boy you had been expecting. Marcus had taken to fatherhood like a fish to water. Sure, he was exhausted but his life was full. This was how he had imagined his future - a wife that he adored and who adored him, kids, a home. But god was it even better than he ever thought it could be. 

The front door opened slow and quietly, a habit he had gotten into after the first time he came bounding in and woke up his son, earning an almost terrifying look from you. With his shoes toed off and his keys set on their hook, Marcus went into the living room, surprised that you weren’t curled up on the couch with your son like usual. He perked up when he heard your voice from the kitchen, too low to make out what you were saying. The sight of you in the low light quietly singing to his child cradled against your chest...he almost had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. You had your cheek pressed to the top of his head, eyes closed as you swayed. 

Marcus leaned against the entryway of the kitchen with a soft expression, not wanting to interrupt the sweet moment between the two of you. You had been an absolute goddess through it all - pregnancy, labor, wading into the depths of new parent life. You held him in the dark of night when he whispered his fears to you, that he wouldn’t be a good father, that his child would grow to resent him. The gentle way you confessed your own fears, that you would somehow mess up the sweet boy growing inside you. The way you calmly and easily dismantled his worries as you rubbed his hand where it was pressed to your belly. The way you melted into him when he did the same for you. The strength and resolve you held throughout your labor, even if you did almost break his hand in the process. Your headstrong resolve as you worked through the struggles of breastfeeding for the first time. Marcus never thought he could love you more than he already did but you proved him wrong. Every new day of your journey together into parenthood proved him wrong. 

You gave him so much more than he ever thought he could have. His son was beautiful, his home was full of warmth and laughter, and his heart overflowed with the affection you gave him. Marcus had no idea how the hell you managed it all, taking care of his child and his home, giving him everything he could ever want. Once you had told him that he was what fueled you. His praise, his reassurance. He listened to your fears and your anger, he kept you from spiraling when it all became too much. Marcus loved you. He loved the life you had built together, so much that it almost drowned him. 

The overflowing emotion in his chest made him completely miss that you were giving him a mirrored look of affection that stole the very air from his lungs. He pushed himself off the wall and settled his hand on his son’s back, marveling at the way his mouth formed a little ‘o’ as stared up at his mother. Everything this kid did just amazed him, every smile, every burp, every time he met his father’s eyes. How had he gotten so damn lucky?

“How was your day, sweetheart?” You asked, your voice low and rumbly in the most delicious way. 

“It was good. Missed you two so much, though.” Marcus said before pressing a kiss to his son’s head and then to your lips. “How was everything here? Did Oliver eat well today?”

You hummed an affirmative as you kissed him again. Marcus smiled into you, his hand cupping your cheek to angle you and pull you closer. A sudden wriggle between the two of you had Marcus pulling back to coo down at Oliver, who seemed to finally realize his father was home. The sound of the oven beeping almost had Marcus pulling away from his move to hold his son but you stopped him and settled the squirming baby in his arms. 

“Honey, let me get it. You’ve been doing this all day, you deserve a break.” Marcus tried but you hushed him. 

“Ollie missed his daddy and I know you want cuddle time.” You slid on the oven mitts and pulled a steaming pan from the oven, smiling at the excited noise Marcus made. “I know, I know. You don’t want me worrying about dinner and all that, but I had the urge to make lasagna.” 

“God, I love you.” Marcus whispered as he pulled you close by your hip and planted his lips to yours excitedly. There was nothing you loved more than the sight of your husband cradling Oliver in one arm. The fact that he had his other arm around you made it all the better. 

“I love you, too, Marcus.” You pecked his lips over and over in rapid succession, before pulling away to get plates down. 

After dinner was eaten and Oliver was fed, Marcus tutted you away from the sink to wash the dishes as you put your son down for the night. It was a godsend that he was mostly sleeping through the night now, giving you much needed time with his father. You were already in bed with a book in your hands when Marcus came upstairs and he checked the baby monitor before sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Really, another romance novel?” Marcus let out a surprised chuckle when you smacked it against his chest lightly, his hands going up in surrender. “Ah, okay! I won’t make fun of your weird novel choices again, I promise!”

“Mhmm,” You hummed as you plopped the book on your nightstand before turning to pout at him. “C’mon, I want to cuddle you.”

Warmth bloomed in Marcus’s chest and flooded through his entire body and he immediately stripped down to his boxers and white undershirt. He pulled the blankets back and slid in next to you, a happy sigh escaping you both as you settled your head against his chest. Marcus queued up the latest episodes of the show you were binging together, trying not to shiver under the way your fingers traced random patterns against his chest. He dropped the remote to settle his hand against your thigh that you settled across his lap and rub up and down your bare skin in languid strokes. This was peace, utter heaven. 

“You can’t see the TV when you lay like this, silly.” Marcus said softly, gazing down at you with a look that made you smile. 

“I prefer this view.” You said simply and leaned up to kiss him.

“How did I get so lucky?” Marcus whispered against your lips, his brows furrowed over his tightly closed eyes. 

You rubbed at the crease between his brows with your thumb. “We’re both lucky, my love. Now go on and watch your show so I can enjoy my view.”

Marcus let out a sharp laugh but did just that, a light flush to his cheeks under your loving gaze that only intensified when you trailed your fingers over the planes of his face. He took your hand in his, placed a kiss to the middle of your palm, and let you continue your gentle touches. 

Yeah, he decided. This was heaven.

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x y/n #marcus pike the mentalist #the mentalist #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[hooniee]

 — ꒰‧⁺paris run away  *ೃ༄

↷ heeseung x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷genre: fluff | comdey ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ warnings: not proofread | none! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ synopsis: (y/n) just graduates from high school and feel incomplete but doesn’t know what’s missing. a trip to paris might be able to fix that ⋯ ♡ᵎ 

↷ author note: this is @enhypenwriters​ event of the month! strangers to lovers <3 i think this was my favorite to write out of the three pieces but i feel like it’s lacking some flare :( i think it still turned out okay though. i hope you enjoy <3 ⋯ ♡ᵎ

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

you should have listened to sunoo when he said that it wasn't a good plan to travel to a foreign country on impulse.

you wouldn’t say you’ve ever been the most courageous person in your life. determined to break that trend, you planned this super out of the blue trip without much thought.

yeah. maybe this was a bit TOO courageous.

you didn't comprehend what compelled you yet here you were, arriving at paris charles de gaulle airport.

you stared at the large windows of the airport, viewing the plane that you had just left.

the gate for the concluding passengers had been locked by the flight stewardesses.

one of the stewardesses obtained eye contact with you, before shooting a smile and lightly bowing her head.

you absentmindedly returned the gesture, mind elsewhere.

bustling throughout the airport were people hurrying to their connecting flight or slumping into their lover's arms

people carried two or more suitcases with various bags strapped on their bodies, nothing on you besides a petite sling purse and one small carry on suitcase.

as weaved your way through the mass of stressed travelers, you briefly thought to yourself

how the hell did you get here?

2 days earlier

clusters of kids outfitted in blue gowns and caps could be recognized a mile away.

the graduation from high school to university.

your friend minji encloses her arm around your shoulder, your arm resting on her waist.

minji’s mom was stood in front of the both of you, gesturing wildly as she tried to take the ‘perfect graduation photo’ as she had put it

"okay pose! get a little closer, perfect. 1, 2, 3"  your friend's mom counts.

the camera shudders which creates a beaming light to flash, eyes faintly twitching.

shrieks could be heard throughout the campus as girls queued up to take their final photographs with the popular guys.

minji's mom draws back the camera and we check the picture.

"it's cute," minji exclaims, peering at it a bit more closer. you nod your head in approval.

you would miss minji, one of the friends you could constantly count on in math class when you neglected to do your homework from binging korean dramas.

"i'll send you the picture later (y/n)! don't forget about me alright? you have my socials and you can always talk to me," minji grasps your hands

you smile, feeling sad at the departure of your best friend, "of course minji, don't forget me either"

"i could never," she brings you into a secure hug.

"sweet pea perfume," you say and she chuckles. sweat pea was minji's preferred perfume and you would miss that aroma.

"i have to go now, but i'll see you around okay?" minji says.

you could notice tears well up in her eyes and she fans her eyes to prevent the tears.

"don't cry ji, i'll start crying," you joked. "i live near here and you can always visit me! my door will always be open."

she smiled, "the same goes for you." her mother shouts her name before she has to go.

"alright, see you around," you wave to her as she leaves.

on the opposite side of the garden, your mom signals to you with your bouquet of red roses in hand.

"are you ready honey?" she asks you and you smile, nodding your head.

the car ride was in pleasant quietness, light radio music fluttering in. you had taken off your cap and laid it in the car seat next to you accompanying with your bouquet. 

you had glimpsed outside to see your campus still arranged with your classmates, beaming and posing for additional pictures.

you bitterly smiled. 

for the first time, graduation didn't appear like one of those liberating scenes of a movie,

1 day ago

you sprawled on his bed, staring straight up. a fan in your hand, fanning the perspiration that threatened to come.

your eyes match the fan's speed directly above your neighbor and best friend, sunoo's, bed.

his air conditioner was broken. with the avail of those elementary paper fans and the only fan stationed in the house, you were able to find comfort

you questioned if he ever got frightened of it dropping on him when he slept.

sunoo occupies the bathroom that's joined to his room, applying some light powder.

your mind strays, more thoughts simmering in the back of your brain. you sigh for the 10th time and sunoo being exasperated, allows out a loud groan. 

it draws you out of your daze and you snap your head towards him."

"what is with you? what is on your mind sunshine?" he shuts his cushion, flinging himself on the bed.

"are you ever scared of the fan falling on you?" you felt the bed dip

"no, it's been like that for years, and don't change the subject. what's wrong?" sunoo retorted 

"what makes you say that? i'm fine, " you answer

"uh-huh," sunoo rolls his eyes

it's the blatant eye-roll rather than the hushed one, he implied business

"you've been sighing for the past ten minutes, spill," sunoo says

of course, sunoo could recognize your distress. what sort of best friend would he be if he couldn't distinguish your emotions?

you huff, " okay then"

"i don't know why but i just feel stuck? i just graduated high school and nothing feels different, i mean it doesn't have to, but what do i do now? maybe i just watched too many movies"

sunoo tsked, " (y/n). sweetie, i graduated last year and i'm still stuck here. i do nothing besides go out or stay in my room. no in-between."

"but you have something sunoo. you have a bunch of your friends, you're an instagram star and i don't know, it's just different, "

it was accurate, sunoo was extremely popular. he had a bunch of friends and acquaintances from being the vice president. 

sunoo inflated up on social media for his content from makeup to dance practices, a versatile instagram star.

you conceal your face with your hands before emitting a loud groan.

sunoo remarks, "i don't know how i can help you (y/n)? maybe you should try to rest a bit"

"easy for you to say, you, who isn’t dealing with a mid-life crisis, " you whine.

"this isn't a mid-life crisis, this is a post-graduation crisis which is totally normal. how about going out of town? obviously not to paris or whatever but maybe, what was her name again? minjoo's town!" sunoo suggested.

"obviously not to paris"

"not to paris"

"to paris"

"paris"

what about paris? paris was considerably away from your town and had a ring on the tip of your tongue. 

you had sprung up, grasping sunoo by the shoulder and shaking him, "you're a genius sunoo! paris is a genius idea."

sunoo's eyes widen and he shakes his head while attempting to pry your hands off of him.

"no, you have to think rationally-"

you released sunoo from your hold which let him stabilize his spinning head.

"and i am! i need something new. being in this town for my whole life makes me realize, maybe i just need a spontaneous trip. "

your words scarcely blur together, adrenaline rushing through your blood as you understood this could jolt you out of your post-graduation slump.

"but-"

"no buts! pass me my laptop,"

present-day

you are currently disliking your choice, anxiety rushing through your veins, but it's too overdue to have other opinions.

you had landed in france and this was a life-altering moment; a chance of a lifetime.

peering nearby, you squint at the tiny english translations of the signs. you pull out your phone.

you open up the camera to see if zooming in would improve it for your eyes. as if on cue, your stomach rumbles vaguely making you startled.

you panicked as the pocket that was previously supplied with snacks became loaded with empty wrappers.

maybe if you would be lost in this wonderful city, you might as well try some of their famous pastries.

your muscles had retracted, the result of finally getting some movement after being restrained in a metal machine that was adjacent to the fiery sun.

you stumbled across this petite bakery and enter, sparingly bowing your head. 

the owner was an older lady with her greying hair that designed it to resemble ashy highlights, pulled into a loose bun.

"que puis-je vous offrir?" she smiles.

"i'm sorry, i don't speak french?" you admit, embarrassed

as much as you assumed duolingo and rosetta stone could benefit you on a flight to paris, the only thing you could accomplish to say without messing up is "bonjour"

"that's fine mademoiselle! what can i offer you?" the lady shifts to englsih

you let out a sigh of relief, appreciative for blundering into this bakery.

"may i have your most popular pastry to go and a water bottle?" you smile, fishing out some euros.

you had looked down to the currency that you had exchanged before embarking on the plane.

"of course mademoiselle!" she says, reaching behind the counter and with her gloved hand, seizing a chocolate croissant.

"that will be 4.12 euros!" she rings you up in the cashier.

"is this the right amount? i'm not very good at counting euros," you revealed your hand where the money was.

she nodded her head and took the money, printing your receipt out. before giving you your receipt, she interviews you with a question that you weren't confident in answering"

"if you don't mind me asking, why are you here in france? not to sound rude! but i'm just curious"

you softly smile, sensing the kindness illuminating from her tone of voice. she wasn't rude at all and she was asking a simple question, but your brain struggled to obtain an answer.

"well, i would say i'm here to explore?  i just finished high school and life felt incomplete. my best friend jokingly said "go to paris" and so I booked a ticket."

you look back up at her to see her delicate gaze. the rustling of the paper bag stopped the moment of silence

"that's amazing mademoiselle! france is the city for that. you must visit the notre-dam cathedral while you're here, it's beautiful. and maybe even find some love?"

she winks at you and you engage with a small giggle.

just like the show "emily in paris," you could merely fantasize about living a life like hers but it was an altered universe. she was an employed woman and you; a fresh graduate from high school.

"maybe! but i'm not looking forward to dating right now"

it wasn't a lie nor the truth. you would love to date someone right now but dating someone from a foreign country with a language barrier? not the most desirable idea. the owner laughs, handing you your pastry and water bottle.

"thank you for dropping by here mademoiselle! please enjoy your time in france,"

"merci beaucoup" you stumbled out, providing a small wave out.

the airport seemed to be more crowded than before. slowly opening the wrapping, you take a bite of the chocolate croissant and let out an audible gasp.

unquestionably, one of the greatest pastries you have tried in your life.

you promptly pull out your phone, snapping a picture for your instagram story. it was an adorable picture with the bakery in the background with the chocolate croissant in hand.

with "just landed" as your caption, you posted it to your close friends story. almost a second later, sunoo request to video call you.

you were welcomed by a piercing shriek into the phone.

"YAH I WAS JUST GREETED BY YOUR PARENTS WHO SAID YOU WERE AT A SLEEPOVER FOR A COUPLE DAYS? SLEEPOVER MY FOOT? YOU'RE IN PARIS-" 

sunoo screeches over the phone and you timidly grimace, turning down the volume as people begin to stare.

"sunoo, i'm currently in a public airport with no earbuds plugged in, can you please STOP screaming?" you whispered audibly to him.

"OH, I FORG- sorry," sunoo sheepishly responds.

"my parents would never let me go this far so i just had to lie that i was going to a sleepover at minji's house which is out of town. plus i'm only going to be here for two days," you consult him.

"you saw me buy the tickets sunoo. why are you scolding me now? shouldn't you have tried to stop me while i was in the middle of buying the tickets?" you added.

"well now i want you to come back, who am i supposed to hang out with for the next 2 days?" 

though it was dark in the setting sunoo was in, you could practically see his pouting face.

"you could hang out with jake? or sunghoon? aren't they both your friends?"

jake and sunghoon went to the same school as sunoo and you're buddies with them. you've known each other since middle school but jake and sunghoon were always closer to each other just like you and sunoo.

"jake and sunghoon hyung are busy on a vacation together in the bahamas"

you stifled a laugh in, "good luck being alone for the next two days."

"not funny (y/n)! besides that point, what if you get caught?"

"don't worry, i won't get caught because you're the only one who knows about this .as long as you don't rat me out sunoo," you scowl at him.

"i won't, i won't, i promise but you have to buy me something? deal?”

you roll your eyes, "deal mr. sunoo-shi, i have to go now. i need to try to find my hotel"

"be safe, love you!"

"i will! love you too"

you sulk after the call ends. without your best friend on your side, you felt a little feeble and lost but it's not time to be pondering like that. 

paris awaits and you couldn't linger at the airport the whole day.

first challenge 

getting to your hotel was a struggling. wandering around a city with no basis of the language besides "hello" and "thank you so much", didn't do enough for you.

first, you had to find a taxi that could converse in english. most people had turned you down as you couldn't speak french.

thankfully, it was a fortunate day and you met this kind lady who had coffee-colored curly locks, gentle chocolate eyes, and light freckles scattered around her face.

"do you speak english?" you crisscrossed your fingers, your legs close to giving out after scrambling for taxi drivers

"yeah, i do mademoiselle! would you like to hop in?" she extended a friendly smile and you had never felt bricks lift off your chest faster.

she opened the back of the taxi and you scouted in, permitting your purse to lay on your lap.

the women examined both directions of the road, looking out for passing cars and entered the driver's seat.

"where are you heading mademoiselle?"

you swiftly pull out your phone to your notes, "hotel le walt paris?"

you corked your eyebrow, making sure it was the right name before she nodded her head. 

"a very famous hotel huh? right near the eiffel tower. i recommend that you wait till it gets dark and sit on the balcony to see the eiffel tower with lights. it's beautiful"

you smiled at the kind words of the lady, "i will surely try that! thank you miss..?"

"elena! elena is fine and you mademoiselle?"

"i'm (y/n)"

"it's nice to meet you"

"likewise"

the entire ride, you felt at some peace finally conversing with someone who understood english,

 after a 30 minute drive, you had arrived at your destination.

feeling a sad departure from this mellow woman, who turned out to be 19 seeking to make some pocket money in the summer, she was one of the first people that you had grown connected with throughout this ride.

"elena, though it was a short time, thank you for keeping company"

you present her with a warm smile as she unlocks the door for you. you exit the taxi, clasping at your phone.

"here, give me your phone."

you softly planted it in elena's hand. you were perplexed about why she showed you your home screen until you realized you had a password.

you enter your password, giving it back to her. she did a bit of clicking and you could see her hands typing something in before returning the phone back to you.

"that's my instagram, stay in contact with me alright?"

you felt the sides of your lips curve into a slight smile. you dragged her into a soft hug.

"thank you elena"

she visibly hesitant before easing into the hug. she softly rubbed your back.

"i have to go, i might get fired if i stay here too long"

you bided her a fare-well. thirty minutes was an extended time to get a know a person.

and that was the first friend you met in france.

second challenge

checking into your hotel wasn't as difficult. most people could speak english and besides the uncanny looks that you received from the clerk, check-in was pretty smooth.

"here you are mademoiselle" the bellman lowers your suitcase in front of your hotel door.

"merci beaucoup,"  you smile and he returns the gesture before leaving you.

you look down in your hand where you are grasping the card tightly. you scan the card against the door meter and it flickers twice. 

red, green

the door clicks before you push on it and reveal your hotel room.

at first glance, your mouth dropped.

the hotel room seemed better than it did on the online photographs which was a rare possibility.

though it was a small room, it was renovated beautifully.

overhead the king-sized bed, there was an extensive painting of the eiffel tower. a blue chair that held a place directly by the bed along with a little wooden table.

the hotel was fine but you definitely weren't

"(y/n) shut down in,"

"3"

"2"

"1"

before thinking, you throw yourself on the bed having the jet-lag kicking in. the bag offers a 'thump' sound as it connects with the ground.

'ouch that hurt'

you fish through your pocket, pulling out your phone. it was hardly twelve pm and you were already fatigued.

what was your strategy? you were in france for two days and you don't have a plan to do anything.

first things first, you needed to sort out this jet-lag.

 1) taking a shower

showers are always a great way to awaken and could shake you from this daze. you endured a scream as your water turned to be ice cold. someone must be utilizing the hot water. that shower unmistakably woke you up

2) skincare

after getting out of the shower, skincare was the secondary way to wake up. cleansing with toner, dropping essence into the skin, and implementing a nice coat of moisturizer to lock-in.

3) fueling with food

food can beat anybody out of slumber if they're fueled with enthusiasm but you didn't have any food on you? that indicates it's time to go out and explore france.

unfastening up your suitcase, you drabble on what you can wear.

reconciling with a simple pair of denim shorts and a light pink tank top, you catch a fast mirror selfie.

being content with the ultimate product, you smile to yourself.

"phone, key, wallet," you whispered, securing the thoughts of having everything. 

everything was arranged to go and it was time to tour paris.

third challenge 

cruising through paris would be by notably the toughest challenge while you were here.

you had your phone to navigate solely with wifi and you couldn't be that favorable to be able to meet people who could speak english all the time. 

you had entered a small restaurant, where you worked to communicate with people in defective french but they moderately understood what you wanted.

after that fiasco trying to order a chicken frricassee, you were able to appreciate your time there along with sending a picture to sunoo who reacted with,

"can that be the souvenir you bring back to me TT?"

you chuckled at the message, knowing typical sunoo, and finished up eating.

eating wasn't the one exclusive thing available in france. there were various activities but you were too afraid to venture any future for the hotel. getting lost too was easy.

that being said, eating after eating all you could do was roam around the city. it was around 2pm and you could spot a diverse crowd of people.

you could see kids. in uniforms that just got out of school or a cute couple that was experiencing their date.

you slightly squint and cover your eyes as the sun is at its highest point.

yes, paris was lovely and you would prefer to travel more but but you didn’ toriginally have a plan

for a couple of hours, you completed wandering around the area where your hotel is. you wished at moments like this that you would have jungwon, sunoo's friend, with you to help navigate you.

 jungwon was also a friend you guys met in middle school but he went to your school. very mature for his age and great at preparation.

before you knew it, the sun had died down and it was time to retreat to the hotel.

'ah right! elena told me to look out at the eiffel tower as it gets darker'

you softly tread back to your hotel, observing the blisters at the back of your foot.

you could clearly sense the entire day of walking take a toll on your body.

you scan your key card and fling your bag to the floor as soon as you get inside. you open up your suitcase to change into suitable sleeping clothes.

you briskly cleansed your face and tied your hair back.

you had approached the balcony, guessing how to cautiously open the glass door.

you gradually shift the handle to the right and the door made a scanty creek. you gingerly put more stress on it, opening the balcony wide.

a distinct gasp could be heard from you.

subsequently taking a step onto your balcony, the frail breeze made you quiver in the long black tee that adorned your top half and the sweatpants that settled on your waist.

the balcony was small, barely able to move besides staying still.

you had peered to your right, glancing at the eiffel tower.

elena was correct. the eiffel tower was breath-taking at night. for the first time when landing in france, you could feel in harmony. below you was a crowded street.

it was only 8 pm yet you could feel your eyes droop as opposed to the bouncy pair of kids that ran through the moobs of people.

the radiant yellowish glow of the eiffel tower was able to save you from dozing off. you softly hum 'fly me to the moon,'

'fly me to the moon,' didn't have significance, it felt appropriate in the second.

you hadn't regarded it but a figure had gently peeked out of the other balcony, attentively listening to the silky melody that you were humming.

"nice song"

a voice interrupts and your humming had come to a halt, eyes widened.

you had turned to the origin of the voice and discovered the culprit

the balcony alongside you.

"thank you"

you glanced over, granting him a slight smile before he returns it.

"new to paris?"

he questioned, now you guys facing each other.

"yeah, just arrived this morning, and you?"

you asked before he softly smiles.

"not really, i've been here multiple times but the feeling is something i'll get used too."

you hum as a response

"how did you know to speak english to me? do i really act like a foriegner?"

you were growing more drowsy but this stranger was fascinating. who else could say they met someone and talked to them from a balcony romance?

"english song, random guess"

you nodded your head, not certain if he could see you but that was all you could muster up.

there grows stillness beside the bustling street below until the stranger breaks it.

"i know this sounds weird but since you're new here, would you like to go out with me tomorrow to travel the city?"

that question felt like ice water was just splashed onto your face. the proposal startled you. 

the stranger didn't appear like a bad person. been to paris varied times, can acknowledge good music and good at conversation.

as much as this stranger flatter you, how could you trust him?

"as much as i would love to, how do i know that you're not trying to kidnap me, even worse, kill me?"

he stifles a laugh.

"hey knock it off, this is a very serious question, balcony boy"

you snicker, desiring to know the answer than anticipated.

"i promise you that i won't try to kidnap OR kill you. i'm just offering and you can even pat me down before we go out together."

this was by far one of the most peculiar offers you had received but this was THE stranger offer you came to france seeking.

you know sunoo would not advocate for numerous reasons and you can hear his voice already 

"number one, dangerous"

"number two, dangerous!"

"number three, DANGEROUS!"

but sunoo isn't here right now. you chose to grab the opportunity. france had provided you luck today.

"alright then"

a moment of silence goes by before you hear him clearing his throat.

"you're serious right?"

he glances at you and your eyes lock. though you can't see that well due to the absence of light, you nod.

the eiffel tower gave you enough light that you could make our curious eyes, tall nose, fair skin that radiated in the soft lighting, and full lips that were curved into a smile

"i'll see you at the lobby at eight,"

next morning

to say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. you agreed to a stranger who claimed to know paris like the back of his palm. you met him off your balcony and now you were agreeing to go a date with him? 

"you must be out of your mind!" sunoo exclaimed through the phone.

"well yes i must have been at 8 pm last night when fatigue was hitting the hardest but how can i say no now?"

"i don't know maybe, I DON'T KNOW YOU STRANGER DANGER?" sunoo shouts

and like you foretold last night, sunoo was not a big supporter of this idea. over the course of fifteen minutes, you had been continuously scolded by him.

you cringe, " sunoo, i promise that i'll be fine. i just need you to help me pick out an outfit"

sunoo rolls his eyes, "what are your options?"

though sunoo wasn't supportive of this, he couldn't let you go on a date without style.

you held up two choices; a blue floral dress that settled to your mid-thigh and a pink tennis skirt with a white cami shirt.

"well do we like this guy or do we like LIKE this guy?" sunoo questioned.

"what- well i literally met him last night? so i don't even like him, we're just going out for this one day since he offered"

"uh-huh, then the blue floral dress, it's hot there right?" sunoo says

"super hot," you groan.

you glance at the time, 7:00 am.

"i have to start getting ready sunoo, i'll update you later alright?" you smile

"alright, try not to get killed but have fun too! love you"

"love you too," you say back before hanging up.

you quickly hop in the shower and make sure to not take too long.

doing skincare, putting on the outfit, and spraying a little bit of perfume, you are ready to head out the door.

one last check to make sure you have all the things.

7:58 am

you quickly head down to see several people in the lobby.

a bellman, a pair of teenage girls who seemed like they were dragged here, a couple around the mid-40s trying to check-in, and a teenage boy that rested on one of the lobby seats.

it was evident who the balcony boy was but you just called out to be safe.

"balcony boy," you say.

the teenage boy that was seated turns around before flashing you a smile. 

"miss singer,"

you airly chuckle at the nickname.

observing him in person was a lot different. you could see his long body proportion, bright eyes, sharp jawline, with fair skin that complimented his rich brown hair.

a distinct experience from seeing him on the balcony.

"i'm (y/n)! and you?" you ask

"i'm lee heeseung"

#enhypen #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #andthenwemet #enhypen x reader #enhypenxreader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #lee heeseung #jay park #jake sim #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #ni-ki #niki #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #enhypen masterlist #enhypen headcannon #enhypen mtl #enhypen timestamp #enhypen fic #enhypen drabbles

[spaceskam]

Follow up to this ❤️ special thanks to ul1tsa on ao3 for idea!

ao3

Warnings: talk Jesse and his bullshit & bombs

Michael waited a few weeks before he got drunk and lost that thing in his brain that kept him from doing dumb shit.

He went to the cabin and unlocked the door with his key. He didn't usually use keys, he had one in his brain, but there was something about having a key to Alex's place that felt special. Besides, he needed to make sure that's actually what it was. He pushed the door open and tried the light switches. The bulb on the porch was out. He'd need to get a new one.

He slowly navigated around the space, making a list of tiny things that were bothersome. He didn't even know if he was welcome here... But why else would Alex give him a key?

It was a two bedroom and had a bathroom that connected the two rooms. The kitchen was small and it didn't have a washing machine or dryer. The living room was old. None of it looked like Alex. What exactly would Alex's space even look like? He'd figure it out.

He went back outside to the wrap around porch, walking around it slowly and holding onto the rail. There were a few old boards that could stand being replaced. There was a window unit in each bedroom. He didn't figure it'd be too hard to change that for a central air system.

Michael went back inside and towards the kitchen. The refrigerator was unplugged, so he moved it to plug it back in. The cabinets were empty aside from some old canned beans and a single pan. He went back to the living room.

The couch was even more uncomfortable than he remembered, hard and a little dusty. He sat down anyway and rubbed his hand over it. When he laid down and breathed in, it didn't smell like Alex. It was unfair. Cruel, even.

He laid there anyway, lulling himself to sleep with the memory of Alex's skin.

-

It became a thing.

When his mind got chaotic and he needed something to do with his hands, he'd go to the cabin. He replaced boards, cleaned, hooked up a washing machine and dryer. After a couple months, he bought a comfier couch from an old lady who was selling it. He took down the hunting memoribillia and tried to find things that Alex might like. A couple trinkets bought during a trip to the nearby reservation, a painting bought from an artist who showed her work at the renaissance festival, and a hand-woven blanket from an older lady who traveled all the way from the Navajo Nation to sell the two she made a month at the market–and then vowed that he would never pay that much money for anything ever again.

He started spending more time there than he spent at his airstream and, after passing out on the couch after spending his entire day off trying to set up a central air system, he decided it might be worth buying food. So he did. He bought a few things, added three extra locks to the front and back doors, and brought his thrifted silverware and dishes from the airstream to set up a place for himself there.

It was slowly coming together. It felt like a home. He bought a broom.

He didn't tell Isobel or Max about any of this, they didn't need to know about Alex. Instead, Michael kept it to himself and spun lies about where he was whenever they asked questions. Usually they didn't. He was Michael, after all, it wasn't that odd for him to drop off the map.

He eventually started fixing up the bedrooms which were a little harder. It looked too much like a middle aged man stayed there and that was absolutely not the look he was going for. He got new bedspreads and sheets from a discount store and matching bedside tables from the dump that only needed some sanding and some finish to make nice. A new showerhead made out of things he found around the junkyard fit nice too. He played with the water heater until it stopped needing to be manually reset every 60 gallons, sanded and put finish on the dresser, built a new bed frame and headboard out of scrap wood, and fixed the janky doorknob of the closet. It looked livable now.

Alex's birthday came around and he didn't have a number to reach him, so Michael did something a little stupid and a little sentimental and found himself at a thrift store. He bought a set of two identical rocking chairs for the back porch. He almost threw them out three times, but he decided on leaving them there and just ignoring them until he stopped feeling like they were too much.

There was something about the cabin as it came together that both felt like home and like it was far  too sacred to make a mess of. He kept it cleaner than he'd ever kept a place before. The dishes were always done, his dirty clothes always ended up in the laundry basket, never let himself get drunk enough that he'd be compelled to make a mess, and he swept and mopped every Sunday. His shampoo and body wash didn't leave rings in the bathtub.

It was nice.

-

It was about a year into renovating and six months into practically moving in when he found a broken telecision in the junkyard that someone had dropped.off. Curiosity got the best of him and he found himself trying to make it work in his free time. There was a strange sense of pride when he plugged it in and it turned on, the picture only slightly tinted blue and the sound as perfect as the speakers would allow. He wrapped it up in a couple blankets and loaded it into his truck, stopping by a thrift store on the way to the cabin to buy a few interesting DVDs for 50¢ a piece. He couldn't remember the last time he actively sat down to watch a movie for fun.

It took about thirty minutes to mount it above the fireplace, but eventually it was up and he found himself smiling as he put in a shitty mid-2000s straight-to-DVD teen movie. It played easily and he smiled wider. If there was one thing fixing up the cabin did, it was make him smile. It felt good to fix things up.

Michael grabbed a beer that was beside the leftovers in the fridge and settled on the couch, kicking his shoes off and pulling a blanket onto his lap. His phone was on the coffee table and charging with an alarm queued up to wake him up for work in the morning .It was the most normal he'd ever felt and he never wanted to give it back.

And it seemed like he wouldn't have to until the door creaked open.

Michael shot to his feet, standing like he was caught red handed as Alex stepped inside. He was still in uniform, a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His eyes were wide with wonder, though, as he looked around at all the shit Michael had done. It was the first time he regretted it.

"I'm sorry," Michael blurred out, catching Alex's attention, "I should've asked. I shouldn't have changed shit and I shouldn't have stayed here, I'm sorry, I'll go."

"Guerin, relax," Alex said, smiling in a pure way that Michael hadn't seen since they were seventeen, "I knew you were staying here."

"You did?" Michael asked skeptically.

"Yeah," he said, carefully putting down the duffle bag and closing the door, "Electric bill?"

Michael's eyes widened. "Oh, fuck, I forgot about that, I'm so sorry."

"Guerin," Alex laughed, "Stop. I'm happy you're staying here. I don't mind, really."

Michael swallowed and tried to believe him when he said he was happy. Because Michael was happy. Happy to be here, happy to see Alex, happy to see where tonight led. He tapped his hands against his thighs as Alex took another look around.

"I didn't expect all this, though," Alex breathed.

"It's, uh, not all of it. I can show you around?" Michael offered awkward. Alex smiled wider and nodded.

So Michael gave him a tour of his own house. He showed him the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom, and how the locks on the doors worked. Alex put the duffle bag in the closet and gently touched Michael's shirt that was hanging in there like he didn't believe it was actually there. Michael stood with his hands clasped behind his back and rocked up on his toes as Alex felt over the headboard he made and the blanket on the bed. He shook his head, looking over at Michael.

"I can't... I can't believe you did all of this," Alex said, looking at him. He wasn't smiling anymore. Instead, he looked like he was about to cry.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"

"Michael," he cut him, laughing softly as he came closer. He touched his arm, his hand sliding up as he moved in closer and draped his arms around Michael's neck. Michael rested his hands on his hips. "I love it so much. But it's so much. How much did you spend? Let me pay you back."

"No, don't. Most of it's stuff I fixed from broken stuff or I got for super cheap, I barely spent $300 over the last year," he said. He purposefully left out what he spent on the more decorative things, those could simply be gifts from all the birthdays he missed.

"Still," Alex said, swallowing hard as he reached out and touched Michael's cheek. Michael leaned into it. He hadn't realized how successful he'd been at distracting himself from missing Alex until then. "This is all so nice. I-I don't even know what to say. I didn't expect this at all."

"I mean... I just didn't like that it looked like an angry old man lived here, I get enough of that with Sanders," Michael said. He was struggling to see what about the dumb little things made Alex emotional. In fact, they were selfish. He wanted to pretend Alex wasn't a million miles away. That was as selfish as it got. But Alex laughed and kissed him and Michael stopped feeling guilty.

"Thank you," Alex gushed against his lips, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Everything about this was completely contrary to Alex's last visit home. It wasn't confusing or blurry and he felt safe. He felt loved. He clung to Alex and kissed him hard, trying to quench the desperate, overwhelming feeling in his stomach.

"I gotta take a shower, I'm gross from that fucking plane and I need to be clean for the things I  wanna do to you," Alex breathed, pulling away just a little. Michael nodded, going in for another kiss anyway. Alex giggled and leaned back. "It'll be quick, I promise."

"I worked all day, I need one too, so let me join?" Michael asked. Pleaded, really. He didn't want to let go.

"Good idea," Alex said, "Do you have a security system set up?"

"It's next on my list," Michael said honestly. Alex grinned, cupping his cheek in his hand and slowly starting to pull him to the bathroom.

"Good boy."

-

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything and you know it."

Alex huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. Michael loved seeing him like that. His hair was slightly past regulation, laying on his forehead and smashed against the pillow. After a long shower and stumbling into bed, they'd finally wore themselves out. Now they were in bed in Alex's house.

Their house.

Alex shifted to face him, face a little too serious consider the circumstances. Michael slowly faded to seriousness to fit it. Alex reached out, fingers grazing Michael's cheek and down his neck, over his shoulder, down to his torn up hand. Michael very quickly got serious and watched him pull his hand up to his lips.

"It's embarassing," Alex said.

"Since when have I been known to judge you?" Michael asked, stretching his leg out to wedge between Alex's. Alex parted his knees just enough to lock their legs together.

"I just... I've been thinking about my dad," Alex whispered.

"Uh oh," Michael said, trying to lighten the mood. Alex rolled his eyes.

"I've been trying to work through all my issues, I guess, since I realized you were staying here. I want this to work, you know?" Alex said and Michael was all ears, "And I think I didn't realize he was a bad guy until I saw him do this."

"What do you mean?" Michael said before he could process if that was a smart thing to ask.

"Like, I spent so many years thinking that my mom was the bad one because she left and at least my dad was there. It didn't matter if he beat me as long as he was there," Alex explained. Michael didn't really understand, but, with all the things they felt that overlapped, it was fine if he didn't understand that one thing. "And I... Even when I rebelled, I just wanted his approval. Part of me still does. I think I always will. Which is stupid because all the attention he gives me is solely on his terms, especially when it's positive."

"He's not worth it."

"I know," Alex said, smiling slightly before he kissed his hand again, "Logically, I know. But illogically... I'm still trying to remind myself he's a bad guy. It just took me so long to see it."

Michael didn't say anything, simply nodded and let Alex touch him as he needed to keep himself calm. Whatever kept him in bed, kept him in their space. He didn't know how long Alex was going to be home and he was too scared to ask, so he didn't.

"But, I'm trying," Alex sighed, looking at him in the eyes. He was so intense with every look and sometimes Michael felt compelled to look away, but not in moments like this. Never in moments like this. "I don't want to mess this up by trying to please him."

"I don't wanna fuck up either."

"I think we're on a good track, though," Alex smiled, tightening his legs and tugging Michael impossibly close. Just where he wanted to be. "Off topic, but I'm hungry."

Michael laughed softly and was incredibly thankful for a subject change. "I have leftover pasta in the fridge if you want that."

Alex smiled ridiculously wide for something as meaningless as day old pasta.

"Leftovers," Alex repeated in a whimsical tone, "You're gonna make a good little househusband."

"Shut the fuck up," Michael laughed, shoving his shoulder. Alex laughed right back and moved to get up. Michael followed suit without question. There was no way he was leaving his side.

"Let's eat."

-

Michael woke up to his alarm and an empty bed.

Panic struck him and he thought about calling out for Alex, but his voice wouldn't work as if subconsciously knowing the answer. Terrified, even. He slowly pushed himself out of bed, pulling on a pair of jeans. Dread continued to pool in him as he tiptoed out of the room and into the empty living room. But it smelled like coffee which was definitely a good sign.

It took him only a few seconds to see that Alex was out on the back porch in one of the rocking chairs. His heart seemed to skip a beat or two or four. The sun hit his shirtless body perfectly and he seemed to fucking glow. Michael had to take a few deep breaths before he stepped outside.

""Morning," Alex hummed, looking over at him. His hair was still a mess, but he looked better rested than Michael had seen him in a long time.

"I thought you left," he said stupidly. Alex shook his head.

"I can't really sleep in anymore and I didn't wanna wake you up. Sorry if I scared you."

"It's okay," he said. And it really, really was. This was the perfect sight to see in the morning and it made him angry at Sanders for employing him. "I, uh, I have to go to work. I can call in, though."

"Don't," Alex said with a warm smile, "I'll be here when you get home."

Michael felt his whole body heat up at that. Home. Alex would be here. He wasn't sure he would actually believe it until he saw it.

"Yeah, uh," Michael said, clearing his throat, "How-how, like, how long are you..."

"Michael," Alex said, standing up and walking closer. Michael was going to melt if he kept saying his name. Alex kept his mug firmly in one hand and touched his cheek with the other. "I'm home for a month."

"A month," Michael breathed. Alex smiled and nodded, leaning forward to kiss him. It sounded like a short period of time, but it would be longest consecutive time they'd ever spent together. Ever. It sounded fake.

"So, go to work. I'm not going anywhere," he promised. It was hard to listen, but he did.

And you know what? Alex was home when he got there that afternoon.

-

"Where the fuxk are you living?"

"Airstream."

Michael spoke casually as Isobel stood by his feet as he worked on the car. He knew it was wrong to lie to her about something like this, but, fuck, he was barely sure this was real himself. He'd woken up to Alex for three whole weeks and he only had one left. He wasn't wasting that time and he wasn't bursting his domestic bubble.

"Stop lying to me! You haven't lived at the airstream for months now," Isobel argued, "You're never here at night and if I call you, it takes you for fucking ever to get to my house. Where are you staying?"

He sighed, trying to ignore her more and more. It didn't work very well as she stood her ground and basically decided she would follow him when he left work if he didn't tell her.

"It's a cabin outside of town, okay?" he caved, deciding on a half-truth. He didn't need to say it was Alex's.

"A cabin?" Isobel asked skeptically, "And you just haven't told me or shown me? What if something happens? I need to know where to find you, Michael."

"Fine, fine, okay?" he sighed, "Just, give me a week. It's a fucking wreck."

"You promise?" she asked. He nodded. "Good."

If he couldn't keep his home a secret, he could at least keep Alex to himself for a little while. He could deal with that later. In a week, his house would be empty. In a week, his bed would be empty.

He could deal with her then.

-

The bed was a lot of colder than he remembered.

-

January 30th, 2017 at 21:45.

Or, at least that's when Michael found out. The actual event happened on the 26th, a bombing injuring 30 Airmen and killing 3. There wasn't an article about it and he didn't receive a call. Instead, when he was stalking one of the mothers of a guy in Alex's group, he saw she posted about the bombing and saying her son was one of the lucky ones and thanking God. Michael nearly had a breakdown.

He spent the next hour calling Alex and when that didn't work, he started calling down a list of military hospitals. He found him eventually at Landstuhl and had to lie about being his brother to get him on the phone along with a warning about him being drugged up. But at least he was alive.

"Alex?" Michael whispered. Once again, he found him scared that Alex wouldn't answer. But he's spent an hour panicking and he wasn't about to just not talk.

"Huh?" Alex said, voice hoarse. Michael closed his eyes, bowing his head. It was small, but it was something.

"Hey," Michael croaked, doing his best not to cry. He wanted to go see him. He couldn't. It didn't work that way. As nice as it was when they pretended they didn't have a care in they world, they did have a care. His name was Jesse Manes. Not to mention the giant alien hole he hadn't even told Alex about... "You scared me."

"Sorry," Alex said. Michael breathed in deep.

"No, it's okay. How are you feeling?"

"Tired," he whined, "I wanna see you "

Michael looked up, blinking away tears as quick as he could. It was difficult, but he managed it. He could cry later.

"I know, I wanna see you too. Maybe you can come home soon and I can," Michael suggested. Alex hummed a noncommittal tune. "So, uh, what all happened? Did you get, um, get burned or something?"

"A little," Alex said. Michael swallowed harshly. "Hey, you know what they did? They took my leg."

Michael's breath caught in his throat.

"What?"

"My leg," Alex repeated, that sort of dazed tone in his voice, "Couldn't save it, had to go."

Michael didn't know what to say. He didn't know how he was supposed to react to this. There wasn't a handbook. Instead of letting himself react like he was the one who lost something, he fed off of Alex's tone.

"How do you feel about that?" Michael asked. Alex hummed.

"My foot itched all day and there was nothing to scratch."

Michael huffed a laugh, rubbing the hell of his hand beneath his eyes to try to get rid of the tears.

"Well, if that's the worst of it, sounds like you're doing good."

"They gave me so many drugs," Alex told him, yawning halfway through. Michael smiled and nodded even though he couldn't see him. "I'm tired."

"Do you want me to let you go to sleep?" Michael asked. Alex didn't answer and that felt like an answer enough. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Mhm."

"I love you so much," Michael said. He didn't think about it, he just said it. It needed to be said.

"Mhm."

Michael huffed another laugh again, "Goodnight, Alex."

He ended the call and looked around the house that he'd spent over a year of his life renovating. He tried to picture Alex in it again, a version of Alex who might need accessibilities he didn't think of when he did things the first time around.

And now he had new projects.

-

Turns out it was pretty easy to widen doorways.

It took Michael about two days to widen one Interior door, ripping off the door frame and sawing through the wall itself. He widened them all from 30" to 38" in width and felt thankful that the exterior doors were all double doors. He didn't even know if Alex would be using a wheelchair, but it felt like a safe option regardless.

He ripped out the tub from the bathroom, replacing it with one with a little more traction on the bottom. He installed bars all around the bathroom and a wooden seat that was attached to the wall so it could fold up or down when he needed it. 

Again, he found himself taking a lap around the porch to check for any loose boards or nails. He fixed any that even might've been questionable. It gave him the idea to add ramps beside the steps to the porch. He built them and jumped on them as hard as he could go make sure they didn't break.

It helped when he got angry–ngry at something, angry at nothing, angry at everything–to put things back together again. It made him feel useful even when phone calls consisted of Alex being short with him and hanging up. He was focusing on PT and learning how to use a prosthetic and Michael knew it was frustrating. He could hear it in his voice even when he refused to talk about it. He always refused to talk about it. Some days he refused to talk at all.

He refused to let it out distance between them.

On extra bad days, Michael would drink and Google random accessibility ideas. He knew Alex. As sweet as he thought his renovating for him was, he knew Alex would be too stubborn to ask him for help on anything. He wanted to make it so he didn't have to as much as possible. Open spaces, all but gluing the rug down, a bench at the foot of the bed, a chair in the bathroom, a stool with wheels in the kitchen, sanding down the sharp edges of the kitchen table, dumb shit that might help maybe once.

He was trying because Alex was trying. They still wanted to make this work.

And they were going to no matter what.

#malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #rnm fic #my fic #verse: just one normal night

[alirhi]

jfc FINALLY

Ugh. I have been fighting with my muse to get this done for two months. And I was actually going to stretch it to line up more or less with the movie's timeline, but honestly... I'm just so burnt 😂 So this is what you get.

Title: Monday Chapter: Oneshot Fandom: Monday Rating: R/NC17 (I mean, have you seenthe movie?) Pairing: Mickey/OC Summary: What if, instead of Chloe, Mickey met a woman that night who was actually good for him and whom he was compatible with? WARNINGS: swearing, sex (not explicit; I rarely if ever write smut, but still) Notes: I hate Chloe. Omfg I hate her so much. So I fixed it XD Yes, I literally rewrote the entire movie with a different love interest. Well... most of it lol. I get bored, okay? Lol. Oh, and the girl is actually a character I yanked from one of my original stories lol. I didn't make her up on the spot for this (I'm too lazy for that XD). Tweaking her to fit the setting was kind of a bitch, as she's from a fantasy series, so if she seems kind of Mary Sue-ish...sorry.

“You have a nose for American cheese!”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Come on, that girl looks insane!”

“What?” Looking surprised, Argyris turned and looked where his friend was pointing, and then laughed. “Not her, you idiot! The ginger-snap over there!”

The girl in question, a lithe, pretty thing with a wild mass of red hair that she constantly shoved impatiently out of her face was dancing alone a few feet away from the angry-looking blonde Mickey had thought he'd been talking about. She was gorgeous, he had to admit.

“Go and talk to her, man!”

He pointed to the turntables in front of him, impatiently reminding Argyris, “No, I'm working!”

“Come on,” the other man taunted, “I know your playlist inside-out! It's the same R&B shit, and then a little bit of disco!”

“It's not R&B, and it's not disco!”

“This song is twenty fuckin' minutes long! Come on!”

“Hey!” Mickey grimaced, hastily yanking his headphones off and setting them down as he was dragged off toward the redhead. “Fuck!”

All puffed up with pride – and way too much to drink – Argyris pushed Mickey when they drew close to the girl, so that he slammed right into her. Laughing, he patted her shoulder, but his mirth was short-lived. She grabbed his hand and twisted his arm up behind his back.

“Put your hands on a girl you don't know again. I dare you.”

Mickey covered his mouth with one hand to hide his laughter as his friend writhed in the deceptively delicate-looking girl's grip.

“Alright, alright! I'm sorry!” Laughing as he was released, Argyris went to put a hand on each of their shoulders, took one look at the girl, and just hung off of Mickey's shoulder, instead. “You're an American... You're an American! You're a man, you're a woman! There you go!”

“Yeah, crazy kismet,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “Two Americans out of their natural deep-fried, flag-waving habitat at the same time! Imagine!”

Undaunted, the drunk Greek simply shrugged and flounced off with a flippant, “Whatever. Have fun!”

“Sorry about him,” Mickey said immediately, smiling when she turned and smiled at him. At least she didn't seem to be judging him by the company he kept.

“Friend of yours?”

“Argyris? Yeah.” He grinned. “He's kind of an idiot, but he's a good guy.”

She laughed. “I'll take your word for it. Aren't you the DJ? Should you be over here?”

“No,” he admitted with a laugh, “but I'm fine for a few minutes. You wanna dance?”

“I'd love to.”

She was tall, he realized as he spun her around; in the little barely-there heels she was wearing, they stood eye to eye. Clearly drunk, though, she lost her balance every few seconds and crashed into him with a laugh, occasionally giving up on righting herself and just resting her head on his shoulder.

Mickey grimaced as he heard the song beginning to wind down, but the girl hanging off of him only smiled and patted his chest. “Go on! Get back to work. I'll be here when you're done.”

“Any chance I could convince you to come around the other side?” He gave her his most charming grin, and felt a little warm inside when she laughed.

“Why, so you can stare down my top the whole time?”

With a shrug, he admitted, “I've been doing that anyway, so why not?”

“Honesty!” She grinned and kissed his cheek. “I like it. Alright, you gorgeous lech! Get back up there. We'll see what I can do about your view.”

He only made it another hour or so, with the girl coming up to him every few minutes with another drink, and occasionally flashing him from the spot she'd found in front of him. Queuing up enough songs to play through the end of the party, he hopped down off the podium and ran over to her, tugging her close for the kiss he'd been dying for since Argyris had first pulled him over to her. “You wanna get out of here?”

“You sure? What about-”

Mickey shook his head, smiling. “It'll run til they all pass out. No one'll touch my stuff, not here. Come on!”

“Okay, yeah.” She shrugged and laughed, allowing him to pull her through the throng of dancing people and away from the party. “Fuck it. Let's go!”

The next morning, naked, hungover, and covered in sand, they were nudged awake by a police officer while an angry lady yelled about their indecency. The officer waited for them to scramble back into their clothes and then cuffed them both, ushering them into the back of a cruiser.

Despite the situation, Mickey couldn't keep the silly smile off of his face. At least the cops had been kind enough to cuff their hands in front of them, allowing him to hold his out to the girl beside him. “Hi. I'm Mickey.”

She laughed, the realization that they'd never introduced themselves clearly dawning in her bright green eyes. “Beck.”

“Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand, but couldn't hide his slight confusion. “That a first name or a last name?”

“It's short for my first name.” She was still smiling, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she added, “Call me 'Becky' once and I'll be facing real prison time at the end of this ride, and you'll be missing body parts.”

With a slightly nervous laugh, he nodded. “Alright, noted. Beck it is!”

“And, nice to meet you, too.”

There was the briefest of conversations at the police station, the sandy couple signed themselves out, and then Mickey persuaded one of the officers to give them a lift back to the beach.

“You want a ride?”

Beck grinned, one ruddy eyebrow arching up. “I still need to clean up from the 'ride' last night.”

Laughing, Mickey shook his head. “I'll never say 'no' to more of that, but that's not what I meant.”

“I know.” She shrugged, snarky grin turning into an almost bashful smile. “And yeah, I'd love a ride. Thanks.”

He loaned her his helmet and, after getting directions from her, drove her to her hotel. It seemed like that would be the end of it... and he hated that thought. “So, what're you doing tonight?”

“Packing and sleeping,” she told him with a laugh, leaning against the building. “I gotta be on a plane Monday morning, and I hate leaving things to the last minute.”

“You're leaving?”

With a grin and a snarky air kiss, she teased, “Missing me already, lover boy?”

Mickey shrugged, grinning. “Maybe I am. I like you, is that so bad?” He beckoned, and was somewhat surprised when she walked right over to him. Still smiling like a fool, he grabbed her by the waistband of her shorts and pulled her close for a kiss. “Come with me tonight, for a proper sendoff.”

“Come with you where?”

“I'm DJing on an island.” Thumb sliding under her clothes to slide over her hip, he wheedled, “Come on. Come with me.”

“I need to shower. I'm all sandy and sticky from last night.” Beck gave him just long enough to deflate, and then she smirked and nipped his jaw. “Care to join me?”

“Fuck yes!” He was off his moped in a flash, following the laughing redhead as she took his hand and tugged him into the hotel. Giggling like hyenas, the pair made their way up to Beck's room, stopping every few steps for one to yank the other close for another kiss. Mickey was on cloud nine. This girl was fun, she was sassy and wild, and he couldn't get enough.

It seemed she couldn't get enough, either. They'd barely stepped into the shower before Beck was on her knees in front of him, her hand on his ass and his hand tangled in her hair as she sucked him off. He leaned back against the wall, tugging lightly on her hair and shuddering as he felt her moan around him.

“Fuck... oh, fuck, you're good at that! Holy shit... Stop. Stopstopstop!” With a little half-smile at her look of confusion, he tugged her back to her feet and kissed her. “You're fucking amazing. God damn, you are good with that mouth! But that's not what I want.”

Beck grinned, a playful glint in her bright green eyes that made him weak in the knees. “That's not a good idea.”

“Oh, no?” He backed her up against the wall, nuzzling her neck as his hand drifted down between her legs. “Funny... You don't seem to really believe that.”

“I definitely want you to fuck me til I can't move,” she assured him, shaking as she tried desperately not to laugh. “But it's not a good idea-” Her words turned into a startled whimper as Mickey hoisted her up by her thighs and slid into her to the hilt.

“I think it's a great idea,” he purred, biting her shoulder. Then he almost dropped her, and they both cracked up.

“The wall's slippery! This isn't smart.”

“No, it's definitely not smart,” he agreed, turning so that he was holding her up in mid-air instead of bracing her against the wall. “But that doesn't make it not a good idea.”

Beck laughed, clinging to him for dear life. “You're just gonna hold me up?”

“Yep.”

“The whole time?”

“You don't think I can do it?” Mickey grinned, bouncing her a few times just to prove her wrong. “You weight nothing, baby girl. I got this.” She was surprisingly light... but she was also a grown woman almost the same height as him. His pride would never let him admit it aloud, but there was no way he was going to be able to fuck her like this for long.

Just as he was wracking his somewhat foggy brain for a solution, he saw light dawning in Beck's eyes and waited. “Counter!” She nodded toward the sink, and only then did he realize they hadn't even closed the shower curtain, and the bathroom floor was getting soaked. “Put me on the counter.”

“I thought we were supposed to be getting cleaned up.” Even as he teased her, he was carefully stepping out of the tub, blessing her foresight when she grabbed a towel and threw it down just before he set his foot down, and carrying her across the bathroom.

Beck snickered and kissed him. “No point getting clean until we're done getting dirty. Shut up and fuck me.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

A little while later, they stumbled across another logistical issue Mickey hadn't considered.

“You are not putting dirty clothes on a clean body!” Beck insisted, prying his – pretty nasty at this point, he had to admit – clothes from his hands. “That's disgusting!”

“Well, what the fuck else am I supposed to wear? Clearly, I can't just run around naked. We got arrested for that this morning!”

“Pity,” she teased, eyeing him in a way that made him wonder if they were ever actually going to leave her hotel room. “You're the best view in Athens.”

“Maybe they arrested us out of jealousy, then.” Mickey shook his head, though he couldn't help chuckling a little, despite his frustration. “Either way, I'm kinda stuck. It's either be gross, or don't go anywhere.”

“As much as the thought of keeping you trapped here as my sex slave appeals to me...” With another mocking grin, Beck turned and started going through her dresser drawers. “I think I can help you out.”

“I'm not wearing your clothes.”

“They're less flamboyant than what you do wear.”

“They won't fit!”

She tossed him a tee shirt and a pair of cargo shorts that proved him very wrong. They were huge. At his questioning stare, she shrugged.

“I always pack a couple of cute outfits when I travel, and the rest is super baggy; at least three sizes too big. I like to be comfortable.”

“Convenient.” He stared at the shorts in his hands, and then at the belt she handed him a few seconds later. “Am I supposed to wear your underwear, too?”

Beck snorted and walked away, patting his shoulder as she passed him. “I don't wear underwear.”

“Then I guess I kind of am wearing yours.” Even as the joke was tumbling out of his mouth, he knew it was lame, but they still both laughed. Then he glanced at his watch and winced. “Shit, we gotta go.”

“What?”

He waited for the dress she was pulling on to settle into place and then wrapped his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest. “We gotta go. If we don't catch the next ferry, we're gonna be late.”

She flinched. “Okay, two seconds.” The girl moved like lightning. Mystified, Mickey watched as she yanked on a pair of canvas sneakers, grabbed her wallet and cell phone – which she then stuffed in the pockets of the shorts he was wearing – grabbed a hair tie, and ran for the door. In no time, she'd strangled her wild red curls into submission in a low ponytail. They hadn't even reached the elevator yet.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

Handing her his helmet, Mickey shook his head. “I think you got dressed faster than I did! I thought girls always take forever to get ready.”

Laughing, Beck rolled her eyes. As she settled on the back of the moped and tucked her skirt around her legs for decency, she told him, “I spent two years in the jungle with nothing but what I could fit in a backpack. Low maintenance is kinda my thing. The fewer steps to getting ready, the less time it takes.”

“That explains so much.” He stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head and grumbled as he slid into place in front of her and started the moped, “And raises so many more questions!”

“Full disclosure: I will probably answer none of them, as I'm very likely never going to see you again after tonight.”

Well, that was a depressing dose of reality he wasn't ready for. Not one to dwell on things, though, Mickey simply decided to have as much fun as he could with this girl while she was around, and treasure the steamy memories.

They made it to the ferry just in time. Making sure there was no one else around, Mickey smirked and tugged Beck into his lap, one hand sliding up her thigh. He moved slowly, giving her plenty of time to push him away if she wanted; she simply arched an eyebrow at his questioning look and grabbed his wrist, tugging his hand closer.

“Why do you think I'm wearing a dress?”

Fuck, he loved this girl!

They were pretty much attached at the hip the whole day – literally, when they could steal a few minutes alone. While he was DJing, she was dancing like a lunatic, front and center. Those piercing green eyes never strayed from him; he knew, because he couldn't look away from her, either. Once he was free, they danced together for a little while, but it didn't take long for Beck to grow bored and yank him down the beach, away from the party. They found a dark, hidden nook to be alone, spent the night hopelessly wrapped up in each other, and then cuddled as they watched the sun come up.

“Gods, this place is so beautiful!”

Mickey chuckled at the plural, but didn't ask about it. He had a more important question for her: “You really gonna leave all this behind?”

“I have to.” She didn't sound any happier about leaving than he was about letting her leave. “I gotta get home.”

“Where's home?”

“Boston. You?”

He grinned and nudged her. “Athens, baby. Been here seven years!”

“Okay, but where before here?” she prodded with a laugh. “You're obviously not Greek; you don't even speak it!”

“Do you?”

Beck sat up a little straighter, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Nai.”

“Showoff.”

“One word is being a showoff?” Beck laughed, shaking her head. “You've been here seven years, and you don't know a single word of the language?”

Mickey scowled, feeling defensive. “Everybody speaks English!”

“Wow.” She wasn't smiling anymore. She actually looked and sounded pretty pissed off. “That is astoundingly arrogant. And completely American, so clearly your obnoxious friend with no boundaries was right; it's not just a funny accent, you actually are American.”

“You're an American, too!”

“By birth,” she snapped, “not by choice. And I fucking hope not by attitude. I don't go stomping around foreign countries with absolutely no respect for their language or customs, expecting everyone around me to cater to my laziness.”

He rolled his eyes, scooting away from her. “Give me a break! Learning another language is hard!”

“Impossible, if you don't even try.”

“Yeah? How many languages do you speak?”

“Fluently?” She held up her hands, ticking each one off on her fingers as she listed them. “English, obviously. Korean, Irish Gaelic, Italian, and German. Passably? Japanese – I can speak it fluently, but I have trouble reading it; the kanji is a nightmare – Greek, Spanish, Portuguese, and Swedish. I can read Latin and Old Norse, and I'm learning Mandarin, but I admit I'm struggling with that one. Mostly for the same reason I can't read Japanese; the writing system.”

Gaping at her, Mickey couldn't formulate a response for a long moment. When his brain finally started working again, all he could think to say was, “Jesus, what the fuck are you, a robot?!”

“I'm an archaeologist,” she told him flatly, still looking irritated. “And I've been traveling since I was seventeen. Been studying at least one language other than English since I was ten. I definitely had an advantage, starting when I still had a little kid's spongy brain, but it's not impossible to learn at any age, if you actually care enough to try.”

“You sound like my ex.” Hoping to distract her from that comment he hadn't meant to make, he hastily asked, “If you love to travel so much, why're you in such a rush to get home?”

Beck sighed, turning to stare out over the water. “I promised my daughter I'd be home in time for her birthday.”

Huh. They had more in common that he'd thought. “You have a kid?”

She nodded. “Two. Two girls.”

“How old?”

“Alice is five,” she murmured, pulling her knees up to her chest and crossing her arms over them. Head pillowed on her arms, she added, “And Madeline's about to turn fourteen.”

“How the hell old are you?!” He hadn't meant to ask so bluntly, but he was so stunned by her daughters' ages that the question just kind of blurted itself out.

Mercifully, Beck laughed a little. “I'm thirty-three. I'll spare you some math – I was nineteen when I had Maddie.”

Mickey shook his head, not sure how to react. In all honesty, she didn't look much older than that now. There was a shadow behind her eyes that he was dying to ask about, but even as thoughtless as he could be, he knew when to just not go there. Instead, he told her softly, “My son is six.”

“What's his name?”

He smiled. As much as the situation with his ex sucked, he loved his son, and thinking about him always brought a little smile to Mickey's face. “Hector.”

The look on Beck's pretty face as she watched him like a hawk made him blush, though he wasn't sure why. There was just something about that direct green gaze that made him feel like she could read his mind. “He's the real reason you don't want to leave Greece, isn't he?” A spot-on guess like that certainly did nothing to dispel the notion.

He nodded. “Yeah. Yep. His mom hates my guts, but I don't care. There's nothing I wouldn't do to stay in his life. I actually, um... I have a room for him, at my place. If she'll ever let me take him, you know, just for a weekend or whatever... His room is ready and waiting for him.”

“All you can do is keep trying. Put in the work, be the best dad you can be, and hope for the best.”

Unsure what to say to that, Mickey changed the subject with an awkward smile. “So... Alice? She blonde, like Alice in Wonderland?”

Beck snorted, shaking her head. “No, she has black hair, like her dad.” She paused and then shook her head again with a bemused smirk on her face. “Actually, both of my girls look like their dads – dark hair, big blue eyes.” Smirk turning into a grin, she nudged him. “Guess I've got a type.”

“'Dads,' huh?” He grinned, too, and nudged her right back. “Plural?”

“You gonna get all judgy on me, now?” Her tone was light and teasing, but her eyes promised a whole lot of pain if he answered wrong.

Mickey just laughed. “Nope, no judgment. I think you've seen enough of what I'm like this weekend to know I wouldn't have the right.”

“Good answer.”

“I don't want you to leave.” He watched her go rigid and sighed, shaking his head. “I'm not gonna try to stop you. If you were leaving for literally any other reason, I might, but I'd never dream of trying to keep a mom away from her kid. I just... I really like you, and I wish you didn't have to go.”

She shrugged a little, staring out over the water again. “To be honest, I don't wanna go, either. I mean, I'm dying to see my girls again, being away from them is always painful, but... This place is so beautiful. I would love to stay a little longer.”

Not a single word about whether or not she liked him. That stung, but he did his best to ignore it. “Why don't you bring them with you when you travel?”

“I used to,” she admitted. “When it was just Maddie, I brought her everywhere with me and tutored her myself. I tried to keep it going after Alice was born, but it was rough. They got tired of always being on the road and not having kids their age to play with, so now I leave them with my sister when I'm away.”

“Wait, you taught her yourself?” He laughed, shaking his head in dismay. “Are you sure you're not a robot?”

Beck laughed, too, rolling her eyes. “I'm sure. There's more down time than you think in archaeology; plenty of time to keep an already smart girl from falling behind in her schooling.”

“They must take after their mom. I mean, you speak a zillion languages, so you gotta be pretty damn smart.” She was so reckless and carefree, it was hard to picture this woman digging in the dirt for broken clay pots, or wrangling two children to teach them math. From what he'd seen, it felt like Beck was describing a completely different person. He didn't want to offend her, so he refrained from pointing out that she came across less brilliant, multilingual career woman in her thirties and more Girls Gone Wild: Athens.

“Cheapann tú gur leathcheann mé.” He had no idea what the hell she'd just said, but he could tell from the look on her face that he hadn't been as good at keeping his thoughts to himself as he'd hoped. She looked both offended and darkly amused. “Pensi che una ragazza non possa essere intelligente e libera? Eísai vlákas, Mickey.”

He didn't bother asking for a translation; her tone told him he didn't want to know. “How many languages was that?”

Beck grinned. “Three. Gaelic, Italian, and Greek. I sometimes mix a few in the same sentence – I constantly mix Japanese and Korean at home; it makes my girls laugh – but I figured I'd be nice.”

Mickey opened his mouth to say he wouldn't have noticed the difference, and then stopped. He had noticed the difference; the lilt of her voice changed dramatically with each language. That was how he'd realized that she'd been speaking more than one in the first place. “I kinda wanna hear that mix, now. Are the languages that similar?”

“No.” She laughed. “Not at all. They share some slang thanks to pop culture, and both borrowed a lot from China, but they're structured differently, and the way they're spoken is different.”

“Then how do you mix them?”

“I speak them both,” she said with a shrug and another laugh. “If you speak more than one language well enough, they don't have to be similar to still flow. Like...” She smirked, leaning against him and batting her eyes. “Kimi wa baboya, demo... mada jowayo.”

“Showoff.”

“Yes.” Cracking up, she pulled him back to lie on the warm sand with her and cuddled close. “That time, absolutely.”

“Do you think you'll ever come back?” He'd been trying so hard to avoid the subject, but he just couldn't get his mind to budge from the fact that he didn't want her to leave.

With a fond smile, she kissed him before teasing lightly, “You gonna miss me, honey?”

Mickey grinned, hoping she couldn't see that he was feeling more melancholy than amused. “I think mostly I'll miss the sex. It's hard to find a woman who can keep up with me.”

“Oh, is that so?” She laughed and tickled him, making him squirm. Then she stopped, a warm, almost wistful smile on her face. “I'm gonna miss you, too, you know.”

Forced playful grin turning into a soft, genuine smile, he pulled her closer and kissed her. “I was beginning to worry you didn't like me.”

Beck grinned and nuzzled his neck. “The past twenty-four hours wouldn't have happened if I didn't like you.”

Feigning shock, Mickey gasped. “You mean you don't fuck strange men all over Greece indiscriminately?”

“No, that I do all the time,” she joked, hand sliding up one leg of his borrowed shorts. “But I only let the really special ones wear my clothes.”

He laughed, glancing down at himself; he'd forgotten for a second that they were hers. “Right. We should stop at my place so I can change and give these back before I take you back to your hotel.”

Beck sighed, snatching her hand back as if he'd burned her. “Right. Yeah, we should get going.”

Though he still hated that she had to leave, he kept his word and didn't try to stop her. Argyris tried to convince him to make some grand gesture at the airport, but Mickey shut him down with a grumpy, “It's her kid's birthday. I'm not that much of a selfish asshole.”

“I can't believe you're in love with this girl!” Hooting with laughter, Argyris slapped his back. “I'm a fuckin' matchmaker! Who knew?”

“Fuck off, Cupid!” Mickey grinned and shoved him away, hoping the other man couldn't see how shitty he really felt. He moped for a couple of days, barely paying attention to the world around him, just missing the crazy girl with the temper as fiery as her hair.

Then he answered an unexpected knock at his door and was baffled by the sight of a cute, petite brunette with huge blue eyes staring up at him. “Um... Can I help you?”

“Huh.” One dark eyebrow arching up, she called back over her shoulder, “You really do have a type.”

A familiar laugh made Mickey freeze in shock as Beck stepped into view behind the girl, another one in her arms. “I made the mistake of telling Maddie that I met this awesome DJ in Greece-”

“And since I have no friends anyway,” the girl, who he finally realized was Beck's older daughter, Madeline, cut in, “I figured there'd be no problem moving my 'party' somewhere more fun than my aunt's house. For the third year in a row.”

“Jesus, you might look like your dad, but you sound just like your mom!” The words slipped out before he could stop himself. While Madeline rolled her eyes, the little girl in her mother's arms – Alice, he figured – giggled.

“Yeah,” Beck agreed with a grin, moving closer and leaning past her daughters to kiss him. “She's got my snarky attitude. Gods help me. Thankfully, this one's still innocent.” She squeezed Alice tighter against her side, making her giggle again.

“Mommy! You're squishing me!”

“Her? Innocent? Did auntie tell you what she did to my stereo?!”

“It was an accident!”

“My butt it was!”

Wincing, Beck glanced at Mickey and mouthed, 'I'm sorry.' “Girls, enough. What have I told you about bickering in front of strangers?”

“I mean, you also tell us not to spread our legs for strangers, and yet...”

“Madeline Fiona O'Brien!”

“What?!” Eyes wide and looking frustrated, Madeline gestured to Mickey. “I'm kinda right!”

He couldn't hold it in anymore. Leaning on the door frame to stay upright, Mickey burst out laughing. God help this woman, he thought as he struggled to get his breath back. Her daughter's exactly like her!

Face even redder than her hair, Beck grumbled, “I did not tell her we slept together.”

“You couldn't shut up about him and your clothes smelled like dude. Doesn't take a genius.”

“Maddie, couldja stop? I kinda wanna see more of Greece than two buildings. If mom drags us home early cuz you're being a jerk, I will kick your seat the whole way back to Boston!”

“I'll let her.”

Mickey had just about gotten his laughter under control. Still chuckling, he yanked Beck into his arms and gave her a long, slow kiss. “You are dreaming if you think I'm letting you leave again.”

“That doesn't sound kidnappy at all!”

Laughing again, he released the blushing redhead only to trap Madeline in his arms and tickle her until she squeaked. “And you, little miss Queen of Sarcasm!” With a grin, he kissed the top of her head and released her, pleased to see that she was smiling. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

As he stepped aside to let them in, it finally dawned on him that he'd never actually worked a child's party before. He was used to crowds of rowdy drunk Greeks, not two innocent little girls. He didn't even know any kids, besides his own! He glanced helplessly at Beck, who snickered and kissed his jaw.

“Just do whatever; I can keep an eye on them. Maddie was more interested in the change of scenery than an actual party.”

“Does she really have no friends?”

She shrugged, turning to watch her daughters awkwardly settle on the couch and begin nudging and poking each other repeatedly. “She's never been the most social kid in the world. Around their own age groups, Liss is the bubbly extrovert and Maddie can't be bothered; she wanted to hang with kids her own age until she realized they annoy the hell out of her.”

“Argyris might know some people with kids...” He rolled his eyes. “He'll think I'm nuts, trying to hunt down teenagers, though.”

Beck laughed and shook her head. “No, really, don't worry about it. We don't even have to actually throw a party-”

Cutting her off with a kiss, Mickey insisted, “Oh, she's getting a party. When is her birthday, anyway?”

“Today, actually.”

He flinched, glancing at the clock, and then relaxed. It was still pretty early. “She's getting a party,” he repeated firmly. “She's fourteen! That... has no special significance in any culture I've heard of, but the kid still deserves some fun on her damn birthday. Especially if the last few have been disappointing.”

“The day after is pretty significant in our culture,” she murmured, so softly he almost didn't catch it.

“Is it?” Wasn't she American? He seemed to recall a whole conversation that almost turned into an argument about it. “Since when?”

Beck blushed again, looking uncomfortable. “Never mind.”

“...Girls, make yourselves at home. I need to talk to your mom for a minute.”

“You're talking now.”

He almost wrote that off as another snarky response, until he realized it had come from Alice. Looking innocently confused, she stared at him with almost comically large blue eyes, and he smiled. “In private,” he clarified as gently as he could as he grabbed Beck's wrist and tugged her down the hall toward his bedroom.

“Door open at all times!”

With a huff, Beck dug her heels in and spun around to glare at Madeline. “Who's the mom, here?”

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“Madeline.” Wrenching free of Mickey's grasp, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared her defiant offspring down. “Who's the mom?”

Glowering right back, Madeline mirrored her pose and grudgingly admitted, “You are.”

“Good. Now that we've got that cleared up, how about you show our host a little respect?”

Madeline's face was red as a tomato, but she still looked more angry and resentful than contrite, until she took a deep breath and turned to Mickey. With a surprising note of sincerity, she grumbled, “Sorry, Mickey.”

“Jet lag gets the best of all of us. Maybe you two should take a nap while your mom and I talk.” He didn't know what the hell else to say. He couldn't say 'it's okay' and undermine her mother, and 'you're forgiven' sounded kind of dickish. With an awkward smile, he waved and resumed dragging Beck down the hall.

As soon as the bedroom door was closed behind them, Beck sighed and leaned against it, looking worn out. “I'm so sorry about her. She's been so bitchy lately; my sister said she was even copping an attitude with her, which she almost never does.”

“She's probably just tired and been missing her mom.” In truth, he thought Madeline's sass was funny as hell, but he wasn't about to step into the middle of a mother-daughter war. Instead, he focused on his own curiosity. “What 'culture' celebrates the day after a birthday?”

She winced. “It's nothing, Mickey. Forget it.”

Weird. “What's the big deal? I'm just curious.”

“Alright, fine.” Looking and sounding resigned, she muttered, “If you're gonna judge or laugh, might as well get it out of the way – I'm a witch.”

Mickey stared at her. Whatever he'd been expecting her to say, it wasn't that. “...A witch?”

“I don't ride a broomstick and I can't turn you into a toad.” Oof. Defensive. Judging by her tone, she'd had this conversation before, and it hadn't gone well. “My sister's a witch, too, and so are my girls. There's an old tradition in the craft; at thirteen we find our deity, if we're meant to serve one, and a year and a day later, we pledge to their service.”

Light dawned. “Oh, that's why you always say 'Gods' instead of 'God'! That makes sense.” Who was he to judge? He wasn't particularly religious, but was any one religion really any weirder than the next? Curiosity abated, he brushed it off and tugged her into his arms. “My very own Sabrina.”

Beck snorted and dropped her head onto his shoulder. “Sometimes I feel more like Sarah Sanderson.”

“You really want me to throw a rager for your fourteen-year-old?” He didn't know what to say about her Hocus Pocus reference – 'horny and ditzy? Sounds about right' was...probably not the right thing – so he decided to just jump back to the original topic.

She shrugged. “I honestly don't know what to do for her. Coming back here was her idea, but I kinda doubt it had much to do with her birthday. She wasn't kidding about wondering which one of us is the parent; that kid's been trying to take care of me since she was little.”

“Why?”

Sighing, she stepped back out of his arms. She looked so sad and broken suddenly that he wished he'd never asked. “I would love to say that it's just who she is – and it is, to a point. Some people are just natural caregivers, and Maddie's definitely one of them. But I was a mess before Liss was born. Maddie's had to deal with a lot of bullshit, and it made her grow up too fast.”

That settled it in Mickey's mind. As he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket with one hand and opened the bedroom door with the other, he told her again, “She's getting a fucking party.”

Three hours and a lot of yelling at Agryris to get him to stop laughing later, he was setting up speakers in front of his apartment building, surrounded by what looked like every kid in Athens between twelve and sixteen, along with their parents. It definitely wasn't his usual crowd, to say the least, but they were friendly enough. Most importantly, Madeline was already smiling and laughing.

Remembering the posters he'd seen around town, he pulled his phone out again and called a number he hadn't used in quite a while. “Well, well. So you're in Athens. What do you know? I have a favor to ask you...”

“OHMYGOD! BASTIAN!”

Mickey grinned. Clearly, he'd made the right call, and it was earning him hugs galore. For the first time all day, Madeline was acting like a teenage girl, bouncing up and down and screeching with joy as Bastian made her way through the party. With a bright smile, she hugged the birthday girl and smoothed her dark curls back off of her face before approaching Mickey and hugging him. The second she moved back, Madeline launched herself at him, squeezing so tightly he thought she might crack a few ribs. And then her laughing mother replaced her, and he'd never felt so popular.

“Hell of a dad move,” Beck teased, grinning at him as she stepped aside and Maddie barreled into him again.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!”

Laughing, Mickey lifted her up and kissed the top of her head. “Happy birthday.” She was too light; idly, he made a mental note to ask what the hell Beck and her sister were feeding these kids, or failing to feed them. Then he realized he sort of was acting like Maddie's dad and he blushed, setting her down.

As she ran off to dance with her little sister, he pulled Bastian up onto the platform and picked up the mic. “First of all – let's hear it for the birthday girl!” He pointed, and grinned when the revelers around him cheered, making the brunette blush. “Maddie O'Brien! You said you have no friends back in the States-” Boos echoed around them, and her color deepened. “-So I thought, what could make a better birthday present than a couple hundred Greek friends?”

The crowd cheered again, and a few “YEAH, MADDIE” shouts made the girl in question laugh, covering her face with the hand not holding tight to Alice's little wrist. Mickey noticed that she did that a lot; whenever the younger girl wasn't in her mother's arms, she was in her sister's tight, protective grip.

“What do you guys think?” He shouted into the mic. “This girl's really cool, right? You wanna be Maddie's friends, and show her how much better everything is here in Greece?”

The cheers were deafening. Mickey was grinning like a fool, and was pleased to see that so was Madeline. Big blue eyes shining, she stared up at him like he was her hero, and for a minute, life was pretty damn good. He'd die before admitting it aloud, at least so soon, but he could easily see a bright, happy future where he was stepdad to these two beautiful little girls, and they doted over their step-brother Hector, the way Maddie doted over Alice. He glanced at their mother, and couldn't help getting just a little choked up when he saw an identical look of joy and appreciation on her beautiful face. Man, it was nice to be the hero.

Before he could get too emotional and ruin the party, he pointed to Bastian. “You guys know who this is, right?” Another enthusiastic roar; he was a little jealous this time, but shoved it down and smiled. “Well, she's gonna take over for a little while, so make sure you give her some love, alright?”

Yanking her into one more tight hug, he handed the reins over to Bastian and hopped down. Beck immediately threw her arms around him and kissed him. “You are amazing, you know that? I descend on you unannounced with a grouchy teenager in tow, and you give her the best fucking night of her life!”

“All in a day's work,” he joked, squeezing her. “She seems like a great kid; they both do. I couldn't just do nothing and let her be miserable.”

“Hector is lucky.” She was grinning so wide, her face hurt; Mickey only knew because he was doing the same. “He's got a really great dad. If you'd do something like this for a kid you've never even met before, I can only imagine the lengths you'd go to for your own.”

“Think you can pass that praise on to my ex? Maybe she'll actually let me see him.”

Smile fading, she gripped his head with both hands and pulled him down to press their foreheads together. “If you want me to, I'll help you fight for him. You deserve to see your son, and he deserves to know his dad.”

“How long are you staying this time?” He didn't want to talk about Hector suddenly; not at a party surrounded by strangers and their children.

Seeming to sense his mood, Beck smiled and glanced at her giggling daughters. They were hopping around like lunatics to the music, surrounded by kids Maddie's age. She looked like she was having the time of her life. “From the looks of things now? Forever.” Mickey thought she was joking, but the look on her face stopped him from laughing it off. “I've never seen her so happy. Athens might just become home.”

“I hope so.” He shrugged, forcing a chipper smile to hide the desperately hopeful one he couldn't quite keep in. “It did for me!”

“We'll see.”

Unlike most of the parties he'd worked, this one started winding down fairly early as kids hugged Maddie, wished her a happy birthday, and were ushered home by their tired parents. Alice was asleep in Mickey's arms, her tiny body limp as a rag doll and her silky black curls tickling his nose. As the last of her party guests wished her well and left, Madeline hurried over to him and cuddled up to the side not currently occupied by the dead weight of her sister.

“Thank you, Mickey.”

“Did you have fun?” She nodded, and he smiled softly, stroking her dark hair. “Good. Let's get inside and get the little one into bed, shall we?”

She glanced around, frowning a little. “Where's mom?”

“Already upstairs.” Grinning, he watched her for a reaction and added casually, “With Bastian.”

Bright blue eyes widening, she gaped at him. “She's staying?”

Mickey laughed. “For tonight, at least, yeah. Come on.”

As they trudged through the door of his apartment a few minutes later, Mickey found himself wishing he'd stayed outside.

“No way!” Beck whipped around to gape at him while Bastian laughed. “You didn't tell me you were in a band!”

“Oh lord,” Madeline grumbled under her breath. “Get something pierced and she'll propose to you by midnight, I swear.”

Choking on a startled laugh, he lowered Alice into her sister's waiting arms. “Put her in Hector's bed. You and your mom can take mine tonight.” As she obediently wandered down the hall to tuck the younger girl in, Mickey flopped down on the couch beside Beck and tugged her into his arms. “That was a long time ago. Then she got her big break and got all famous, and she didn't need losers like me anymore.”

“Oh, that is such bullshit!” Laughing, Bastian stretched out to kick him. “We got a break. We got a deal. You were every bit a part of all that!”

“Oh, please!” Mickey rolled his eyes. “You never needed me. It was the Bastian Show, and we were just-”

“No! No, what happened was...”

They bickered for a while, going back and forth over who was to blame for Saint Claude's ultimate demise. After a few minutes, Beck excused herself and left the room, leaving the two old friends to catch up. When the argument showed no signs of ending, Mickey huffed and stood up, muttering something about getting a drink as he walked away. He loved Bastian, but damn she could be stubborn!

“What the fuck are you doing?” A glass in each hand, he stared at her as she laid out lines of cocaine on her phone's screen.

“What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?”

“Oh, god.” He grimaced, glancing toward the bedrooms. All quiet, but he didn't know if Beck and Maddie were asleep, or just hiding from the debate. “Come on, let's go in the bathroom.”

“The Brat Pack's asleep. Don't worry about it!”

“You don't know that,” he hissed. “Come on.”

Bastian rolled her eyes, but she allowed him to usher her into the bathroom. “You're paranoid. You barely even know these people! What do you care what they think?”

“I care,” he snapped, though he didn't refuse when she offered him a line. He'd just finished, was still hunched over the phone, when the door opened and he was faced with, basically, his worst nightmare: Madeline was standing in the doorway, hand on the knob.

They both froze, staring at her like deer in headlights. Face completely expressionless, Maddie looked at each of them, then at the line of cocaine still on the phone, and then straight at Mickey. "I just wanted to thank you again for today." Without another word, she calmly turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Shit." Ignoring Bastian's drug-fueled giggle fit, Mickey was on his feet and chasing after the teen in a flash. "Maddie!"

Though her face was still a stony mask, there were tears in her eyes when she whirled around to face him. "I need to talk to you. Now."

"Okay." He gestured to the couch, but she shook her head.

"Outside. I don't wanna wake up mom or Alice."

Nodding, he followed her without another word. At first he'd thought she meant out in the hall, but she didn't stop until they were outside the building. "Maddie, listen-"

"Let her go." Mickey's heart broke when she turned to face him again. Tears running down her cheeks and lower lip trembling, she stared up at him with those huge blue eyes and he almost started crying with her. "You have to let her go. Mom's loyal even when she shouldn't be. She'll never break it off."

"Maddie, I don't want-"

"I only exist because my dad drugged and raped her!" Wiping furiously at her face while he shrank back in horror, she continued more calmly, "She doesn't know I know that, or that he tried to kidnap me a bunch of times when I was little. Auntie told me. She still stayed with him for almost a year. Will hit her, Owen was a toxic psycho, Alex was a racist jerk... Alice's dad was always really nice to us all when he came around, but he almost never did. And I don't know what he did, but he's in jail for life now." With a bitter grimace, she spat, "And you're a druggie."

Maddie's had to deal with a lot of bullshit, and it made her grow up too fast.

Beck's soft voice, so full of pain and regret, echoed in his head as Mickey sank down to sit on the steps and tugged Madeline into his arms. "I'm not a druggie," he assured her as she clung to him and broke down sobbing. "One time thing, kiddo, I promise."

"Like you'd say anything else!"

The little whimper that escaped her as she scooted up his leg to get closer and dropped her head onto his shoulder very nearly made him start crying with her. For all that she insisted he get the hell out of her life, he could tell that she was desperate for someone decent to stay. This poor kid was fourteen going on forty after watching her mom date a string of losers; no wonder she had no faith in men, or in her mother's ability to make sound decisions. He squeezed her a little tighter, not sure what to do or say.

"Mickey, I'm tired," she croaked, making his heart ache for her even more. He knew she didn't mean sleepy; she was tired of being the mature one, and he couldn't say he blamed her. "I'm so tired..."

"Shhh, it's okay, baby," he whispered, rubbing her back. "You can rest now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. You're my little girl now, okay? And I won't let anything happen to you, or your sister, or your mom. You don't have to take care of her anymore, honey. I will. You just take a breath and be a kid while you can."

"How can I trust you?"

Well, that hurt, but he got where she was coming from. Pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, he murmured, "I gotta earn that." He pried her loose and pushed her back a little, just enough to be able to look her in the eye. "Do you think you can give me a chance to?"

After a pause that felt like an eternity, Maddie sniffled and nodded. "Okay. But if you hurt her, I'll kick your nuts back up inside."

Laughing, Mickey nodded and smoothed her hair back. "Noted.” A thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Why did you aunt tell you all that? Putting that weight on a kid... That's cruel.”

“I asked,” she admitted with a shrug. “I asked why mom was such a mess, and why I didn't have a dad. So she told me.”

I'd have made some shit up, damn. Even high, he was smart enough not to say that. He chose not to say anything at all, and just held her for a while as the cool night air soothed their frayed nerves and her breathing slowly returned to normal.

“Mickey?”

“Hm?”

Voice a small, timid whisper, she asked, “Do you really wanna be my dad?”

Smiling softly, he kissed her head again and hugged her just a bit tighter. “I am your dad.” When she tensed and let out a frustrated huff, he explained, “I'm in love with your mom, kiddo. And I already love you and your sister. We're family now, and I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

“You're weird.” He could hear her teasing smile in her voice, and he smiled, too, relieved. “You don't even know us.”

“I know enough. Come on.” Though all he wanted was to sit there and cuddle with her all night, he gently pushed her off his lap and stood. “It's getting late. You should get to bed.”

Sending her off down the hall to his bedroom when they got back upstairs, he collapsed on the couch and sighed. He'd known when he met her that Beck would make his life more interesting... he just had no idea how interesting.

A laugh beside him reminded him of his other guest and he reluctantly opened his eyes. Judging from the way she was twitching and snickering, Bastian had finished the rest of the coke. “That was intense!”

Mickey closed his eyes again. “If it's not already gone, get that shit out of my house.”

“Oh, come on!” She shoved him, grinning impishly. “Don't try to act all virtuous now! You were right there with me, until that kid walked in.”

“'That kid'?” Annoyed now, he sat up and glared at her. “My kid.”

“Not really, though.” Confused, she twisted to glance down the hall, and then back to stare at him. “...Right? I mean, shit, she does kinda look like you...”

He shook his head. “No. Biologically, no, but I don't care. I'm not gonna add my name to the list of guys who've hurt her.”

Bastian snorted, rolling her eyes. “Mickey, you can't just decide to play daddy to this random kid on a whim just because your ex won't let you see your own. She's not yours, and changing your whole life and personality isn't going to change that.”

“I haven't touched that shit in years. I'm not changing on a whim; you just don't know me anymore.”

“Enough,” she challenged, settling back in her seat and staring down her nose at him. “I know you well enough to know this is never gonna work.”

“What isn't?”

“This!” Bastian gestured vaguely around them. “This whole self-domestication shit. You're not some house husband and stepdad – you're a musician. You belong on the road, Mickey! Not shut up in some old lady's apartment playing House with some crazy chick and her walking, talking reminders of past mistakes.”

“Beck,” he snapped, glaring at her. “'That chick's' name is Beck, and her gorgeous daughters are Maddie and Alice. They're not mistakes. Alice is adorable and so smart, and Maddie is fucking awesome and she's been through Hell. I haven't seen you in years and you think you're gonna sit here in my house and tell me who I am and what I want? I don't fucking think so, Bastian.”

“Alright, alright!” She held up her hands in surrender, eyes wide. “Chill. I just miss you, okay? I want you to come on tour with me, like the old days, not sit here and rot away in some mediocre domestic life. You could have so much more!”

Mickey sighed, staring off into space for a moment. Some part of him was drawn to her offer, but that wasn't him anymore. He didn't actually want to tour with her, he just hated feeling settled; at some point in his wild youth, stability had begun to feel like stagnation, and now he found himself often desperate to avoid it, even if it came with everything he truly wanted.

He thought about Beck, and her bright smile and her two beautiful, lonely daughters, and he thought about Hector. Beck had been spot-on; as much as he did love Greece, Mickey had really only stayed this long because of his son. He wanted to be in Hector's life. Now he wanted to be in Maddie and Alice's lives, too. He wanted a family.

And for the first time, he was willing to fight for that family.

“You're right,” he admitted slowly. “You're right, I've been hiding here, just floating around aimlessly.” Before she could get all triumphant, he stood and growled, “But that's not what I'm doing now. Now, I'm finally seeing a life that I want, and I'll be damned if I'll let anyone take it away from me.”

That said, he walked away without giving Bastian a chance to argue. He peeked into his son's room to check on Alice, smiled when he saw the way she was sprawled, half hanging off the bed, and he quietly closed the door and headed to his own room. Hopefully Maddie wouldn't mind; he'd originally intended to crash on the couch, but he couldn't stand to be in the same room as Bastian, and couldn't quite bring himself to kick her out, either. Moving slowly, so as to avoid waking either of the bed's other two occupants, he slid in next to Beck.

She immediately rolled over and cuddled close to him. At first he thought she was just fidgeting in her sleep, but then she whispered, “Don't let anyone change you or tell you who you are. Not even me.”

“I won't.” He tried to smile, couldn't quite manage it, and kissed her, instead. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

It wasn't quite a seamless transition. Mickey's place was too small for a family of four, and he didn't exactly love the idea of moving a bunch of heavy audio equipment down those winding stairs. Though he wanted to jump right into living together, he didn't put up much of a fight when Beck started looking for her own place.

It helped that she didn't spend a lot of time at home. Once the girls were enrolled in school, their mother started dropping them off and then going straight to Mickey's place. She helped Argyris translate for Mickey and his clients, which both men had thought was a terrible idea... until they saw her in action. The short fuse he'd become so familiar with in their first couple of days together was nowhere to be found. Around even his most difficult clients, Beck was the embodiment of charm and professional courtesy. Mickey quickly found that while Argyris was better for direct translation, he was no match for Beck when it came to diplomacy and deescalating a heated argument.

“You haven't seen 'difficult',” she teased, “until you've been a woman in a male-dominated field arguing for funding. This is nothing.”

Mickey laughed, yanking her into his arms. “Where have you been all my life?”

She flinched, closing her eyes and pressing her fingertips to her mouth for a second. It was the briefest of moments, and then she was smiling again and joking, “On my knees in the dirt, mostly,” but he refused to ignore it.

“You okay?”

With a little shrug and a nod, she admitted, “Been a little queasy and lightheaded lately, but I'm fine. It never lasts long.”

“You are so American.” She glared at him and he grinned, pleased that he knew how to get her attention. “You're not in Dystopia anymore – go to a doctor.”

“Did you not hear me? I'm fi-”

“I heard 'lately,'” he countered, poking her side and immediately regretting it when she cringed. Right; queasy. Maybe don't mess with her stomach, Mickey. “'Lately' means this is not normal. It means you're sick, so go to a doctor.”

She shook her head, winced, and dropped it onto his shoulder. “I don't need a doctor.”

“You can't even move without turning green.”

“I'm fine. I don't need a doctor.”

“Why are you being so stubborn? You're supposed to help me with stubborn people, not be the Queen of them!”

“Am I your girlfriend or your lawyer?”

“That's not what I meant and you know it. Don't change the subject.” Rubbing her back, he insisted as gently as he could, “Please just go get checked out.”

“I don't need to. I'm fine.”

“Look, even if it's minor, do you wanna suffer or find out what's wrong and get better?”

“I don't need a doctor to tell me what I already know!”

What she already knew? He frowned, more confused than ever. “Is it some kind of chronic-”

“Mickey, I'm not sick – I'm pregnant!”

He froze, gaping at her in shock. She started to pull away, but he tightened his grip on her waist before she could stand up. “You're what?”

Looking nervous and uncomfortable, she mumbled, “I was trying to find the right time to tell you; we've just been so busy with that 'make it more Greek' asshat...”

“You're really pregnant?” When she slowly and carefully nodded, Mickey grinned and hugged her as tight as he dared. “That's fantastic!” He finally let her up, only to stand with her and frame her face with both hands. Between frantic kisses all over her face, he gushed, “That's incredible! Have you told the girls yet? Oh, Alice is gonna be so excited to be a big sister! And Hector! I can't wait for Hector to meet his little brother or sister!”

“Mickey...”

He glanced around, smile dimming just a bit. “Damn, we gotta get a bigger place.”

“Mickey.”

“I wonder if Agryris' grandmother had-”

“Mickey!” Shoving his hands away, Beck got a tight grip on his hair and forced him to turn back to face her. “Do you really think we can do this?”

He blinked, taken aback by that. “Don't you?”

“Three kids, and fighting for joint custody of a fourth?” She shook her head, looking at him like he was an idiot. “The thought that we might be in over our heads crossed my mind, yeah. I was struggling with just two!”

“Well, now you have me.” His cheeky grin didn't seem to comfort her as much as he'd hoped it would. “You were struggling 'cause you were alone; now you're not.”

“A single mom with two kids really isn't all that different from two parents with four,” she pointed out, releasing his hair and crossing her arms over her chest. Seeing the hurt he tried to mask, she sighed. “Look, I'm glad you're excited, I am. And whether we're ready or not, the kid's on the way, I just... I just wish I shared your optimism. I'm not excited, Mickey; I'm scared to death.”

“Well, get excited,” he jokingly commanded, pulling her close for another hug. “We'll be fine. Besides, it's not like Aspa's ever gonna give me full custody, so it's not really two to four. Maddie's old enough that she doesn't need constant hyper-vigilance from us, so it's really just two to two-and-a-half.”

Finally, finally, Beck laughed. It was quiet and weak, but a laugh nonetheless. “Jesus, you're like sunshine in human form. Does anything ever get you down?”

He shrugged. “Sure, but I try not to let it for long. And I see a new baby as something to celebrate, not freak the hell out over.”

“See, you get to see it that way because you don't have to push it out,” she teased. “It's not so perfectly sunny from where I'm standing.”

“No one said life is perfect.” Still smiling like a fool, he kissed her. “Whatever you need, I'm here. You're not doing everything alone anymore. We got this.”

“I love you.”

It didn't seem possible, but somehow his smile got even wider. “I love you, too.”

“Speaking of Aspa, though...”

“Oh, god, what?”

With a laugh and an apologetic smile, Beck ventured, “I don't think you should come today.”

“What?”

Her smile immediately faded; apparently, he was really bad at hiding it when he was confused and offended. “Baby, you're chaos incarnate. It's one of the things I love about you, but it's not exactly conducive to a civilized conversation with a woman who probably kind of hates you.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I just think I might have better luck getting through to her, single mom to single mom.” She looked like she was waiting for him to hit her, which only made him feel worse. “I know how hard it is, and how, whether we mean to or not, we tend to villainize our exes-”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, well, with the stellar guys you've dated, it makes sense. It's not really villainizing if he's already a villain.”

“Exactly how much did Madeline tell you?”

Uh-oh. She was mad. Knowing he was in trouble no matter what and refusing to drag his stepdaughter down with him, Mickey hastily changed the subject. “Do you really think I'll fuck things up that badly if I go?” Why was he even asking? Offended or not, he knew she was right; Aspa hated his guts.

Thankfully, Beck let the dig about her exes drop and her steely expression melted back into one of gentle sympathy. “I just want you to have the best chance possible of getting to be an active part of Hector's life. I want him to know you, to sleep in that bed you bought him before he outgrows it, to meet his new sisters. And I think your feelings towards Aspa, and hers toward you, are probably too raw and volatile right now for a face-to-face meeting to be a good idea.”

“Alright.” Forcing a faint smile, he nodded. “Alright, go. You've got a point.”

“I'll tell you all about it when I get back, okay?” She promised with an equally strained smile, kissing his cheek.

“Can't wait.”

When she came back a little while later, she was laughing. Mickey's hopes that it meant things had gone better than expected were dashed, though, when she managed to gasp out, “She really hates you!”

“Yeah, thanks.” He shook his head. “I knew that much.”

“I'm sorry.” Still giggling, Beck wound her arms around his waist. “She was just such a bitch. I kinda respect the hell out of her.”

“What did she say?”

“That you're a baby,” she dutifully recited, “and you're irresponsible, unreliable...”

“Why is this funny?!”

“Because, Mickey... Mickey, honey...” Framing his face like he had to her earlier, she told him, “It's nothing I didn't already know. You're flighty and you're a big kid; this isn't news. She was floored that I love you anyway, and my god, the look on her face when I went off about how that childishness is what makes you such a good dad, and you're great with the girls... I haven't been able to stop laughing since! Pretty sure she hates me now, too.”

“Great!” Failing to see the humor, Mickey jerked free of her light grasp and moved away, beginning to pace the room. “So instead of helping, you just alienated her from us both!”

“We're going to see him on Saturday.”

“What?” He spun to stare at her; she wasn't laughing anymore. “Are you serious?”

Looking rather proud of herself, she nodded. “Supervised by Aspa, of course, but yep. You get to spend time with your son, and I finally get to meet him. It doesn't matter what she thinks of either of us, as long as she can see that you give a shit; that we're safe to be around Hector, and can be trusted to think of him first. Show her how much you love him, that even childish and flaky you can be reliable, that you want to be reliable, and a supervised visit might turn into father-son weekends, without your ex underfoot.”

“I... wha... how...?”

She shrugged, smiling faintly. “Mother to mother. We came to an understanding.”

Overwhelmed by emotions he couldn't even identify, Mickey closed the distance between them and lifted her up. “I fucking love you, you know that?”

Beaming as he set her down, Beck leaned in for a kiss. “I love you, too, baby.”

“That's not cute anymore.” Despite his protests, he was grinning as he backed her toward the bedroom. “Now I just feel like you're calling me a baby. That sucks. Don't do that.”

“I'll call you what I want,” she teased, pulling him down for another kiss. “And you can't stop me!”

With a hand on her belly, he joked, “How about you call me 'daddy'?”

“No.” She laughed and shook her head. “I physically cannot do that. I'll puke.”

“Well, morning sickness is pretty common.”

“No, this is pure disgust.”

They were both laughing now as they reached the bed; he almost playfully shoved her back, but then remembered the baby and thought better of it. Instead, he flopped across it himself and beckoned for her to join him. “We're gonna be okay, you know.”

Beck winced as she settled gingerly on the edge of the bed. “It's just such bad timing. I don't...”

“Hey.” He tugged at her arm until she stretched out beside him, and wound his arms around her. “It's all gonna be okay. No matter what life throws at us, we'll deal with it together, okay? I want this baby. I know you want this baby. The rest is just details.”

“Pretty big fucking details. I was supposed to go to Mongolia next month.”

“Then go.” God, he didn't want her to, but he was determined to show her that they could be together, be a family, without completely derailing her life. When she looked at him like he'd lost it, he gave her a bland 'are you kidding' look right back. “You're not really gonna try to convince me that you weren't still going on digs when you were pregnant with Alice, are you?”

She blushed. “My team didn't know...”

“So don't tell them this time, either.”

“Mickey...” Pushing his arms away, she sat up. “You really have no idea how physically demanding my work is, do you? I almost lost Alice.”

For a second, he floundered, wondering what the hell to do or say. Then he brightened and sat up, as well. “You speak a million languages; just work as a translator until you're safe to go back out into the field.”

“...I do love it,” she conceded, making him perk up. “And maybe I can finally teach you some Greek so you can talk to your son more easily.”

Mickey chuckled. “I'm not getting out of that, am I?”

“Nope.” She grinned and settled back against his chest as he leaned against the headboard. “Not until we're both fluent.”

“Alright, I'm in.” He smiled, kissing her jaw and lacing their fingers together. “New home for us, new job for you, learning a new language...”

“New baby on the way.”

“New baby on the way,” he parroted, pressing their linked hands to her belly. “New chapter.”

“Here's to a new life.”

Mickey nodded and leaned down for a proper kiss, murmuring against her lips, “Together.”

#monday 2021 #monday movie #fanfiction #fix it fic #mickey henry #mickey/oc #i really really hate chloe #so much #omfg

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Drops of Jupiter - Part Two

Summary: A story about how one extremely unassuming person became the most important person you had ever met. And then he broke your heart. And then you broke his. Only fair, right?

Word Count: 11k, I AM SO SORRY someone take google docs away from me

Rating: 18+

Warnings: dash of fluff, dash of angst, dash of smut, little of everything my friends

A/N: surprise! almost three months later, and we’re finally back with part two. this monster is going to be at LEAST another two parts. maybe three? we’ll see how wordy i get. i hope you guys enjoy. taglist is still open :)

As soon as you heard the comforting sound of the door clicking, you let out a shaky breath and dropped all of your clothes onto the floor. You glanced at yourself in the mirror; you were quite a sight. Stark naked, hair a mess. You looked absolutely fucked out. Your pussy throbbed with arousal, contracting around nothing. You took a deeper breath and attempted to put yourself together, the distant voices of Joe interacting with your other friends downstairs bringing you back to reality. Once you were as satisfied as you could be (considering you hadn’t been satisfied in that way), you made your way downstairs in what felt like a weird version of the walk of shame.

Joe, Rob, and the rest of the condo’s inhabitants were congregating in the kitchen when you made your awkward entrance.

“Sorry for the cockblock,” Rob said with a chuckle, causing you to roll your eyes. He always did lack a filter.

“It’s okay,” you answered with a shrug. “We’ll just fuck in your bed to make up for it.” Joe threw his head back and let out a deep belly laugh and you beamed. Any time you could make him laugh felt like a victory. Rob rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Still earning that nickname, Miss Chaos,” Rob countered with a smirk. You shook your head, trying to hide your grin while flipping him off.

“Well,” you said, slapping both hands down on the kitchen counter. “I still feel like shit from being fucking drugged and I haven’t eaten yet. So if you will all excuse me.” You shot Joe a quick glance, curious to see how he’d react, before heading towards the front door.

“I’m pretty hungry, too,” came Joe’s voice from behind you and you grinned at your success. Once you had both made it to the hallway, his arm snaked around your back to grip your hip and pull you into him. You giggled as your bodies bumped together as you walked. “Pizza?”

“Pizza.”

The two of you wandered down the street in search of the pizza place your group often frequented when everyone was in town. Once you reached your destination, you each ordered a slice and took a seat at a small table in the corner.

“Hey remember that time we tried to have sex in the condo and then everyone got back and we had to stop?” Joe asked sarcastically. You chuckled and rolled your eyes, gently kicking him under the table.

“Yeah, I remember it like it was yesterday. Or maybe less than an hour ago,” you replied with a wink. Joe grinned back at you, and, fuck, there wasn’t a more beautiful sight than that man’s smile. You could stare at his face for hours.

“Well, here we are,” he countered. “Fully clothed. Completely sober. Not a roofie in sight.” You cringed and he noticed. “Too soon?” You chuckled.

“Considering it hasn’t even been twenty four hours, I’d say so,” you replied.

“What I’m trying to say is this is the first time we’ve been alone with no distractions,” Joe explained. You arched an eyebrow, curious as to where he was going with this. “So tell me about yourself.”

So you did. You told him about your family back in your home state. You talked about your job and told horror stories about customers you’d encountered. You complained about your roommate. You gushed about your favorite movies and tv shows. All the while, Joe listened. Like, actually listened. He asked questions and laughed along at your jokes. He brought up things that he had seen you post on social media over the past year and you were surprised he had remembered. His eyes lit up every time he learned something new. It felt different…you felt like you could be yourself with no hesitation. Nothing holding you back. It was freeing.

Then it was his turn. He passionately ranted about his life back home. He hated his job but it paid the bills. He was close with his family and had a ride-or-die group of friends he always got into trouble with. He dreamed of traveling the world, a passion instilled in him by his great aunt. He loved video games and his guilty pleasure was reality tv shows.

You were lost in him, transfixed on every word he said. You wanted to listen to him talk for hours and hours and hours. And you quickly realized you had. The pizza had long been eaten, the table long since cleared. The two of you decided to start heading back to the condo to see what the game plan was for the rest of the evening. But you didn’t want him to stop.

“Finish your story,” you requested, nudging him in the shoulder as you began your walk back to your building.

“Oh come on, I’m sure you’ve gotta be tired of me talking by now,” Joe replied, nudging you back. You chuckled and shook your head.

“Not in the slightest.” In fact, you’d never get tired of him talking. You barely watched where you were walking, you were so captivated by him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way his hands never stopped moving as he spoke. The way he got excited whenever you’d ask a question he could answer.

By the time the two of you walked through the front door of your condo, he was excitedly recounting a story from his recent trip to Thailand. The two of you plopped down on your bed as he pulled out his phone, showing you picture after picture of the places he saw and the people he had met.

It suddenly occurred to you what made him so enrapturing. His passion. The man was so goddamn passionate. He was passionate in the way he told stories, so animated and full of life. He was passionate in the way he had kissed you, holding you close and giving it his all. He was just passionate about life. It was both attractive and inspiring. You’d never met someone so fervent and free in your entire life.

And that’s when you knew you were fucked.

No longer was this a hookup between friends, a quick little summer fling to tide you over. You had caught feelings. And as the man in front of you enthusiastically detailed his experiences in Phuket, a slight sadness overcame you. Because in a few days time, this man -- this beautiful, clever, funny, and passionate man -- would board a plane back home. And you wouldn’t see him for another year.

You were so fucked.

The sound of the front door opening brought you out of your trance. You both turned to see Dan and Matt entering, each holding a snow cone. Dan’s face immediately hardened at the sight of Joe. You jumped to your feet in an instant, passing by a confused Matt and grabbing Dan’s arm, pulling him out into the hallway with you and slamming the door behind you.

“I thought I made it clear that he was not welcome--”

“He didn’t do it,” you cut in, shutting him up. “I promise you he didn’t. There was another guy at the bar who did it. I’m certain of it.” Dan was still tense, a frown taking up residence on his face. You adored Dan. As the oldest of your friends, he had accidentally become the leader of the crew. He booked the condo, organized airport pickups, and attempted to rally your friends for group outings when he could. He was your big brother essentially, and you knew he cared about you. He had met Joe last year when you did, so who could blame him for not trusting his character? He didn’t really know him. You hadn’t before now.

“I just--” he began, taking a breath before continuing. “When I saw him try to get into your bed after you had passed out, I snapped. I didn’t want him to try anything.” You reached out and pulled him into a hug, being careful to mind the melting snow cone he still had in his hand.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” you replied before pulling away and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “I appreciate you. But Joe is one of the good ones.” Dan let out a sigh. 

“He still needs to sleep in his own bed,” he argued. “But his ban has been lifted.” You enveloped him in another hug, this time forgetting about the snow cone. You squealed as some of the blue liquid dripped onto your skin and finally Dan broke, laughing at your reaction. You nodded towards the door, and the two of you rejoined the rest of your friends who were huddled around the living room, chatting about who knows what.

A hush fell over the room as you and Dan made your entrance.

“Hey, Joe,” Dan said, breaking the awkward silence. He nodded toward the hallway you had just come from. “Wanna chat?”

Joe shot you a look, almost as if he was asking if it was safe. You smiled and nodded, signalling that things were good. 

“Yeah, sure,” Joe replied with a slight smile, getting to his feet and following Dan out, but not before giving your hand a quick squeeze as he passed. The touch brought that same heat to your chest you’d been feeling since that first night. Fuck, you wanted him. No, needed him. You two needed to find a way to get privacy while he was here or you were going to burst.

✧✧✧

After grabbing dinner as one big group at a nearby Mexican restaurant, everyone voted to skip the normal nighttime itinerary of heading out to the bars. What with your...incident...and the fact that everyone was exhausted from the first two nights of partying, the group agreed that it was better to have a relaxing night-in.

So you did what a huge group of nerds looking for a calm night-in did best: grabbed every blanket and pillow you could find, made a giant cuddle puddle in the living room, and queued up The Fellowship of the Ring.

You ended up sandwiched between Kayla and Joe on the couch, snuggled under a cozy blanket with a giant bowl of popcorn on your lap. As you watched the movie, passing around the popcorn amongst your friends, you found yourself sneaking peeks at Joe out of the corner of your eye every once in a while. How he could be so effortlessly good-looking clad in a plain t-shirt made absolutely no sense. You noticed him shift slightly and you snuck a peek at him again, only to be met with him looking directly at you with a smile. You felt your face heat up, knowing you had been caught. Joe simply rolled his bottom lip through his teeth and winked at you. And just when you thought your body’s temperature couldn’t increase anymore, you felt Joe’s hand come to a rest on your thigh under the blanket. Fuck, it took every fiber of your being not to jump his bones right then and there. But you kept your composure, letting the man trace gentle shapes across your skin with his thumb. And none of your friends were the wiser.

You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep until you felt movement next to you, bringing you back to reality. You had dozed off on Joe’s shoulder, who himself had fallen asleep as well, his hand still resting on your thigh. The movement turned out to be Kayla getting up to move to her bed, and you quickly noticed most of the room had emptied out. You turned towards the slumbering Joe and smiled. God, he was even gorgeous while he was sleeping. You reached up and gently caressed his stubble.

“Hey, you,” you said softly, trying not to startle him. His eyes blinked rapidly a few times as he took in his surroundings before settling on you and smiling.

“Hey, beautiful,” he replied, sending instant heat to your cheeks. How he managed to continue to fluster you, you’d never know. You pinched his cheek, causing him to crinkle his face at the action.

“Bedtime?”

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea.”

You stood up first, offering a hand to Joe and yanking him to his feet. He glanced around the room for a few moments, almost as if he was looking for something or someone, and you watched him curiously. When his eyes met yours again, in an instant he slid his arm around you and pulled you into a bruising kiss.

You kissed him back eagerly, a soft moan vibrating through your throat as you slid your hands up his chest. But as fast as he had initiated the kiss he pulled away, staring at you intensely for a moment.

“Walk with me,” he said before grabbing his phone and heading towards the front door. Confused and a tad flustered from the kiss, you followed him obediently, grabbing your own phone and sliding on a pair of flip flops.

Instead of turning left and heading towards his own condo, he turned right and pushed open the door to the stairwell. You had no idea where he was leading you, but of course you were going to follow him. You were right on his heels as he climbed up the steps, passing the other floors of the condo building before leading you to the last door at the top of the staircase, with red letters painted on it: ROOF ACCESS. With a smirk, he opened the door and gestured through it.

“After you.”

Eyeing him with a suspicious look, you passed through the door and out into the night. The warm breeze of the evening hit your skin and you relaxed instantly. You floated over to the railing at the edge of the roof and leaned on it, looking out onto the street below. The city was gorgeous and so full of life. The sounds of cars passing and people enjoying the nightlife echoed below you. You couldn’t help but smile. Joe leaned on the railing right next to you.

“I’m not having sex with you on a dirty rooftop, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you announced, breaking the silence. Joe let out a hearty laugh before placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“As much as I would like to eventually have my way with you,” he replied, sending a chill down your spine at the thought. “I just wanted to talk.”

You turned to look at Joe fully. He truly was breathtaking. The glow of the city lights reflected on his face, painting his skin in blues and pinks and yellows. You wanted to frame the image of him, standing there looking at you like you put the moon in the sky.

“I’ve got two more full days here before I head home,” he said, shattering the illusion. You turned to face the city once again and let out a sigh. Must he bring reality into this? Couldn’t he just be like you and enjoy the moment? Did he have to be so smart and responsible?

“I know,” you answered. “Is that what you brought me up here to tell me?” You raised an eyebrow as you eyed the man next to you. He chuckled at your question.

“I wanted to see...I wanted to ask you…” he paused, trying to find the words. “What happens once I go home? To us?”

You felt your chest tighten. It made your heart soar and break simultaneously. It made you breathe a sigh of relief that he appeared to be feeling the same way you did. He was worried what the future brought because he wanted you, too.

But honestly, you had been dreading this conversation. Not because you knew what you had to say and you didn’t want to say it. No, you weren’t looking forward to this talk because you had no idea what to say. You didn’t want this to end. The selfish part of you wanted to do this for real, to make him yours and let him claim you as his. But long distance was complicated and messy. You had done it before and it had ended poorly, and that guy had only lived an hour from you. Joe lived over 700 miles away. A two-hour plane trip. A fucking fourteen-hour car ride. That was the kind of relationship that took a lot of work.

And to make that commitment to someone you had only just started something with? It seemed crazy. Unrealistic.

But to say goodbye and end whatever the two of you were doing outright? It hurt to think about.

However there was always the third option: decide not to decide.

“How about this?” you began, immediately capturing Joe’s attention. “How about we enjoy ourselves the next two days? And then when you go home, we can just…take it a day at a time. We don’t make any commitments but we don’t end things altogether. We just...see where the wind takes us.”

Joe studied you for a moment, as if he was trying to get a read on you. Trying to see if there was anything underlying in your proposal. He took a step forward and reached for you, his hands settling on the exposed skin just above your shorts. You instinctively let your arms wrap around his torso as well, pulling him as close to you as you could.

“Sounds like a plan,” he practically whispered before placing a kiss on your forehead. You leaned up and placed a hand on his cheek, bringing his lips to yours. 

Something about this kiss was different. While most of your other kisses had been fiery and passionate, exchanged in the heat of the moment, this one was slow and delicate. Like you were taking your time and memorizing the feeling of each other’s lips, knowing you had a finite number of kisses remaining.

You didn’t stay too much longer on the roof, the pair of you completely exhausted. As you both made your way back to the door to the building, Joe’s hand found yours, interlacing his fingers and squeezing. He held your hand all the way back down the stairs to your floor. As you approached the door to your condo, he brought your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight.”

You quietly slipped into the condo, knowing that everyone was probably asleep. As you collapsed on your bed, the events of the past three days ran through your head like a highlight reel. As each memory played back, you couldn’t help but think about Joe. In just three days he had woven his way into your life like no one else had before. And you couldn’t be happier.

You drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face, thinking of nothing but the beautiful man two doors down. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about you, too.

✧✧✧

Not waking up with a hangover was a marvelous thing. For the first time since the week began, you actually felt refreshed and ready to conquer the day.

But you were also insanely horny.

Not only had Joe invaded your life in the best way possible (you weren’t complaining by any means), but last night he had also invaded your dreams. Before you woke up, you had been enjoying an extremely arousing vision where Joe’s face had taken up permanent residence between your thighs.

And now you were determined to make that reality.

As you showered and got ready for the day, you wracked your brain for a way to get him alone without the worry of your friends interrupting you. You were exiting the bathroom, headed downstairs to hear what the plan was for the day, when you were greeted with a series of loud cheers.

“HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY, MOTHER FUCKERS!” Matt’s booming voice rang out throughout the entire condo. You chuckled as you descended the stairs into the living room.

“Excited are we?” you jested as you plopped down on the couch.

“Fuck yeah! Let’s blow some shit up tonight!” Nick added, pumping his first into the air.

“Considering we’re in the middle of the city, I think we should just let the experts take care of the fireworks,” Kayla countered with a laugh as she took the seat next to you.

“So do we have a gameplan for the day?” you asked as you wrapped your arms around Kayla and pulled her against your chest.

“I was thinking we could go for a swim in the river and then just hang out in the park for the fireworks show later,” Dan replied with a shrug, trying to play it casual as if he hadn’t been planning it all week. The friends that had gathered in the living room all sounded their agreements. You liked the idea yourself until you realized something: you hadn’t packed your bathing suit.

“I’d love to join you guys,” you commented. “But I will have to run up to my apartment to grab my swimsuit.”

And that’s when it clicked. Your apartment. You had a perfectly empty apartment a couple of miles north of the city. That’s how you were going to get your privacy with Joe.

“No worries, we probably won’t be heading there for a few hours,” Dan responded, pulling you from your thoughts. With a nod, you pulled out your phone to shoot Joe a text.

You: Want to go on a short adventure?

His reply was almost instant.

Joe: Should I be afraid?

You: Not at all, haha. I need to run up to my apartment to grab my bathing suit for today. My EMPTY apartment...if you catch my drift.

Joe: Drift definitely caught. I’m on my way over to you.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain your excitement. Almost seconds later there was a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it!” you shouted, way too enthusiastically, completely dropping your attempt to be casual. You yanked the door open to reveal the source of your sexual frustration that morning. He greeted you with a chaste kiss before stepping inside to say hello to the rest of the condo inhabitants. You snatched up your purse, keys, and phone before sliding on your flip flops and grabbing Joe by the wrist.

“We’ll see you guys in an hour or so!” you called over your shoulder as you practically dragged Joe out the door, eager to get on with the day’s events. You let Joe’s arm go but continued to head down the hallway quickly before being pushed against the wall, letting out an “oof” as Joe’s body covered yours.

“You seem to be in a hurry,” he commented, his hands sliding down your sides before settling on your hips. “Got somewhere you need to be?” You keened into his touch as flashes of last night’s dream played across your mind. 

“Just want to get you alone,” you murmured, running your fingernails across his shoulder blades. Your lips connected as he pressed his body firmly against yours. “You trying to get me all riled up? Because I’m already at that point.”

“Oh yeah?” he mumbled into the sensitive skin of your neck. “Already?”

“Might have had a dream about you last night,” you sighed as you slid your hands around his neck to land on his chest. You felt him groan as he pressed his forehead to your chest.

“Okay, as soon as we get to your apartment, you are explaining the dream in detail,” he stated as he pulled away. You chuckled and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his and leading him towards the parking garage.

Before you knew it the two of you were flying down the highway in your car with the windows rolled down, blasting music and singing along. You glanced over at Joe, still amazed at the man’s effortless beauty. He grinned back at you, and you felt that familiar tickle in your stomach. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way about a person.

The song changed and you couldn’t help but smile as one of your favorite songs ever began to play.

Now that she's back in the atmosphere / 

With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey / 

She acts like summer and walks like rain / 

Reminds me that there's a-time to change, hey, hey / 

Since the return of her stay on the moon / 

She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey / 

Hey, hey / 

But tell me did you sail across the sun / 

Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded / 

And that heaven is overrated? / 

Tell me did you fall from a shooting star / 

One without a permanent scar / 

And did you miss me while you were / 

looking for yourself out there? / 

You sang along as you drove, feeling unafraid to belt out the lyrics. While other people sometimes made you feel self-conscious, Joe’s presence simply calmed you, letting you be yourself, free from judgment. You finished singing the pop song just as you pulled into the parking garage of your apartment building.

“I could listen to you sing for hours,” Joe commented as he climbed out of your car. You felt your cheeks warm once again.

“You flatter me,” you replied as you joined him on the other side of the car. You grabbed his hand once again before the two of you headed into your building and down the hall.

“So your roommate won’t be home?” Joe clarified as you both made your way towards your apartment door.

“Nah, she’s always at her boyfriend’s,” you explained as you came to a stop in front of your door, sliding your key into the lock. “Especially since today is the Fourth--”

Your words faded away as you opened your apartment door to reveal your roommate, her boyfriend, and two older adults sitting in the living room. Fuck.

“Oh hey!” your roommate greeted. You and Joe awkwardly entered the small apartment, fake smiles plastered on your faces.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you to be home!” you stated, trying to hide your annoyance at the situation. The one time you needed the apartment to yourself, she’s home. With guests.

“Oh yeah, my parents are in town for the holiday, and we’re just hanging out here for a little bit before we head to the park to watch fireworks,” she explained, gesturing to the others seated around the room who each waved at you. You gave a quick wave in response before remembering you had Joe next to you.

“Very cool,” you responded awkwardly as you started to make your way towards your bedroom. “Um, this is my friend, Joe.” Joe followed behind you, giving the group a quick wave as well. The group let out a chorus of greetings as the two of you finally closed the distance to your bedroom door.

You pulled Joe inside and closed the door, ending the awkward exchange.

“Well, so much for privacy,” you groaned, plopping down on your bed and throwing an arm across your eyes. When Joe didn’t respond after a few moments, you leaned up on your elbows to see Joe wandering around your room, a slight smile on his face. “What are you doing?”

“A person’s bedroom can tell you a lot about that person,” he replied before his eyes met yours. “I’m learning all I can about you.” You couldn’t help but mirror his smile. You sat up on the bed, reaching your arms out and making grabby hands at him. All you could think about was just touching him. He chuckled and stepped towards you, allowing you to pull him towards you.

“My diabolical plan to fuck you senseless in my apartment has failed,” you commented, your voice low as you ran your hands up and down his sides. Joe let out a long hum as he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, his hands sliding up your thighs. You held back a whimper at his touch. Fuck, you were so fucking horny and you just needed this man more than anything.

“What if we’re just really quiet?” he proposed, his voice thick with want. You groaned as his fingers strayed closer and closer to the place you wanted them.

“I don’t know if I’m capable of being quiet,” you countered. “Besides, these walls are paper thin. I would know. My roommate and her boyfriend are not as quiet as they think they are.” You cringed at the memory, the night that made you add “ear plugs” to your next shopping list. “They did say they were heading to the park. Maybe we can just wait it out?”

“Fine by me.”

So you waited. The two of you chatted, you sharing stories about objects displayed in your room and him laughing along to those stories. You mutually decided to keep your hands to yourselves for the time being, wordlessly agreeing that it would only lead to more sexual tension. You both kept your ears open to the sounds coming from the living room, hoping to hear a shuffle of feet and a door closing to signal that you were alone.

But an hour later, laughter and idle chatter still sounded from the other side of the wall, leaving you and Joe bored, hungry, and sexually frustrated.

“Well, I have no idea when these people are gonna leave,” you suddenly announced. “So I think I should just grab my bathing suit and we can go grab some food before we head back downtown.” Joe let out a sigh next to you.

“I think that’s probably a good idea,” he agreed. You leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before pushing yourself off of the bed. You yanked open a drawer from your dresser and pulled out the first bathing suit you saw.

“Are you really planning on getting undressed and putting that suit on right now, in front of me, and expecting me not to jump your bones?” Joe asked incredulously, still sprawled across your mattress. You turned to face him with a giggle.

“I would never be that cruel,” you countered before heading into your bathroom and closing the door behind you. You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You couldn’t remember another time where you had this much sexual tension with someone before. You cursed the universe for presenting you with this beautiful, funny, charming man but not letting you have him the way you wanted.

After pulling on your bikini and throwing your street clothes on top of it, you rejoined Joe in your bedroom, finding him tapping away at his phone. He glanced up at your entrance and that familiar, contagious smile of his appeared.

“Shall we?”

The two of your made your awkward exit from the apartment, you squeaking out a “see ya” to your roommate and her company. You piled back into your car and made your way towards your favorite burger joint that happened to be halfway between your apartment and the downtown condo. The pair of you had realized you hadn’t eaten at all that day and were tearing into your burgers and fries when your phone buzzed.

Kayla: we’re heading over to the river now, so you guys can just meet us there

You replied with a thumbs up emoji and went back to devouring your lunch.

“Who was that?” Joe asked, his voice muffled by the fries he had stuffed into his mouth.

“Kayla,” you replied quickly, not wanting to pause eating for too long. “She said they’re all headed to the river, so we can just go straight there instead of back to the condo.” Joe finally swallowed and reached for his soda.

“Well I don’t have my suit with me, so we have to go back to my condo anyway…”

Joe trailed off as you processed his statement. Then, as if your brains were connected, you both suddenly came to the same realization.

Everyone was already at the river. That meant your condo was empty.

Fuck. Yes.

Your eyes widened as you looked across the table at Joe. His eyes had glazed over and his mouth hung open slightly. You knew that look. It was the same look he had given you when the two of you almost had sex the day before. You let out a deep breath before shooting Joe a quick wink.

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence. “I guess we better finish up and head back to the condos.”

The two of you finished your meals unhealthily fast and quickly climbed back into your car. The ride was brimming with anticipation, made worse by Joe making the tortuous decision to run his hand up and down your thigh as you drove.

By the time the pair of you burst through the condo front door, you were already attached to each other, Joe’s hands gripping your hips and your arms looped around his neck. Joe practically flung you onto your tiny bed before pouncing on top of you, his lips devouring yours. You slid a hand to his chest and gently pushed him away.

“Wait,” you said breathlessly. “Let’s make sure we’re actually alone.” Joe nodded before leaning back down to press a quick peck to your cheek.

“Good idea.”

The two of you split up, you taking the upstairs and him downstairs, searching for any signs that one of your friends was still lingering in the condo somewhere. After not finding a single trace of anyone upstairs, you smirked.

Finally. Fucking privacy.

“We’re clear up here,” you called out as you made your way back down the steps.

“Same here,” Joe responded as you turned the corner and met his gaze. You slowly walked towards him, his eyes watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next. Your eyes fell to his chest as you gently ran both of your hands across the expanse of his cotton t-shirt. Your touches traveled up towards his neck before finally resting your hands on the side of his face.

“Fuck me, Joe,” you whispered before crashing your lips to his.

It was like a switch had been flipped. The two of you clawed at each other as your lips connected again, all passion and tongue. You practically floated back over to the bed, yanking Joe down on top of you.

Hands yanked at t-shirts and fingers pulled at zippers, and after getting momentarily caught in the straps of your bikini top, the two of you were finally naked, latching onto each other like you couldn’t bear to spend a moment not touching. Joe’s one hand cupped your jaw as he devoured your mouth, his other hand lighting a fiery trail of touches down your ribs, your hip, your thigh. While his touches were slow, like he was trying to memorize your curves, your touches were desperate and needy, running your hands along the expanse of his back before circling his neck. You just couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t stop touching him. The feeling of his bare skin against yours was ecstasy, setting your soul aflame. His long fingers found your folds, wet and aching to be massaged. A deep groan vibrated through his chest as he buried his head into your shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked,” Joe mumbled against your skin, his fingers continuing their exploration. You whimpered in response, completely melting against his ministrations. He painted your pussy with your own juices before centering in on the bundle of nerves that had been longing for his attention. The weight of his body kept your hips pinned as he worked, playing your body like a finely-tuned instrument; each knead of his thumb making you sing, filling the room with moans and whines. Two fingers slid into you with ease as his mouth worked to decorate your collarbone with dark marks, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin.

You were at his mercy, left to simply tug at his auburn locks and dig your nails into his back. The man stroked a fire in your belly, the pressure in your core building as every cell of your body cried out with pleasure. Your thoughts were foggy, but the same question from the first night plagued your mind once again: had it ever been this good before? How was it possible that one man had this innate power to flood your heart, your mind, your body with every good feeling in the world?

The edge drew nearer and nearer as Joe’s nimble fingers caressed and rubbed in all the right places. His breath against your neck, his hand gripping your shoulder -- the man was everywhere and you wanted nothing more than to drown in him.

You came with a yell, the noise from deep in your chest escaping like it had been trapped inside. Your walls clenched around those long fingers of his and your nails left little half-moons in his pale flesh, hips bucking hard against his hand. You hadn’t even realized you had squeezed your eyes shut until they shot open, eyesight blurry as rush after rush of bliss racked through your body. Your vision cleared, revealing two piercing amber eyes watching with you with intensity. 

Jaw slack and chest heaving, Joe slowly eased his fingers out of you, pushing himself onto his knees, your thighs still trapped beneath him.

“That was the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen,” he growled, bottom lip rolling between his teeth. You let out a pleasant hum.

“You should probably make me do it again,” you countered with a weary smirk as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. You took the opportunity to shamelessly ogle the man straddling you, your eyes tracing a path down his chest to his soft belly before landing on his cock, hard and pink in his hand. Your gaze shot back up to Joe’s face, his eyes hooded as he stared back at you, leisurely pumping himself. “As sexy as you look right now, I’m going to need you to put that in me ASAP. I don’t even want to entertain the notion of us being interrupted again.”

With a classic Joe grin, the man leaned over to reach his discarded shorts, pulling a condom from his pocket. He rolled it on, the smirk never leaving his face as he felt you watching him. You were entranced by him, the way the muscles in his arm flexed as he fisted himself, the way he bit down on his lip, the way he eyed your body with hunger.

He leaned over you, steadying himself on his elbow while he lined himself up. Your hands found his biceps again, gripping hard as sheathed himself inside of you, twin moans reverberating throughout the condo. Pausing only for a moment to glance down at you, Joe gripped your thigh, hooking it around his hip before giving an experimental thrust.

Your whimper and the way you latched onto him harder must have given him the confirmation he needed. He began to move, grinding deep inside you, impaling you on his cock with each pump of his hips. His grunts mixed with your cries of pleasure as you suffocated in everything that was Joe. Your fingers curled against his scalp as you yanked him down to meet your lips, wanting him to take your mouth, too. He tasted like Dr Pepper and smelled like summer, and you willed yourself to memorize every detail because deep down you knew you were lucky to have this, to have him.

For what felt like hours, the two of you moved as one, clinging to each other with the ferocity of two people who were deprived of one another for far too long. Joe let go of your thigh, leaving soft blue spots behind before planting his palm flat above your shoulder. The new position drove his cock into you deeper and faster and you couldn’t help but cry out. Your eyes bore into his as he pounded into you, his own groans like music to your ears. You were nearing the edge once again, your own hips meeting his with more and more desperation.

“Joe,” you breathed out, the single syllable all you were capable of producing. He understood though, dropping back to his elbow and reaching between the two of you in the same motion. His thumb connected with your clit with a perfectly timed thrust and then...euphoria.

Loudly and roughly, you came, walls tensing around him like a vice. You thrashed against him while you experienced wave after wave of pure elation, but his pace never slowed. His thumb continued to work at you as his hips pistoned against yours. You weakly swiped at his hand to stop his strokes against your overworked bundle of nerves and he finally relented, his own thrusts becoming sloppier. 

With a roaring groan, his cock throbbed inside of you while his hips stilled, his body going rigid above you. You watched his face in awe as he lost himself in his own pleasure, etching the image into your brain. And with a deep breath, he collapsed into you, and you reveled in the feeling of his bare chest pressing against yours.

The condo echoed with the sounds of heavy panting as you both came down from your shared high. Joe’s head nestled into the crook of your neck and you instinctively brought a hand up to run your fingers through his locks.

“That was...well worth the wait,” Joe mumbled into your skin, causing you to chuckle in response. Your laugh shook both of your trembling bodies and suddenly you were reminded that he was still inside you.

“Well, it would have been nice to have been able to do that all week,” you countered. You felt Joe smile against your neck before he pushed himself up onto his elbows to look at you.

“To be fair, we did try,” he argued with a grin. That sent you both into a fit of giggles, and you couldn’t help but shake your head at the ridiculous situation the two of you had found yourselves in the day before...and earlier that day. You laid there in each other’s nude embrace for a few moments longer, soaking up the feeling, exchanging soft caresses and gentle kisses. You both knew that it was very likely that you wouldn’t find yourselves in this position again. At least, not in the near future.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you’re crushing me,” you finally said after another minute. Joe let out a mock scoff before slowly easing himself out of you, both of you wincing at the sensation. He came to a stand next to the bed, politely offering a hand to you. You smiled and let him pull you to your feet and into his arms. His lips were heavenly against yours, the soft and slow kiss a stark contrast to the ones that had been exchanged during your escapade.

“Not to ruin this wonderful moment,” Joe murmured against your lips, “but we should probably start making our way to the river.” You groaned. He was right, annoyingly so. It had now been a few hours since you originally left to get your suit. You were both supposed to be spending time with all of your friends, not just each other, no matter how much you wanted to.

You both got yourselves cleaned up and dressed before heading down the hall to retrieve Joe’s swim trunks. Your hand twitched as you instinctively felt the need to reach for Joe’s hand, but you opted against it, suddenly feeling sheepish. Even though the two of you had held hands several times already, and the man had been buried inside you mere minutes ago, holding his hand right then seemed too...intimate all of a sudden.

Joe changed and gathered towels for the two of you before you headed downstairs, out onto the bustling street, and down towards the park, feeling different.

✧✧✧

You didn’t even get a chance to swim in the river.

After all of the effort on your part, the group had decided they were done with swimming and headed to grab some food by the time you made it to the park. You and Joe linked up with Matt and Dan, both sporting their usual snow cones, and found a spot in the grass to lay out your towels and wait for the rest of the group to arrive.

Things were weird right away. You noticed it immediately. As your friends started to trickle over, they greeted you with muted smiles and limited words. Something was brewing, and you seemed to be the only one who didn’t know what it was. Joe, on the other hand, seemed totally unaware, as he conversed with your gaggle of friends as they all got settled on their towels and blankets.

You were exhausted by how much your head was swimming. Most of the week, all you could think about was Joe. You overthought everything you said to him, every time you two touched, every time he glanced your way. You were so caught up in thinking about what to do with this new spark in your life. You practically didn’t have any brain power left to even ponder why everyone was acting so weird around you.

Dan, in his big brother wisdom, seemed to sense your confusion and squatted next to you.

“You should talk to Kayla,” was all he offered before standing up and returning to his spot next to Herbie. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Had you done something to Kayla?

You got your answer almost instantly as the petite brunette in question stomped over to your growing group, giving you a quick glare before plopping down a few towels in front of you beside Nick.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Classic Kayla. If she had a problem with you, she should be the one to tell you what it was. But this was a textbook move for her. Make it abundantly clear she’s upset but not be grown up enough to confront you about it. You sighed and glanced at the back of her head in front of you.

You were suddenly overcome with a sense of loneliness. Joe was a few blankets away, wooing the small crowd with his endless charm and wit, not even paying you any mind. Dan had decided that you were only worth a single sentence explanation before separating himself. And now your closest friend, your confidant, your wifey, was giving you the cold shoulder.

As the sun began to set and the crowd in the park grew around you, you gazed at Joe. He was animatedly telling some story to Rob and your heart panged at the sight. You wanted nothing more than to burrow yourself into his side, to feel his arms around you. Despite your anxiety about what was going to happen once Joe left, you felt safe and comfortable with him.

You continued to stare at him longingly, feeling almost jealous of Rob for having Joe’s attention. You knew you were being irrational; you had spent hours alone with Joe today. It was only fair that everyone else got to spend time with him now. But the selfish part of you wanted him all to yourself.

But he wasn’t yours. Not officially. That was the deal.

You were roused from your thoughts by fireworks exploding above you. It was all too overwhelming. The mobs of people decorating the park. The eruptions in the sky. Dan. Kayla. Joe. The past few days had been a roller coaster full of ups and downs, and it was as if it was finally catching up to you.

You felt a tear escape. Shouldn’t you be happy? You were surrounded by friends, you were smack in the middle of a whirlwind romance. The weather was amazing and you hadn’t had to think about work or real life in days.

So why were you crying? How was it possible to feel so alone when you were completely surrounded?

You stubbornly wiped at your face, annoyed with yourself. You couldn’t even focus on the colorful lights across the evening sky, too caught up in your own bullshit to appreciate it.

Then you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“She’s upset that we ditched the group for so long,” Joe said, loud enough for you to hear over the crashes and bangs but low enough to keep it between the two of you. You didn’t look at him, even as he settled next to you and began to trace soft circles on your knee. “Herbie told me.” You pondered his words, shaking your head in confusion. “Her view is that this week is about spending time with all of us together. So the two of us disappearing for hours and hours just to spend time with each other was a lame move in her eyes.” He paused, most likely hoping for a response from you, but you didn’t say a word, continuing to be annoyed at yourself for crying.

“I get it to a point,” Joe continued. Fuck, you thought, this is the part where he says he regrets everything. You winced, silently hoping he’d let you down easy. “But today was like...the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

You finally looked at him and were greeted with Joe’s soft smile. He wove his fingers with yours and placed a kiss to your knuckles, and it was as if he kissed away every anxiety in your body. You instantly relaxed at the gesture, and just like that, you were back.

“You’re just saying that because you got laid,” you jested, nudging him with your elbow.

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Shut up.”

You pulled him in for a kiss, wordlessly thanking him for just...everything. For making the past few days incredible. For making you laugh. For giving you several orgasms. For just being him. For just being Joe.

Your lips moved against his passionately as you poured every emotion you were feeling into the kiss. Every giddy smile that tugged at your lips when he flirted with you. Every shiver down your spine each time his fingers brushed your skin. Every moment of feeling seen and adored.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, foreheads pressed together. You couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away from those chestnut eyes that seemed to stare right into your soul. Who gives a shit about fireworks when the most beautiful thing in the world was right in front of you?

The next hour passed by in a blur. You were too caught up in the feeling of Joe’s body pressed against your side, the feeling of his thumb caressing the back of your hand, the feeling of your shoulders brushing against each other’s as you walked back towards the condo. You could hear the rambling conversations of your friends around you, but they sounded miles away.

By the time you stumbled back into the condo, you were exhausted. It had been a long day, and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle up into Joe’s arms and pass out. It seemed like everyone was on a similar wavelength as you noticed the condo begin to settle down a lot earlier than usual. The awkwardness from the park had seemingly vanished for the most part; you assumed it was because everyone who knew why Kayla was upset with you had either forgotten about it or didn’t care themselves. 

After grabbing a cup of water and heading back towards your bed to join Joe, you found he was not alone.

“We should talk,” Kayla stated, glaring at you. Your eyes immediately found Joe’s, his face offering nothing but sympathy.

He said goodnight with a chaste kiss to your temple and a squeeze of your hand before disappearing through the front door, leaving you alone with the angry brunette perched on the edge of your bed.

“I guess you’re done giving me the silent treatment?” you accused, dropping onto the bed and stretching out your legs behind her.

“Well I mean considering you ditched us all for like five hours today, I assumed you didn’t want to talk to me,” she countered. You rolled your eyes.

“Come on,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Can we be fucking adults here? Why is it so bad that Joe and I spent some time alone today? I mean you were the one who suggested I hook up with him in the first place--”

“It was a joke! I didn’t think you’d actually take me seriously! And now…” she trailed off. You furrowed your brow as you waited for her to continue. She turned to you, a pained look on her face as if she was dreading the words she was about to say. “I’m worried about whatever this is turning into.”

“What what is turning into?” you questioned, your brows remaining knitted together, trying to decipher what she was trying to say.

“You and Joe.” 

Her confession did nothing to ease your confusion, so you simply sat there and stared at her, silently asking for further explanation.

“It just seems like...with the way you’re acting...I don’t know. It just seems a lot more serious than a quick fling.”

You pondered her words. There was definitely a truth to them; the status of your...connection with Joe was practically all you could think about. It was definitely beyond just a simple fling. But Kayla’s concern about it just confused you even more. It took several moments for you to finally respond.

“Are you...are you jealous?” You almost felt bad asking. Kayla had a long-term boyfriend back home. He hadn’t been able to get the time off from work to join the group during the yearly get-together this time. But her actions and words gave off an air of jealousy. Hell, she had said it herself: she was mad that you had spent time with Joe away from everyone else.

“No, not at all,” she confirmed, shaking her head. “I’m...I’m just concerned that this isn’t going to end well. One or both of you are going to get hurt.”

Of course you had entertained that possibility. Fuck, you’d spent most of the week overanalyzing everything about the situation. As hard as you were trying to maintain that this thing with Joe was casual, that you were gonna take it a day at a time, all it took was his hundred-watt smile to make you melt. This thing was what, five days old? But you had to face it, you had it bad.

But at the end of the day, if this whole thing was a mistake, it was your mistake to make.

You let out a sigh, your frustration with Kayla fading away.

“I appreciate you worrying about me,” you admitted, scooting closer to her on the bed, signaling you were backing down. “But Joe and I have talked about it. We’re not jumping into this head first. We’re gonna take it a day at a time.”

Her face revealed she wasn’t convinced. She eyed you warily, looking for something, you weren’t sure what.

“Just...be careful, okay?” she insisted, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze. “You know I love you a lot.” The frustrated frown that had taken up residence on your face ebbed away and you offered a soft smile.

“I love you too, wifey.”

✧✧✧

You were roused from your peaceful sleep by a buzzing under your head. With a groan, you flopped onto your stomach, pulling the vibrating phone out from under your pillow, revealing your boss’s name in big bold letters.

“Aaron, it’s eight in the morning, dude,” you grumbled into the phone.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but I’m desperate. I know you’re supposed to be off today, but is there any way you can close tonight? Both of the other managers called out with the flu.”

You let out another groan, making sure your boss knew exactly how grumpy you were. Of course you would have to go into work. The last few days had been too good and the universe needed to balance itself out. After a long silence, you finally relented, knowing you really didn’t have a choice.

“I’ll be there at two.”

“Oh my god, thank you! I owe you lunch or something! Thank you so much.”

After hanging up with your boss, you let out another loud groan, knowing you were going to have to break the news to your friends. And Joe.

Fuck. You were gonna lose your last day with Joe.

You waited until the rest of the condo was up and moving, or at least relatively close, before letting them know, collecting your ragtag group of friends, Joe included, into the condo living room to break the news. Everyone was disappointed, as you expected, especially at the fact that logistically, you wouldn’t be able to come back to the condo after work, as you were supposed to work an early shift the next day. When your eyes landed on Joe, instead of disappointment, you were met with what could only be described as a focused glare.

As your gaggle of friends debated where they were going to go for lunch, you moved towards him, his concentrated gaze watching your movements.

“You look like you’re scheming, Mazzello,” you commented as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His arms looped around your waist, the two of you fitting together like puzzle pieces.

“What if when you leave for work, the two of us didn’t have to say our goodbyes yet?”

The plan was simple. The second you were off work, Joe would Uber up to your apartment where he’d stay with you before you would take him to the airport for his ungodly early flight. You’d be able to have a few more hours together before reality would kick in and the past few days of absolute joy would come to an end.

You were passed around the room as each one of your friends pulled you in for a hug, exchanging words of love and about how next year couldn’t come fast enough.

Joe helped you finish packing your suitcase and walked you to the parking garage, leaving you with a passionate kiss and a strong internal battle over whether or not to call your boss and let him know you changed your mind.

But instead you drove yourself home, throwing on some more work-appropriate garb and heading down the street to rejoin the world of retail.

✧✧✧

It didn’t feel like it was possible for time to pass so slowly. But each second was like a minute, each minute an hour. Customers were grinding your gears more so than normal. The associates seemed determined to anything except their jobs. It was oddly busy for a weeknight, meaning more to straighten up and a longer shift. And all you could think about was the night you had ahead of you the second you clocked out.

You could barely concentrate as you counted the night’s deposit. You barely heard the associates wishing you a good night as you locked up the door, your entire focus centered on determinedly tapping away at your phone as you walked towards your apartment.

You: FREEDOM

Joe: I’m on my way.

Two minutes later, you arrived at your apartment to find it completely empty and you sighed in relief. Another fifteen agonizing minutes later, you yanked Joe through your front door, his suitcase falling to the ground behind him. You kissed him as if you hadn’t seen him in days, instead of only a few hours. He kissed you back just as hungrily, holding you impossibly close.

Joe eventually collected his forgotten suitcase and the two of you settled into your bed, cuddling close as you recounted your stressful workday. He caressed your back and patiently listened while you complained, shaking his head lovingly at your overdramatic retellings of the events of your night. You ran your fingers through his hair as he told you about his day, telling you about the condo’s shenanigans while trying not to make you upset for missing out. At this point you didn’t care. You had Joe in your arms right then and that’s all that mattered to you.

After your third yawn, Joe suggested the two of you attempt to get some sleep before your early alarm would go off, signaling the end of your slowly dwindling time together. You burrowed under the covers as Joe spooned up behind you, his arm protectively wrapping around your middle. He whispered a soft goodnight into your ear, and as soon as you relaxed into his embrace, you were out like a light.

Somewhere in your dreaming you noticed something. There was a gentle tickle against your neck and shoulders. It was soft and you relaxed into the touch as if you were afraid it would disappear. You slowly began to come to and as your mind became more clear, it suddenly registered that the pleasant touch was Joe’s lips against your skin. You let out a soft moan as you stretched, arching into his kisses.

“We have a half hour until we have to leave,” Joe mumbled into your hair, his hands sliding up to caress your ribs now that he knew you were awake. You hummed in response, immediately understanding what he was saying. You gave your hips an experimental roll backwards against him, meeting with his rigid cock behind you and earning a growl in your ear.

In retrospect, it was silly of the two of you to wear clothes to bed, knowing full well you’d be stripped of them at some point. Clumsily and sleepily, the two of you shed each other of your sleepwear, the need to feel each other’s skin driving your actions. His lips found yours in the dark, greedily licking into your mouth like a starved man. His grip on you was like a vice as he rolled his hips against yours, his hard on trapped between your bellies. The pitch black of your room made everything more intense, it felt like that first night all over again. Joe was everywhere all at once, kissing you, stroking the heat between your thighs, massaging your breasts. When he thrust into you, locking his hips into place like he belonged there, you couldn’t help but whine. Every time was better than the last and you had a feeling this man was about to ruin you in the best way. No one was ever going to be able to bring you to pleasure like this ever again. The thought was both scary and exhilarating.

His large hands yanked you and pushed you where he pleased, and you gladly moved with him, his touch pulling nothing but pleasure. No matter what happened next, no matter what happened once the two of you got into your car and drove to the airport, you knew in this moment that you were his. You wanted to give yourself to him. You needed him to take you.

“Please, Joe,” you whimpered out. “Just fuckin’....use me.”

In an instant you were flipped on to your stomach and dragged to the edge of the bed, your feet hitting the floor, your body folded in half under Joe’s. He railed into you, groaning into your ear. You couldn’t make out the mumbled words against your skin, too lost in your own pleasure as he drove deeper and deeper inside you. You reached behind you to grip his wrists where his hands rested on your hips, holding on as if he’d disappear if you let go, as if this was nothing more than a dream.

You came with a loud moan, pleasure rushing through every cell in your body. Joe continued to impale you on his cock as you rode out your high, then with a strangled groan, he pulled out and panted your bare back with white streaks. He left you slumped over the bed, absolutely boneless and blissed out while he fumbled through your dark bathroom for a washcloth.

You let out a pleased hum as he cleaned you up, and again as he placed a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. You pushed yourself up on shaky legs, turning around and reaching for Joe instinctively. You knew you had minutes left and you wanted to make sure you were touching him at all times. You looped your arms around his neck and kissed him, willing your brain to memorize every aspect of the moment, because you had no idea when or even if you’d be lucky enough to have him again. The softness of his lips, the way he pressed his chest against yours, the little noises he made as you pressed your lips to his neck. You etched it all into your brain before pulling back to gaze into his eyes. 

“We better get going,” he said before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. He smiled at you, but his eyes were sad, as if he regretted being the one to pull you both back to reality.

You threw your sleep clothes back on, uncaring of your appearance considering the sun wasn’t even up yet. You helped him make sure that he had all of his things, and then the two of you piled into your car for the last time.

You hummed along to your shuffling playlist as you drove down the empty highway, your car the only one for miles on account of the ungodly hour. One hand steered the car and the other held Joe’s hand tightly, your fingers woven together. No words were spoken; they weren’t needed. You both knew how you felt about each other. You both knew that this sucked. And you both were afraid of what was going to come next. 

But you were in it together. Taking it one day at a time. That was the deal.

The song on the stereo changed to “Don’t You Forget About Me” as you passed the welcome sign for the airport, and you rolled your eyes at the spot-on song choice.

You slowed the car to a stop at the curb below the sign for Joe’s airline, hopping out to help him free his suitcase from your trunk. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments before Joe pulled you into a crushing embrace, tucking his head into your shoulder.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You were a bit choked up, unable to get words out, so you simply nodded, hoping to whatever higher power there was that his words would ring true.

You reluctantly let go of him and watched him with a smile as he wheeled his suitcase through the doors before you, throwing a glance over his shoulder to see you waving back at him.

It wasn’t until you were halfway home that you let yourself cry.

✧✧✧

DOJ Taglist: @deacyblues​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @rogers-sweatbands​ @almightygwil​ @travelbugg64 @briarrose26​ @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes​ @xbuckxnastyx​

Permanent Taglist: @queenlover05​ @mrhoemazzello​ @madamsledge​ @sadhwstudent​ @johndeaconshands​ @puffnstuff08 @stardust-galaxies​

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello smut #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello fanfic #joemazzmatazz

[writemarvelousthings]

Let It Snow.

PAIRING: Reader x Bucky

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: A little tiny bit of angst if you squint but mostly fluff, and Bucy hating the cold. 

A/N: This is for @arawynn​ ‘s Festive Winter Wonderland Writing Challenge!  There are still lots of prompts and scenarios left if anyone is interested you should defiantly check it out! My prompt was “Everything is ready for an afternoon in front of the fireplace”  And a big thank you to @bucky-plums-barnes​ and @abovethesmokestacks​ for beta reading and pointing out things I missed! Would be lost without those girls! I hope you all enjoy and it puts you in the Christmas mood x 

Gif, not mine. 

The cold seeps in slow and undetectable at first, the falling leaves are the first clue. Crunching crisp leaves turn into sludge. One wrong misstep could send your ankle rolling unnaturally and your heart rate skyrocketing. The cold nips at your nose and cheeks, it makes you shudder stepping out into the elements, large coats and woollen hats appear in the streets as people move more quickly, desperate to find a place of warmth. Then suddenly, all at once. The snows arrive and the world is bathed in a pristine white glow that brings the promise of YuleTide and once again Bucky is reminded how much he hates the cold.

Sam rips into him, howling at how such an imposing man could look like a petulant child swaddled in jumpers and scarves that cover the bottom half of his face his ice blue eyes rivalling the icicles that shine in the low morning sunlight. He tries to hide his discomfort from you, but you can see right through him.

You notice the way he favours his left shoulder in the mornings, the cold stabbing at the torn and reassembled muscle to steel. Not even Shuri’s genius with vibranium can fix seventy years of damaging scar tissue, you know it will be something Bucky will carry with him always. Just like how the cold brings back flashes of old memories, a fast-moving train. Steve screaming, cold sterilised rooms Hydra kept him in during his years of “service”. The memories don't keep him awake at night like they used to, but the cold always brings them back, how ironic that the Winter Soldier despises the very season he’s named after.

On this particular day morning arrives as usual, sunrise bathing the room in soft pink and orange hues. It catches the dust particles floating through the air before disappearing into the shadows, you smile softly, snuggling into the large heat source next to you. Tilting your chin upwards, you watch the sleeping man. There was a time you’d be the one waking up to him looking down at you, ice blue eyes crinkling at the edges as he gives you a soft smile only reserved for you. It’s a smile that sends a thousand fireflies bursting in your chest.

He’s on his back, one arm curled around your waist, the black vibranium tucked under his pillow beneath his head. His plump lips opened slightly, he’s relaxed. Open and vulnerable in your presence, it makes you reach out to trace the curve of his nose. The light touch makes him follow you, turning his head towards your smiling face.

“Good morning handsome.”

“Morning, sugar.”

Soft kisses press against your palm and wrist, sleeping snuffling noises akin to a puppy fall from his lips make you chuckle.

“You got that meeting in an hour.” you remind him gently, your fingers finding home against his skull. You scratch against it lightly as Bucky starts purring in earnest.

“But it’s nice and warm here, don’t wanna get up. Too cold.” To prove a point he tucks his toes behind your calves. The freezing offending toes in question make you squeak, donkey kicking back in retaliation you try and wiggle your way out of his grip. Bucky pouts grabbing at you gently.

“Why are you running from me, pretty girl, you wanna break this old man’s heart?”

You roll your eyes shifting quickly to straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him soundly on the lips. “I’d never dream of it, but Sam might break something if you’re late again. You’re debriefing Peter and Carol remember,” you try not to grin at Bucky's expense as he groans pulling a pillow over his face.

“Come on, the sooner you get up, the sooner you can come back to the fun activity I’ve got planned for us.” You watch as the pillow is flung off his head, hands instantly on your hips as he gazes up at you through thick black lashes.

“Pretty sure we already did a fun activity last night… twice.” Despite fully remembering said fun activity, his words still manage to make you blush as you slap his hands off your hips springing off him with as much grace you can muster at eight in the morning.

“Up and at 'em, Sarge, the day is dawning.” You wander into the bathroom away from Bucky's soft groaning, the cold already settling in his bones.

~~

Bucky often wonders what his life would have been like if he never fell off that damn train. If he made it back home after the war if Steve never crashed the plane into the glacier. Would they have settled back in Brooklyn, would he have found a pretty dame that could have handled all the trauma he had gone through. Probably not, he doesn’t like to think about that too much. Because that world didn’t have you, or the small apartment you both shared in Brooklyn (at least the idea of settling in Brooklyn still stuck, just like the damn snow under his boots) The white offensive substance crunched merrily underfoot as he stomped up the steps to the apartment building. The cold he felt this morning still clung to his insides like frost, he still didn’t feel any warmer as he trundled into the lobby of the building. Stomping and shaking the snow off him like a dog, hair hanging limply against his cheeks, he really needed to start wearing that beanie you got him last week. Going through the mundane checklist of opening the mailbox, he relishes in the normality. Especially after reprimanding two superhumans about how-

“Just because you’re indestructible and can shoot webs out of god knows where you can not Instagram live a mission.”

With a handful of what he assumes is more Christmas cards, he thumps heavily up the stairs, no doubt to the irritation of Ms Jenkins on the second floor. Miserable woman, Bucky couldn’t recall a time where he has seen her smile.  

“I'm home,” he calls through the familiar space as he shoulder opens the door, instant warmth floods through his damp coat, his skin tingling sharply.

Shrugging off the offending damn coat, he hangs it by your bright red one, the woollen material a bright contrast to his black. He smiles as he recalls your comment as you pull it out from the depths of your wardrobe.

“Red is such a festive colour! Everyone should have a Christmas coat, James, it should be the law.”

“I swear that’s the last time I’m letting Sam put Danvers and the Parker kid on missions again. They cause more havoc than they stop, I swear to…”

The words die on his throat faster than the Central Park lake freezing over in January. The living room, which had looked relatively normal this morning, was now what can only be described as an explosion of Christmas. Fairy lights strung along each wall and shelving. Small ornaments stood proud on the mantle, the familiar sight of the pine tree towered in the corner of the room like a festive sentinel standing guard looking over the room, but what makes Bucky's heart simultaneously melt and expand is the pile of pillows and blankets in the middle of the room. His eyes gaze around the room till he finds you, stood by the tree, fuzzy socks on your feet as you push the sleeves of his grey hoodie up your arms.

“Help a girl will you, Sarge?” The grin that spreads across your lips is slow and sweet like molasses. Innocently holding out the glistening star towards him, Bucky toes off his boots and strides towards you, curling the black and gold arm around you as he takes the star gently out of your hand.

“You going to let me do the honours, sweetheart?”

“Wouldn’t feel like Christmas if you didn’t.”

He feels your wrap your arms around his waist as he leans upwards to place the twinkling star atop the tree, warm hands slide under his shirt, leaving a burning trail against his skin that shoots down to the very nucleus of his cells.

“Perfect,” you whisper into his shoulder as you both stand back looking at the tree, your hands rub small circles on his lower back as you feel him drop his lips to the top of your head.

“You really are.”

“I was talking about the tree, you old sap.” You poke his side for good measure only to be pulled back into his embrace.

“Well, everything’s ready for an afternoon in front of the fireplace. Go get changed then meet me back here.” You give his ass a light tap as you push him gently towards your bedroom.

“Alright, alright, woman, can’t a man enjoy holding his sweetheart in his arms for a few moments?”

You knew his words were empty, especially with the bright grin radiating from him. With a spring in his step, he makes quick work of changing into the soft grey sweatpants and red sweatshirt laid out on the bed. Eager to be back in your arms and under the soft blankets, the cold winds whipping against the windows, but Bucky can’t find a reason to pay them any mind. Not when you’re sitting pretty in front of the fire, two steaming cups in each hand, no doubt with It’s A Wonderful Life queued up on the tv. He doesn’t think of the seventy years spent cold, alone and in pain. He’d walk through the worst blizzard till his toes were purple and his nose frostbitten to hell if it meant you would be at the end waiting for him, with all the warmth in the world to thaw him out, calling him back home.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #ArawynnsFestiveWinterWonderland #bucky barnes imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #my writing

[zahneundklauen-retired]

Dawn of the Final Day || Kaden and Alcher

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @chasseurdeloup and @zahneundklauen SUMMARY: Hunter and wolf find each other on the last day of the moon. Surely fate has brought them together. CONTENT: Blood, Gore mention, death mention, bad coffee

Everything had seemed to change recently. Too much. But one thing stayed the same, Kaden’s morning ritual of stopping by Coffee Plus to grab a good espresso. Alright, good might be pushing it, it wasn’t amazing or anything but it was better than he could manage with any small machine at home. So he would take what he could get. As early as he rose in the morning, he was still groggy and grumpy in the mornings. Grumpier than usual, that was. Queuing was truly the worst part and it was only ever compounded by people who didn’t know what they wanted even though they’d stood there and waited forever and a day and had more than enough time to figure shit out before the moment they stepped to the counter. It didn’t help that in this town he was constantly surrounded by shifters and the dull tingle down his spine never quit in the morning. He didn’t have it in him to give a shit long enough to pay attention to where it was coming from or even properly ignore it. He sighed. It was the same every day. Small comfort, there. The lady in front was taking so long, he started to doze off where was standing. So much so that he tripped a bit and caught himself as he ran into the person behind him a little. “Putain, sorry,” he tried to offer her. Somehow they still hadn’t moved. Shit, he gripped his side a moment, stinging a little from the pain from the other night. “You have to wonder what people do this whole time in line,” he grumbled, mostly to himself, partially to the person he’d just run into. He hated small talk but he sort of felt obligated. 

 Human rituals were still wholly strange to Alcher, but lately she’d been finding herself more and more fascinated with them. Her newest endeavor was the ritual of coffee in the morning, despite the ache in her bones. She’d need something to help get her through this last moon. Though Alcher vastly preferred tea, she figured she ought to try coffee. Everyone seemed to swear by it, after all. And so, she found herself in line at Coffee Plus, the other coffee shop Regan had told her about when they’d talked last. It couldn’t be too bad, right? She’d waited for a while outside before heading in, letting the queue to the counter fill up before heading in behind a rather grumpy looking man. She was examining the menu board-- with very little success; it was so far away and her eyes were failing her in two ways-- when the man in front of her stumbled back into her. She put her hands out quickly to right him, feeling the pain throb again from when her arm had been torn to shreds, letting him fix himself. She gave a pleasant smile, despite the automatic action of wiping her hands as if she’d touched dirt on her shirt. There’d last been blood there, after all. “No problem,” she said, tilting her head, “happens to us all.” She raised a brow. “I’m not sure,” she answered, “I’m still just trying to decide what to order. What’s your favorite? I haven’t quite got the hang of American style coffee. Have you?”

 “You mean you don’t already know?” Kaden sighed. She did have a good point though about American coffee. It was… what it was. “I had a feeling you weren’t from around here by the accent but that all but confirms it,” he said with a small laugh. “I suppose you caught me, too,” he said, realizing she’d put the pieces together a bit sooner than he had. It was early. “Where are you from? And how many people ask if you’re from Germany?” he said. Admittedly, he couldn’t quite place her accent, either. It was nearly German, but he knew damn well it wasn’t after growing up around Oscar and living in the country a few years. “Anyway, it’s nothing like home, that’s for sure. Or really most of Europe if you ask me. This is the best place I’ve found in town, though.” He gave a small shrug. “It’s passable and it’s good enough. Beggars, choosers, what not.” He wasn’t entirely sure what to suggest to her but his favorite, that much he could manage. “Most days I just get an espresso or a doppio but occasionally I get a, uh, well it’s not a café crème really, but I can pretend.” He didn’t expect any coffee shop in a small town in Maine to compare to a Parisian cafe, not really, but it was hard not to think about them on occasion, miss home a little bit. Even if he wasn’t always sure how much of home France really was more and more. “I take it you’re not part of the usual crowd, then.” 

 “No, I don’t usually drink coffee, actually,” Alcher admitted, watching him closely for a moment. He looked quite tired, but she supposed that was rude to point out. Perhaps that was why he was in line for coffee. It was the drink with the most caffeine in it, aside from those nasty energy drinks. “I suppose I did. French is a very easy accent to place,” she agreed. “It’s Polish,” she said smoothly, not even flinching as he mentioned Germany and how she didn’t sound quite German. It stung on the inside, but decades worth of pretending and hiding had taught her how to keep it there. “I’m originally from Poland, though I haven’t been back in quite some time.” She nodded, as if she understood why he thought this coffee was worse than any other coffee. “I understand that.” She looked back at the menu, as if to examine the board once more, despite still not being able to see it well enough. For a moment, she remembered the sting of saltwater in her wounds. “I think the doppio sounds like a good choice,” she decided, finally, “thanks for the suggestions.” This place certainly was strange, and the people, stranger. This man, though grumpy and tired, didn’t seem so strange. He also didn’t smell strange, rather like coconut and peppermint shampoo, and dogs. If it weren’t for the overwhelming smell of bitter coffee, she was sure she could pick out something else, but it was proving a little too difficult. “No, I’m not. I’d heard this place had good coffee from a friend, and thought I might try it out. Are you, then?”

 “Strangely enough, that’s the second time I’ve heard that in this shop recently.” Kaden almost hated how easily the small talk came to him just then. He chalked it up to the fact he was speaking with another expat. There was always some strange tenus solidarity there. “Polish, of course. I hear it now. My uncle’s German so I figured it wasn’t, you know, uh…” So much for being decent at small talk. “It’s been a few years since I’ve been across the Atlantic.” Kaden wasn’t certain the next time he’d be back. Even though, strangely enough, he was finally in a spot where he might be able to afford the plane ticket without scrimping and saving. He wasn’t even sure it was duty anymore that was keeping him stateside. For as many time as he thought about going home, leaving this cursed town, he almost found himself thinking of White Crest as home. What a fucking awful thought that was. “Sorry what was that?” He almost missed what she said. It felt like he had cotton in his ears a moment. And everything seemed a little duller. Maybe he really was just that exhausted. But it almost seemed like something else. Putain, it better not be something magical. He didn’t want to deal with magic just let. Not until after 10AM, please. Still, it was easy enough to piece together what she said as he focused a little harder. “Right, yeah I’m here almost every morning. I should give up the habit but…” He gave a shrug. “It’s better than my habit for smoking I suppose.”

 “Easy mistake,” Alcher said despite the sour taste of the words in her mouth and their untruthfulness, “a few of the people I grew up with were German, so I picked up some of their accent as well, it seems.” Grinned past the taste of copper in her throat. “Is he? What part of Germany is he from?” It’d been a while since she’d met anyone from Germany, she wondered how nice it might be to be able to speak her native tongue to another. “It’s been awhile for me, as well. Nearly a decade, by now,” she said, though she’d lost track of the years a while ago. Time didn’t matter to a wolf in the forest. She opened her mouth to repeat her words, when he gathered them up himself and spoke again. Interesting. Humans were so fascinating sometimes. She wished she could place what that other smell was, that sort of metallic-y earthen scent. Perhaps it was another person’s perfume or shampoo. But her senses had been messed up since that fae child had torn into her, had ripped bits of her flesh, left her half dead and nearly drowned. She glanced around momentarily, before looking back to the man. “Well, as far as bad habits go, I doubt coffee is the worst one you could have,” she answered, knowing all the other vile habits humans developed for themselves. Pitiful creatures, that was for sure. “Like that one. Then again, smoking seems to be a big thing in France. From the time I remember when I was there, it seemed as if almost everyone I met smoked.”

 “Not too far from Stuttgart. Bad Wimpfen to be specific.” Kaden had so many mixed feelings about the country given his circumstances. He shouldn’t blame the place for it, the fact that it was where his whole life had ended in a way and began differently. Still, there were so many unpleasant memories some of those places stirred up for him to ever be excited to visit. Other than to see Oscar. “A decade, huh? Long time to be away from home. Guess that definition changes a bit, though, depending.” He wasn’t sure if that was introspective or stupid. Possibly both. “My wallet tends to disagree when it’s practically every morning. Oh well. What’s life if you can’t enjoy it a little?” Couldn’t take it with you and he was sure he wasn’t likely to have to worry about saving up for retirement or shit like that. He would be lucky to make it another decade. “Yeah, my parents would on occasion, even though they tried to hide it. I don’t know, picked it up as a teen, never stopped. Hasn’t slowed me down much. But I have cut back considerably.” They inched forward in line. “I guess she finally read the whole menu after all.” 

 “Stuttgart, ah,” Alcher said, forgetting for a moment that she could not give her true birthplace away, “I lived North of-- well,” paused, “--northwest of Czaplenik, erm...near the border. Stuttgart is far from that, though I have been through there once.” To track down her family’s killers. They ended up being in a different part, but they’d gone through the city, for what reason, Alcher did not know. She straightened herself out and smiled. “I suppose it does. What is that cheesy American saying? Heart is the home? Or...something.” The line inched forward and the person at the counter now, was having a hard time deciding between a Cafe Late and a Cafe Mocha. The wearied barista just sighed. The man behind her, dressed in a suit, tapped his foot anxiously. “Seems so, but now we’ve another stall.” The smell of chocolate filled her nose as someone behind the counter warmed up some cocoa. “The small things really do make life worth it, though. From what I’ve experienced, at least.”

 “Ah, yeah, other side of the country more or less. Makes sense. I’ve been out towards Berlin and traveled a bit through Poland but mostly kept towards Munic, Frankfurt, Cologne, all that.” Kaden had mostly lived in the South Western parts of Germany when he was there. The only times he’d seen the rest and any of Poland was on hunting trips. Not that he was about to advertise that. “Something like that, yeah,” he said with a half smile. “Home is where the heart is. Very cheesy but I suppose they have a point.” Though it did make him wonder if that meant that White Crest was currently his home. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that thought. He shook his head a bit to himself and inhaled a deep breath, pain shooting through his side as he did. Weird. It was almost like the coffee was less pungent today, the scents duller. What was going on? He pinched the bridge of his nose, tried to help open up the airflow or something. Didn’t really help much, though. “Yeah you need something to keep you going and all. Sometimes it’s coffee I guess. C'est la vie.” The line eventually moved again and he found himself up at the front. Kaden placed his order and turned back to the woman behind him. “Order what you want, I’ve got it,” he told her. “Least I can do for subjecting you to small talk after running into you.” 

 “Ah,” was all Alcher said to that. She shuffled up in line with him and gave another glance at the menu. It was finally coming into view, and she squinted to see the price by the drink she planned to order. But then the man offered to buy it for her, and she was genuinely surprised. Humans weren’t usually so generous. Rarely, in fact. Perhaps he wasn’t altogether human, then. If only she could get his scent, but the musk of smoke and coffee beans and chocolate clouded her nose. That, and she hadn’t fully healed from her moon yet, despite Zinnia’s help. A smile came to her face at the thought. “C’est la vie,” she said, then winced, “sorry, I probably butchered French for you. It’s a much softer language than I’m used to.” She gave the woman her order once they shuffled up in line. “Thank you, this is very kind of you. At least give me your name so I can repay you sometime soon? I’m Ada,” she smiled, and held out her hand, “It was real nice to meet you, small talk and all.”

 “Ada?” he said, giving her hand a shake. “Kaden. Maybe I’ll see you again. Enjoy the coffee.”

#chatzy #chatzy: kaden #wickedswriting #dawn of the final day #kaden

[love-bucky-3000]

Comfort

 Bucky’s Birthday Month Day One: A rough mission happens and Bucky goes to you for comfort

Warnings: little angst if you squint, fluff, hurt and comfort

an: wow i’m writing again??? I wanted to do something for Bucky’s Birthday Month so I’m posting day one! please enjoy! not edited.

Words: 1K

Everyone knew the mission wasn’t going to be an easy one, but they didn’t expect the entire Hydra complex to explode. Fortunately,  none of the Avengers were inside the building but a few were close. Sam will need a new pair of wings and Clint will complain until he gets a new set of hearing aids- Tony has needed to do that anyway, but Bucky was thrown 20 feet backwards and against what felt like 30 trees but was probably just one very solid one. Bucky’s ears were ringing and his head was pounding. He could feel the serum kicking into overdrive to fix the bones that were most likely pushed out of place by that stupid looking tree. Or Bucky thought it looked stupid, he couldn’t really see straight.

“...Bucky?... Hey, Buck, you good?” He could barely make out Steve’s voice and he definitely couldn’t tell if it was coming from his earpiece or from in front of him. He reached up to check his earpiece and oh- that was blood. That isn’t good. Did the blast really do that much damage? Bucky shook his head to clear the fog but had to quickly stop before he threw up everywhere. 

He groaned as he slowly tried to push himself into a sitting position and suddenly Steve was right next to him. “Whoa, easy buddy. You hit that tree pretty hard.”

“Actually, I think the tree hit you,” snickered Sam. Steve only could send a death glare because Bucky chose that moment to fall limp back onto the ground. 

Bucky groggily woke in the Quinjet, seatbelted into one of the medical chairs towards the exit. Steve was sitting across from him reading something on a StarkPad. Bucky coughed and Steve’s head snapped up. Bucky would have laughed at his mother henning if he didn’t have a migraine. 

“Are you feeling any better? You worried me a little back there.” “If you count not needing to pass out then sure, I feel better.”

Steve smiled and looked back down that the tablet, “Well, hopefully, you’ll feel better once we land.” Bucky didn’t think too much on it and laid his head back to rest till the plane landed back at the Tower.

The jolt of the landing plane brought Bucky back to the present. He carefully took the IV out of the back of his hand and took the safety strap off his middle. He stood on two shaky legs and followed everyone off the jet. He soon caught the reason for what Steve said. 

You were supposed to be on a very hush hush mission in the Bahamas, finding disguised Hydra agents, but for some reason you were standing at the end of the runway, smiling. You hadn’t had any contact with each other for over two months.  Bucky figured he must have looked like shit because the smile faded into something of worry and pain when he stepped closer. Everyone went their own separate ways and left the two of you alone in the hanger. 

You quickly walked up to Bucky and gently hugged him. You felt him sag in your arms and you patted his back. “I think a shower and a nap is in order. What do you want for dinner?” Bucky shrugged. You guessed this was going to be one of his quiet days. As much as you hated him being quiet, he was always so cute when he let you finally take care of him. 

You pulled back from the hug but kept your arms around him. You studied his face. He only had very tiny scratches here and there but the deep circles under his eyes told you that he hadn’t been sleeping well again. You stood on your toes and pecked his lips. A cute boyish smile spread across his face and he squeezed you tighter. You thanked whatever God is listening that he was being clingy. You hated the nights that he felt so inhuman that you couldn’t touch him.

“How about pizza? We can order from that place you love and throw on a movie?” He smiled and bumped his forehead with yours. You giggled and reluctantly pulled back. He pouted and tried to pull you back in. “Shower, Bucky, we gotta shower.” He grumbled something you couldn’t head and you kissed his cheek and walked him to the elevators that would take you up to your shared floor. 

Once you made a cuddly Bucky shower and change out of his tact gear, you bundled him up in some warm sleep pants and gently pulled a soft hoodie over his head. He was still feeling weak and battle-worn, but pizza and a good night's sleep should help.

You were both getting ready to turn on a movie when JARVIS announced that the food was in the elevator. You made Bucky sit and you grabbed the food. You think he complained that you were on a mission too, but he doesn’t know you spent most of it on the beaches, so lucky you. 

You brought the pizza boxes back to the living room and your heart leaped with joy. Bucky was curled up under the plush throw blanket that was given to you as a birthday present and he had Criminal Minds queued up on the TV. He noticed you in the doorway and lifted the edge of the blanket so you can climb into his blanket cocoon. 

Two episodes later and a whole pizza later, you felt a heavyweight on your shoulder and looked down. Bucky had fallen asleep and was softly snoring. You kissed his forehead and gently nudged him awake. He let out a whine that Sam would totally tease him for if he was here. “Come on, baby. A bed would be more comfortable, right?” 

Bucky stubbornly shook his head but got off the couch anyway. You turned off the TV and followed Buck to your room. You laid on your respected sides and without missing a beat, you pulled Bucky into your chest. He was tense but the fight quickly flew out of him and he was asleep in minutes. You smiled and closed your eyes and fell asleep to his soft breathing. 

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #marissa writes