#feel like there's room for me-shaped person in there. i could fit let me try atleast

[gtgbabie0]

Candlelit kisses

{When your apartment complex loses power you and Spencer have a sleepover leading you to both share your first kiss}

It’s a long one. Hope you enjoy lovelies!! 💕

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The last thing you were expecting today was a power cut this late into the night, and perhaps that’s why you let out a little yelp with a jump when Spencer knocks at your door causing you to almost drop the small tealight that you were lighting.

“Hey, is your power out too?” You ask, and he nods with a slightly frustrated sigh, his eyebrows knit together as he tries not to drop the papers and books he’s holding against his chest.

You and Spencer have been neighbours for a while now and somewhere along the line, you two got closer. He would come over almost every Friday, sometimes he even stayed over, well more like he would accidentally fall asleep and you never had the heart to wake him up.

“I can’t work like this” he complains walking into your apartment as he drops his work onto your kitchen table. You can practically feel the stress radiating from him as he rolls his shoulders, it was strange seeing him so tensed up.

You walk over to him with a flashlight, “Well hello to you too Spencer, oh yeah no, my day has been good” you sarcastically ramble, and he lets out a dry chuckle looking over at you as you sit down next to him.

“Sorry, I just— it’s a big inconvenience” he sighs once again as he rakes his fingers through his hair. Your hand rests on his shoulder as you give him a gentle look, soothing his arm.

You flick the flashlight on illuminating the table, “Yeah you’re telling me— but hey, I could be your very own personal lamp” you say trying to lighten up the mood, but your attempts are fruitless, and you frown when he shakes his head with a heavy sigh.

In all honesty, Spencer doesn’t want to do any work tonight. He wants to play silly board games with you, only to catch you cheating horribly and watch as you try and defend yourself through a fit of giggles. He wants, more than anything, to just hold you and go to sleep.

“Sorry, I just barged in here complaining- I’ll- I'll leave” he panics slightly. Your relationship is still new, everything felt so thrilling and Spencer is terrified of messing up somehow because he's so insanely in love with you. He doesn’t want to lose this feeling or you, ever.

“Spencer what?— don’t be silly, I don’t mind you staying here you know that” You try to stop him from gathering up his stuff but he’s stubborn as he makes his way towards your door, completely ignoring you.

He stops when you tug on his elbow, “Don’t leave, please” you mumble deciding to swallow your pride, “It’s really dark in here and I don’t want to be alone” you whisper, feeling a little childish but it was true nonetheless.

Your apartment was completely engulfed in darkness, the only thing lighting it was the small tealights that you scattered around, and the cool light of the moon, that splayed across the room. But yet even that made it seem scarier, something out of a horror movie.

Spencer thinks he might melt by how sweet you sound, you wanted him to stay and the thought of you needing him makes him feel all floaty inside.

“Okay, yeah I’ll stay,” he says, smiling softly as he watches your face light up with excitement. He wasn’t too much of a fan of the dark either, the mystery of what might linger within the shadows always seemed much too daunting. Something he couldn’t shake even as he got older.

You clasp your hands together with a smile, “Oh!- I have something actually” his eyebrows furrow with slight confusion as he watches you disappear into your bedroom, but not before your turn around, “I’ll be one second” you inform him, he responds with a quiet, ‘okay?’ Still confused by what’s going on in that wonderful mind of yours.

He sets his work back down on your kitchen table, deciding that it’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. You soon return with a globe-shaped night light in hand, “Spencer Reid, be prepared to be amazed” you smile, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little excited watching you click the batteries into the light.

You set it down on the coffee table before pressing the small button, a hopeful gleam in your eyes, silently praying that it will still work. And it does, the light shines in different colours projecting stars and moons onto the walls and ceiling. Spencer looks around the room, turning around as he does, admiring the way the room is suddenly lit up with warm colours.

“There was a study that found red to be the best colour to fall asleep to as it increases the production of melatonin,” he says, eyes still focused on the stars and moons that litter across the room in an orangey hue. He looks over to you and he goes to ramble off about night lights and their pros and cons but he finds himself completely taken back.

Spencer can practically feel the words leave his mind, and all his thoughts are replaced with you, how pretty you look underneath the warm light. He notices how your soft skin glows and the way your eyes seem to glisten, he doesn’t think there’s anyone in the world who compares to your beauty, in fact, he knows there isn’t. You’re so radiant, and he hopes that the smile your wearing is because of him.

You go bashful once you realise what’s happening, he’s looking at you as if you were a piece of art, sculpted by the gods. And he has those love-filled eyes, the same look he had when he finally asked you out on a date.

“You- you’re beautiful,” he tells you as if it was an undeniable fact, his voice so quiet that you almost miss it. Your smile breaks wider with his gentle words.

You can’t help but giggle, you felt so giddy inside. A feeling you haven’t felt in such a long time and it warms you. “Thank you Spence” you smile.

He feels almost prideful at your reaction, a feeling that settles in his chest blooming through to his heart and it takes his breath away, although you always have that effect on him no matter what you do.

There’s a beat of silence. “So, what about a game of Uno?” You suggest sitting down on the carpet as you reach for the box, patting the floor as an invitation for him to sit, “Loser pays for dinner” You wiggle your eyebrows and he chuckles joining you on the floor.

There is no winning when it comes to Spencer and board games, especially when it’s Uno. In all honesty, you regret going through the rules so intently with him. It’s impossible to win for a multitude of reasons. One because he’s so incredibly smart, and two because he’s a profiler, he can tell when you’re bluffing from a mile away.

So you’ve resorted to hiding cards underneath your thigh, and it worked for a solid minute, then he gives you a look as if to say ‘I know what you’re doing’ and the chuckle that unceremoniously leaves you doesn’t exactly help defend you.

“You’re totally cheating!” He claims, noticing how you’re three cards less than before. You gasp, a hand against your chest as you look at him with shock.

“Cheating? I wouldn’t” you exaggerate your offence, leaning forward to try and take a peak at his remaining cards, but he’s fast to hold them against his chest.

You take the cards from his hands, dodging his hands as he tries to grab them from you. “I would’ve won anyway, and you know it, that’s why hid those cards under your thigh- you know you probably would’ve won if you played your cards correctly, but you’re-” he blabs on, not even noticing how close you are to him. It’s not until your lips are against his that he completely falls silent, taken back by the sudden closeness.

You shock yourself a little too, it was almost as if you had no control it just happened. You push away from him, consumed by a sudden surge of panic.

“I’m so sorry Spencer- I” he grabs your hands before you lose yourself to your own worry, and beneath the dim lights you can see the slightest red dust against his cheeks.

“No!- it’s okay, I- I erm, I liked it actually” he tells you with an almost hopeful smile that you’ll do it again.

You smile back at him and this time you decide to simply ask, “Can I kiss you again? Properly this time” You study his face for any signs of discomfort, and there is none. He nods whispering a bashful, ‘Of course, you can'

And without missing a beat his hands rest on either side of your face and he meets you halfway, his supple lips against yours, a movement that seems to come so naturally to the pair of you. It’s sweet and gentle, and there’s the slightest taste of peppermint and something else, him.

Spencer thinks his heart might just jump out of his chest it’s beating so hard and he swears you hear it too or worse his thoughts. He can’t believe that this is happening, with you.

You tilt your head to urge him closer, your tongue against his and he loses himself. His hold changes as if he’s scared to let you go, that you might not be real, that all of this is just pretend. He kisses you with urgency as if you might just disappear.

You pull back to rest your forehead against his, “Spencer, I’m not going anywhere- you can slow down” you tell him, your tone so gentle as you take his hands guiding them away from your face to rest on your lap.

He nods against you, “I'm sorry- it just, feels too good to be true I guess” he admits, noticing the way you squeeze his hand, your thumb grazing against the curves of his knuckles.

“You don’t have to apologise- just know I’m not going anywhere, I’m staying right here with you” you whisper, brushing his hair behind his ear as you press a kiss to the tip of his nose, then another to his cheek then to the corner of his mouth and so on.

You pepper kisses against his face until he’s laughing, trying to push you away and the sound makes your heart clench with love, it’s something you’ll never grow tired of hearing.

“You're still paying for dinner by the way,” he says lips grazing against yours. And just when you’re about to kiss him, in an attempt to persuade him otherwise, the lights turn on and it’s then you can really see him, in much better lighting. Rosy cheeks and glossy love-sick eyes, and you think you fall for him ten times harder.

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[goldenhourwriter]

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one (you are here) • part two •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!

It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.

It’s nice.

I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.

Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?

It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.

And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.

Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?

My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.

“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.

“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.

“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”

I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.

She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.

“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”

“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”

My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”

I smile.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.

I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.

“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.

I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile

“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.

She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.

“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.

“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”

He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.

“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.

Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.

“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.

“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”

I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.

I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.

“What, never seen two married spiders?”

She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”

“What?”

“What? Nothing! Nothing!”

Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.

I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”

I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.

“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”

“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.

“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.

Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.

“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.

“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.

“Miguel! Watch-!“

I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.

“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.

I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.

I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.

I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.

She lands, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.

“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.

“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.

I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.

I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement

“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”

He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.

“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“

“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.

“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.

He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.

Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.

His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.

Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.

“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.

“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.

His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.

“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.

“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes.

“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.

“You did not just shush me,” I growl.

“Oh, I think I did.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”

Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.

Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.

The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.

“Yeah, well….”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Join the club.”

🕷️ 💍

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex x Reader x John Wick WIP Part 5!

Ready evil geniuses? @treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake

John lets you rest after wrecking you for the umpteenth time, disappearing off somewhere. You put off leaving the bedroom for as long as you can, but in the end you can't stand it anymore. You rummage in the closet for a new shirt. Your choices are black, black, and you'll never guess... black. 

This house must belong to John.

How many safe houses does that man have?

When you walk out of the bedroom in your new getup you find Tex in the living room watching TV. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“We have got to get you some clothes, baby girl.”

You shrug. The boxer t-shirt combo is actually pretty comfy.

You think you might make your way to the kitchen, but Tex snaps his fingers at you as you try to walk past.

You turn to look at him with a raised brow. 

“Can I help you?”

That was the wrong thing to say, obviously. 

His grin is that of a hungry wolf. 

“I bet you can. C'mere, darlin'.”

You sigh, but after your little lesson with John, you're not quite so inclined to defy him. 

Yet.

You're going to have to get smarter about how you expend your energy. 

Easier said than done. 

You pad over next to him. He pats his thigh in invitation, but you opt to sit next to him instead. This lasts for about two seconds, before he hauls you into his lap with his big hands and his strong arms.

Goddammit.

“That's better,” he says with a sly grin, holding you close. 

You take a moment to look at him—really look at him, from up close. The sweep of his almond shaped eyes, his high cheek bones and the short scruff of his beard. He stares back at you, unabashedly. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He narrows his eyes at you, bumping his forehead with yours. You wish it wasn't adorable. Fucking man child, making you feel things.

“Wanna watch tv?”

It beat anything else he could dream up, so you agree. You hadn't forgot that he still owed you for your flipping of the bird earlier. You're sure he hasn't either. 

He turns on some stupid gratuitous action flick, and you kind of zone out. Your thoughts drift to John, and the things he told you in-between fucking you silly. 

He'd said that he and Tex would not take on the FBI just for a plaything, or a whore. Deep down, you knew what that meant. 

It meant, they had no real intention of letting you go. The thought filled you with equal parts dread—and wonder. 

Why the fuck would not one, but two fine ass men like this want you, for keeps? It's beyond your comprehension—and if you're honest, kind of flattering. Bat shit fucking crazy, but flattering.

Either that, or it's just...convenient. Your circumstances created a perfect storm from which to snatch you without a trace or a person to care about getting you back.

"Want to see somethin'?" asks Tex, interrupting your reverie.

"Okay?"

He clicks play on the remote once he has your attention. You watch as a 1970s muscle car jumps an impossible ramp, then lands roughly on the other side of a canal. "That was me."

You lift an eyebrow, looking back at him. "In the car?"

"Yeah."

He's grinning like a little kid, clearly proud. 

"You were a stunt man?"

"Uh huh."

You tilt your head, trying to put pieces together and failing. The square block is not fitting in the circle hole. 

"Then why...?"

"Killin' people pays better, believe me. Less dangerous, too."

A chill runs down your spine. 

"Oh."

Your gaze drifts away, but he turns it back to him with a hand on your chin. Those jet black eyes bore into yours, like he can see into your soul. His eyes flick down to your mouth, a moment before he leans in to kiss you. Your first instinct is to offer teeth, before you remember if you have to have sex one more time in the next twenty-four hours, you might literally die. You slip your tongue into the seam of his lips, and feel him smile against your mouth. 

"Mmm. A man could get used to this."

He slides his hand up your thigh, fingertips sneaking past the loose hem of your boxer shorts. 

You wrap your fingers around his, praying. "Tex, please."

"Like the sound of that," he says between kisses, outmuscling you to move his hand higher.

"I'm so sore."

"Sounds like an excuse to me. John gets you to himself but I don't?"

"It's not my fault you're both hung like horses."

This appeal to his ego makes him grin. "Ain't you a lucky girl?"

"Only if you don't hurt me."

He has the gall to give you a pouty face. Again, it should be fucking ridiculous, but somehow it's cute. He cups the side of your face, pushing his thumb between your lips. "How sore is your mouth?" he asks, eyes glittering.

It's not high on your list of things you want to do, but you're having to weigh your options these days. You suck his thumb, and you swear you watch a fire ignite in his eyes.

"Also sore," you say around his digit, sounding ridiculous as he presses down on your tongue. Your jaws hurt. Even your mouth is bruised from kissing. Jesus. You're not a goddamn python.

You try to retreat, but he forces his thumb deeper.

Absolutely out of instinct to defend yourself, you start to bite him.

Maybe you stop yourself before it can hurt or you break skin, but for the wicked gleam in his eyes you know it doesn’t matter. Suddenly you find yourself flipped on your stomach over his lap, as though you are nothing but a doll.

“You are a nippy little thing, you know that?” When he wrenches down your boxers, propping your ass in the air with his trunk of a thigh beneath you, you’re afraid you know exactly what he has in mind.

“No—”

His hand between your shoulder blades pins you down. “You’re just going to make it worse for yourself,” he says in a sing-song tone, almost as though he hopes you will fight him more. His fingers fanned out over your butt cheek rub lightly, soothing over your copious bruises. It feels so good that the first stinging smack makes you jump sky-high.

“Hey!”

“Hush and take your licks, little girl.”

“I hate you!”

“I was gonna say five, for flippin’ me off, but now it’s six. Comprende?”

You whimper, but for the first time since this whole fiasco started, you do the smart thing and shut your dumb fucking mouth, hanging your head in the pillows with resignation.

He’s just spanking you, you reason. How bad can it be?

He has a hand like a catcher’s mitt and arms corded with muscle.

Bad. The answer, is bad.

Yet he doesn’t lay into you immediately, soothing you with featherlight touches over your buttocks and the backs of your thighs. That part feels good, actually, and fuck you if you don’t start to feel the stirrings of desire between your legs.

What. The ever loving. FUCK. Is wrong with you?

“So pretty,” he says, toying with the bend of your knee. It makes your toes curl, and he offers up a deep chuckle that you almost feel more than hear. “You like that?”

“Yes,” you answer meekly, closing your eyes.

“See, I can be sweet, if you’re sweet to me.”

The next smack on the other cheek makes you jump again, but this time you do not protest.

“Ahh. She can be taught.”

You whimper, but keep your expletives to yourself. This is not exactly what you would call sweet…but the contrast of the stinging blows with his featherlight touch afterwards is doing things to you that you do not understand.

“Take this off,” he demands, lifting the hem of your shirt up your back.

For once, you obey him the first time, squirming in your awkward position on your belly and pulling it over your shoulders, leaving you bare and totally exposed upon his lap. He runs his fingers up the curve of your spine, making you shudder upon him. You can’t see his smug grin, but you know, you just fucking know it’s there.

Smack.

You can’t help but cry out, but the pleasure and the pain is strangely starting to meld together. Your treacherous, stupid little cunt has begun to throb, and as his fingers caress dangerously close to your crease you find that you wish he would touch you there.

By the time he’s finished with your licks you are a finely trembling, aching mess on his lap, your fingers like claws in the throw pillow, your ass in the air as though begging for it of its own volition.

Finally he does dip his thick fingers into your weeping slit, groaning to himself for the wetness he finds there. He circles your bud with the thick tip of his finger, making you moan and arch into him like the stupid little hypocrite you are.

“That’s a mighty nice little pussy you’ve got there,” he says, his voice turned pure gravel with desire. “Too bad you’re too sore.”

He withdraws and shoves you off his lap as he stands, leaving you in a heap of pliable naked limbs on the couch. The frustrated sound that escapes your throat is barely human, and the grin he pays you is the baring of teeth from a predator to a rabbit across the wood.

“Now don’t let me catch you touchin’ yourself,” he warns, looming over you. “You won’t like what happens next.”

 On that note he struts off, and you watch him go with a glare, unable to stop yourself from thinking he has the nicest, tightest little butt this side of the Mississippi river.

Bastard.

[itsbubbleteataro]

Hehe inspiration is fun

I'm kinda in the mood for some angst so let's get to it! I ended up getting inspired by one of my favorite songs by my favorite band.

Please enjoy!

Pairing; human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

Warning; Alastor being Alastor, death, gore, murder, cannibalism 

Six feet under the stars

Summer of 1932 in New Orleans

You and Alastor had been living together for quite some time now. You moved in with him around two years ago and have been engaged for a little over two months now.

Tonight was a rare night where Alastor had gone out again for both a hunt and a surprise for you. Yes, you knew about his hunts and to be honest you didn't mind them. I mean you yourself had been doing something similar.

You were the daughter of a tea salesman and were well versed in the art of tea. Sometimes when dealing with a rather rude customer as you worked at your father's shop, you snuck a little something extra into the teabag, just a pinch of arsenic. Okay well maybe not just a pinch but enough to kill a man.

Anyways you looked at yourself in the mirror checking your appearance once more in the mirror. You wore a simple sundress as it's the summer and summer in the bayou can get quite hot and swampy.

You looked at the paper on the dining room table double checking where it said to meet Alastor. You laced up your boots with the heels before you stepped outside, walking down to Thames street where your lover wait for you.

*******

When you approached your fiancé you saw that he had changed out of his hunting clothes, he must have stopped at home while you were busy getting yourself ready.

With a hum the two of you linked arms and walked towards the outskirts of a different part of the bayou. Don't get me wrong, Alastor still knew this part very well and you trusted him in every way shape and form and in turn he trusted you. Trusted you enough to see him covered in blood, eating human hearts, even his hair in its naturally curly state.

Alastor lead you over to a waiting blanket and picnic basket, taking your hand he brought you to sit down.

"I was hoping we could have a lovely picnic this fair evening baby" 

His eyes shown in the low lighting. You swooned. He was always doing sweet things like this for you. You helped him set up the food, your matching engagement rings sparkling in the starlight. He had picked out matching rings himself, the main stone in yours being a ruby with small diamonds around it. A blood red stone, fitting choice for two serial killers.

About halfway through your evening you both had finished the food. It was one of the rare occasions that you too indulged in the taste of human flesh. Your head was against his shoulder as you watched the fireflies dance in the distance, taking in each others peace when you felt Alastor stiffen.

You were pulling your head back to ask what was the matter when you felt it, a scorching, red hot, searing pain in your shoulder. Your hand flies to your shoulder as a scream is ripping from your throat. Alastor's eyes widen and for the first time in a long time he feels terror make its way into his heart.

You, his love, had been shot by a clumsy hunter who had mistaken the two of you for a pair of bobcats out of all things.

You hunched over, eyes full of tears as you even try to process of what happened when a second shot rings out, this one hitting your torso.

Alastor was furious, quickly confronting the hunter who had yet to realize that he had infant shot a person. All you could hear was the hunters scream as Alastor quite literally ripped him apart with his blade.

He first cut the tendons in the hunters legs so he couldn't run, then sliced the ones in his hands so he can't fight back. Then he stabbed and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed, stopping only after he had plunged his blade between the fools eyes and twisted it.

By the time he had finished with the hunter he turned to you. Quickly going down to you he held you in his arms. His hands were shaking and he was covered in both your blood and the hunters blood.

You were losing blood fast and you both knew it.

"I should have known better than to call you out tonight-"

"Oh hush up love"

You cut him off. You didn't want him blaming himself for your death. You knew you were going to die when you felt your fingers starting to tingle from blood loss.

Alastor gripped your face with one of his hands,

"My dear, I fear that if you're gone I won't be able to hold back. I may just tear this place apart."

Alastor choked out, feeling tears well in his eyes. You took a shaking breath, leaning into his touch.

"Then tear the world apart if you so desire. Just as long as you promise to meet me again someday"

Alastor nodded his head, his heart breaking in two as your voice became weaker and weaker.

"I love you Alastor"

You reached a hand up to his cheek, rubbing it gently.

"I love you too (y/n)"

Upon hearing such words you know that your body won't be long for this world. You let a gentle smile rest upon your lips, pulling his cheek weakly in an attempt for him to do the same.

He gets the message and forces himself to smile as tears rundown his cheeks. With one last breath your eyes flutter shut, your hand slipping from his face and your soul plummeting straight down to hell.

He holds your body close and sobs. The smile never leaving his face as he does. He sits back up, packing up the picnic and stuffing it all in the basket, blanket it and all. He pushes his arm through the loop of the basket so he can pick up your lifeless body.

He makes his way back to your shared cabin walking through the bayou as he didn't want anyone thinking he had killed you, his precious lover.

He knew he would have to give you the best burial money could buy, so he did just that. Your tombstone was made of marble, your name engraved as "(y/n) Hartfelt".

The day he buried you was one of the worst days of his life, right up when he had buried his mother. He visited your grave daily, telling you about his day. His never stopped grieving.

Fall of 1933

Alastor had been shot burying a body. He had gotten sloppy after your death, his hunts becoming more erratic as he worked through his loss. A hunter had mistaken him for a deer.

First his love had been mistaken for a bobcat and now him a deer, how fate has a way of working.

He welcomed his death, being found with a smile etched on his face for he knew that he could finally reunite with his lover as his soul plummeted down to hell.

He had a matching tombstone to yours, it being placed in the grave yard next to yours. As his coffin was lowered down into the ground and the dirt piled on, he rest easy.

As the two of you could finally be reunited,

Six feet under the stars



[tayrae515imagines]

Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take It Off.

Requested: Nope! I just love Jake Seresin.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of death. Losing a parent. Brief mentions of smut. Non-consensual  touching (on the face for about two seconds.) Poorly grieving with death. Probably grammar, spelling or punctuation errors. Just go with it. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Fem!Kazansky!Reader (Call Sign: Frosty)

Type: Angst with a happy ending 

Summary: Inspired heavily on Dress by Taylor Swift. 

Y/N’s relationship with the one and only Jake Seresin has always been difficult to say the least. The two banter back and forth, constantly flirting or taunting each other. They have never been more than friendenemies at best until one day they weren’t and Y/N finds herself yearning for the one man who drives her absolutely crazy. 

Authors Note:  So I have seen Top Gun Maverick about twelve+ times since it came out about a year ago now. I just love it so much. It has easily become one of my favorite movies. From the storyline to the characters and overall movie aesthetic. I have spent the past few weeks reading nothing but Jake fics and felt like writing one myself. 

I have not written anything in a very very veryyyy long time. So this honestly could be bad. But, with that being said, I am so happy with the direction this went in and it feels good to have written again. Please let me know your thoughts. :) I do also want to point out I have somewhat changed the timeline of the movie to fit my story. Thank you so much for reading!

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

“You know, sometimes it physically pains me to hold back my sarcastic remarks around you.”

“Don’t hold back on my account darlin’.” That sickeningly sweet, southern draw floats by Y/N’s ear, making the girl roll her eyes.

The voice belongs to none other than Jake “Hangman” Seresin. The one person who seems to always get under Y/N’s skin despite her normally unbothered demeanor. 

Frosty was the callsign Y/N had been gifted. Partly due to her cold and calm demeanor and another part due to her infamous father Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. Y/N had grown up admiring her father, wanting nothing more than to be like him one day. From a very young age the girl knew she was meant to be a pilot.

There was no denying that Y/N was given chances others weren’t but that didn’t mean the girl didn’t work just as hard as others, if not harder. Which is how she ended up back at Top Gun among the best of the best. One of which just happened to be the only man who managed to drive her mad. 

“Bagman..I mean this in the most unloving way. Fuck off.” 

“You wound me Frost.” The man put a hand over his heart in mock heartbreak. The girl rolled her eyes again as Jake leaned closer. “But if I’m going to fuck anything, it’s you.” 

Y/N could feel the smirk on Jake’s face without even facing him. The girl was used to being flirted with, Navy men could be pigs at times. Normaly, it didn’t phase her in the slightest but for some reason, when it came to Jake Fucking Seresin, she just couldn’t help the flutter she felt in her heart.

 “In your dreams Seresin.” She managed to get out, desperately trying to hide the blush rising on her cheeks. 

“Trust me darlin, it is.” He winked and walked out of the room. Leaving Y/N to let out the breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding. The only thing the girl knew for sure, is no one has ever made her heart race like he did. 

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from all this (ah, ha, ha, ha)

The day was hot and that was putting it mildly. When you pair the sweltering California heat with the suffocating flight suit and heavy helmet, the weather felt like hell.

All Y/N wanted to do was get to the locker room and take a shower. The girl wanted it so bad she could imagine the shocking feel of ice cold water against her sweat covered skin. That thought alone brought a smile to her face. After a long day of stressful training, she just wanted to relax. Unfortunately for her, someone had other plans.

“We all know you are only in this program because your daddy pulled some strings. You can pretend otherwise but I know the truth.” The deep voice floats down the hall behind Y/N, causing the girl to turn around with a raised brow. 

“Do you think you are the first person to have said that to me?” The girl crossed her arms, glaring at the man standing in front of her. She recognized him from around base. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he did here but in her defense, she had been too busy with training and class to meet many people other than her teammates.

“Probably not but it doesn’t make it less true. You don’t deserve to be here.” 

“Listen fucker. I have had a rough day. I am hot, I am hungry, and I am tired. I do not need to stand here and justify myself to some dip shit who decided to share his opinion with the class. Just walk away.” 

The man smirked and stepped closer to Y/N, forcing her back towards the cold beige wall as she moved to step away from him. His grimy hands reached out and stroked the girl's cheek. “I think you just need to be taught a lesson, maybe put that dirty mouth to work on something else.” 

“You son of a bit-”

“Is everything alright here?” That familiar voice rings out, causing Y/N to turn her head towards the tall figure walking in her direction. 

“Yeah  man, me and my girl were just chatting.” The shorter man, Y/N had mentally nicknamed douchebag said. 

“Funny. Doesn’t look like Frost is in the mood to chat with you.” Jake walked closer, physically moving douchebags hand away from the girl. “I also heard everything you said..if you’re going to talk shit, maybe make sure you don’t have an audience. I doubt you would want admiral Simpson or captain Mitchell to find out how you treat one of your coworkers. Sounds like grounds for dismissal to me.”

At Jake's words, douchebag pales, taking another step back. “Look I’m sorry I-”

“If I ever hear you talking about my friend again, I will personally make sure you never talk again. Frost is a better pilot than most of us, hell she is a better pilot than me. Now if you ever touch her again, I will leave you so unrecognizable, your mother won’t be able to identify the body. Get the hell out of here before I show you I’m serious.” Jake growled out the words and the other man ran off. Letting out a breath, Jake  turned towards the girl and calmed down. “You alright Frosty?” 

“I could have handled that prick.”

Jake smirked at the girl and tilted his head. “You know, a thank you would suffice.”

Y/N sighed and looked up at Jake. “Thank you Hangman.” 

“Anything for you darlin. Only I am allowed to taunt you.” He trailed his green eyes down her face, taking in every feature until he stopped at her soft lips. 

“My knight in shining armor.” The girl meant to be sarcastic but the words came out in no more than a soft breath, her own gaze going to Jake’s lips. “You said I’m a better pilot than you.”

“Did I?” Jake said softly, brushing some hair out of the girl's face as the two drifted towards each other, lips almost touching until a bang of a door had them jumping away from each other. 

“There you are Frosty, I’ve been looking for you all day. Let's go get lunch.” Rooster made his way over, throwing an arm around his best friend, oblivious that he just ruined the moment. “Hangman.” He nodded at the blonde and led the girl out, talking her ear off about god knows what. 

Y/N couldn’t focus on a thing Rooster said as she glanced back at the man she left alone in the hall. Her eyes connected with his green ones, the look in them so intense and full of longing, she had to look away. 

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

“Hangman, hottie checking you out at 12 o’clock.” Coyote said, interrupting Y/N’s thoughts as the girl stared at the cold beer in her hand. The dagger squad had decided to utilize their day off with a trip to The Hard Deck. The group hadn’t been there long before practically all of the women (and some men) in the bar started giving suggestive looks to the team. Y/N really couldn’t blame them. Everyone on her team was unnaturally attractive. 

“Oh trust me Coyote. I saw her. And I think the lady looks thirsty, maybe I should fix that.” Jake smirked and walked over to his admirer. 

Y/N tried desperately not to stare at them but she just couldn't look away. The brunette's hand, resting on Jake's arm as she gave him a flirty smile. Y/N didn’t need to see Jake's face to know he was eating this up. 

Y/N couldn’t understand why she felt a pang in her chest at seeing him flirting with someone else. It’s not much of a secret that Jake is a flirt. And it’s not like she had any sort of relationship with Jake other than friendenemies, if you can even call it that. 

“Frost there is a cutie staring at you too.” Phoenix spoke up, grabbing Y/N’s attention away from Jake. The girl followed the direction Phoenix was looking in and sure enough, a tall dark haired man shot her a wink. “Go get him to buy you a drink.” Phoenix smirked and helped the girl up. 

Sucking in a breath, Y/N put on her best confident smile and walked towards the man. 

“Hello gorgeous. Sorry for staring, I just couldn’t look away from you.” 

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Y/N said softly.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure, I’d like that.” Y/N gave the man a genuine smile and sat down at the bar next to him. 

The conversation was pleasant enough. The man who Y/N learned was named Greg, made her laugh. But the same gnawing feeling ached within her..he was kind, funny, handsome even. But he was no Jake. 

“Would you like to dance Y/N?” Greg smiles brightly, holding his hand out while his blue eyes sparkled under the bar lights. 

“Sure.” Y/N finished off her beer and walked towards the jukebox with Greg, his hands resting on her hips while she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m a horrible dancer so this swaying is the most you’re getting out of me.” The girl laughed softly.

“I’ll take anything you’re willing to give me as long as I can hold you this close.” Greg smiled and pulled her closer to him, his eyes drifting down to her lips. 

Y/N could tell Greg wanted to kiss her and maybe a part of her wanted him to. But, every urge the girl felt to make a move with Greg, she felt a more intense one to run towards Jake.

 It was a stupid ache that she couldn’t shake and the most infuriating thing about it was she didn’t understand why. Most of the conversations Y/N and Jake had were them taunting each other. When did taunting turn into more for her and does Jake feel the same? She doubted it by the way he had flocked to the first pretty girl to bat her eyes at him. That thought alone made her move towards Greg and pull back from her Jake filled thoughts. 

“You can kiss me Greg.” The girl said softly, looking at his lips. Greg didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned in slowly, trying to savor the moment and right as their lips were about to touch, that familiar honeyed voice Y/N has grown to crave,  rang out next to her. 

“Frosty.” 

Y/N pulled back slowly, turning towards Jake. “I’m a little busy here Hangman.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Jake said flatly, not sparing a glance at Greg. “I was just wondering if your little dance partner knew about your extremely high risk job and the ramifications of dating a pilot. Especially a pilot like you.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Y/N gritted her teeth and looked up at him. 

Greg looked between you both and moved his hands off your hips. “Look, you’re great Y/N. Really great, but I don't want to get involved in the middle of this.” He motioned between the two pilots. “It was nice to meet you, thank you for a fun night.” He kissed her cheek and walked off. 

“What the hell was that?!” Y/N turned to Jake, anger burning in her eyes. 

“I was just trying to stop you from making a mistake, Frosty. You can do better than that guy.”

“You don’t know a thing about him. God, that’s not even an opinion for you to have! You just wanted to be an ass per usual and ruin my night. Well great fucking job Hangman, you succeeded so you can run back to your new lady friend and leave me the hell alone!” The girl stormed out the bar doors, anger coursing through her so strongly, she was shaking.

 Unbeknownst to her, Jake followed her right out those doors. He wasn’t about to let her leave when she was so angry. 

“Y/N.” 

“Please Jake just go inside and leave me alone.” Y/N turned away from him, wiping the tears off her cheeks that were now freely flowing from her eyes. 

Everything was just too much. Too much disappointment, too much heartbreak, and too much yearning for something she couldn’t have. 

“Y/N.” Jake gently put his hand on her shoulder, turning the girl to face him. “I’m sorry I ruined your night darlin. That was not my intention.”

“No? Then what was your intention Jake because I do not understand.” Y/N wiped the last of her tears away and looked up into Jake’s green eyes. “I don’t understand any of this.” 

“I was jealous.” 

“Jealous? Jake, what are you talking about? You are the one who went to flirt with that gorgeous girl!”

“No, I didn’t. I bought her a drink, told her I appreciate her interest but it would never work out with us because I am crazy about someone else! I told her I knew another wonderful man she would like and introduced her to Bob! They are still in there talking if you don’t believe me. I wanted to talk to you! I wanted to flirt with you!  And I wanted to dance with you but when I found you, some other guy was trying to kiss you and it drove me crazy!”

All the breath left Y/N when she saw the sincerity in Jake’s eyes. Jake gently cupped the girls cheek, wiping away any stray tears. “I only want you darlin, and it drives me absolutely mad. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. All I can do is think about you and it has been that way since I met you.”

“Since you met me?” The girl gave him an amused smile.

“Oh yeah.” Jake flashed her his toothy grin. “Apparently you telling me to fuck off really got me hooked on you.”

Y/N laughed and moved closer to Jake. “Well apparently your asshole ways worked on me too. I didn’t want him, I just wanted a distraction from you.”

“I’m going to kiss you now Darlin.”

“Please do Jake.” 

Jake wasted no time. He pulled the girl flush against him and connected their mouths. His lips warm against hers, breathing each other in with the intensity of the kiss. At that moment, there was no such thing as enough. The couple couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t kiss hard enough. Couldn’t get enough of each other. 

Soon Jake had Y/N pressed against his truck, her dress riding dangerously high up on her thigh. Jake pulled back from the kiss just enough to whisper against the girl's now puffy lips. “I love this fucking dress on you. It’s been killing me all night.” 

“Good.” Y/N whispered back. “I bought it for you.” 

Jake groaned and played with the hemmed edge of her red sundress. “Let me take it off.”

“Fuck, yes please.” The girl groaned and moved a hand into his hair. 

Jake opened the back door to his truck and set the girl inside gently before hovering over her. He pushed the skirt up to her hips, exposing a pair of lace panties. Jake groaned when he noticed the wet spot, darkening the blue lace. “Fuck darlin, did I make you this wet?”

“Yes Jake, only you.” Y/N moaned as the man ran his finger over her clothed slit. 

Jake looked down at the girl, a smirk plastered on his face. “All mine pretty girl. You’re all mine.”

“Yours.” Y/N breathed, looking into his love filled green eyes. “I’m all yours.”

Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try

And if I get burned, at least we were electrified

I'm spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we're both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us

But they know nothing about

The temperature outside was getting increasingly warmer and Y/N’s father, Iceman decided to have the dagger squad over for a pool party. The older man wanted to meet her team and more importantly, the man who had stolen his daughter's heart. 

Y/N never openly told her parents about her new boyfriend but they knew her well. Especially her father. He saw the way the girl's eyes lit up whenever she talked about a certain pilot and he couldn’t help but want to know more. 

The devastating reality was that he didn’t have much time left. But, with what he did have, he wanted to make sure his daughter was putting her faith in the right people. Iceman was no stranger to the egos aviators could have and his little girl had worked her ass off to get where she was. She had proven herself to be more than just her last name. He had to make sure that this Hangman had no intention of hurting her. The other part of him was just genuinely curious. He had never seen her act this way about a boyfriend before. 

For a short time when Y/N was growing up, Iceman thought maybe her childhood friend Bradley Bradshaw could be the one. He changed his mind when he saw that the two were better in a platonic way. Sometimes even referring to each other as brother and sister. 

“Dad, can I get you another drink?” Y/N walked outside to where Iceman was sitting with Rooster. 

“No, I’m alright sweetheart.” He smiled softly at his daughter.

“If you’re offering, I’ll take another beer.” Rooster spoke up.

“I don’t remember offering you one Roos but fine. Because I’m in a good mood.” She teased and walked back to the kitchen to grab herself and Rooster a drink. 

Iceman turned to Rooster after he made sure Y/N had left. “Tell me about this Hangman I keep hearing about.”

“Hangman? Why do you want to know about him?” Rooster finished off the rest of his current beer and looked at Iceman “Wait..Hangman is Frosty’s mystery man?”

“It seems that way. I can tell by the way she talks about him.” 

“I should have seen that coming with the way those two teased each other.” Rooster leaned back in his chair and sighed. “If you asked me a few months ago I would tell you he was the worst. But he has changed. Especially around her. I thought it was just because they had been flying together more. Obviously that's not it.” Rooster pushed the aviators up his nose. “He has an ego, but, he’s kinda like young Mav from the stories you’ve told me. He likes to push limits and always be the best but he is reliable at the end of the day, if they really are together, he’d do anything for her. I know he would. You know I love Frosty and if I thought he’d hurt her, well I’d be trying to drown him in the pool when he gets here.”

“I might have just let you.” Iceman smiled slightly, sipping his iced tea. 

“Frosty can handle herself and I trust Hangman with her. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

“Glad to hear what?” Y/N walked over, claiming one of the empty chairs at the table while she handed Rooster his beer. 

“Nothing sweetheart.” Ice smiled and looked towards the kitchen. “Does your mother need any help?” 

“Nope, Phoenix and Bob have taken over the kitchen with her. Mom also said and I quote. “If your father tries to get up and help me instead of relaxing, I will wack him on the head.” I think it’s safe to assume she wants you to stay sitting today.”

 Iceman laughed softly and nodded. “I love that woman.” 

“I know you do, dad.” Y/N smiled and put her hand over his, occasionally glancing towards the front door, waiting for that familiar blonde to show up. 

“Looking for someone?” Rooster smirked and nudged Y/N’s arm.

“No..why are you both being weird?” 

“No reason.” Rooster smirked again and sipped his beer, sharing a glance with the older man. 

“Okay you are being very cryptic today Roos. It’s weird. Knock it off..” Y/N trailed off when she heard the sweet sound of that southern draw she loved so much. “Hangman is here.” She stood quickly and walked to greet him. She thought she was being sneaky with her emotions, but her father did not miss the sparkle of absolute love in her eyes.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah)

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from all this (ah, ha, ha, ha)

“You’re here.” Y/N smiled, walking into the living room where Jake stood with her mother. 

“Course I am Frost. I’d never say no to a party and I’m very eager to meet your parents.” He smiled at Y/N and turned to her mother “I brought these for you mam, as a thank you for having me in your home.” He held up the small bouquet of flowers he had meticulously picked out before coming over. 

“Oh that is so sweet! Thank you Jake. Please make yourself at home and let me know if you need anything.” She started walking towards the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase but turned back to her daughter before reaching the room. ‘I like him’ she mouthed, causing Y/N to blush and turn back to the man in front of her. 

“So you are on a first name basis with my mom already. Impressive.” 

“What can I say? Ladies find me charming. And Sarah is a peach.” He flashed her a grin and brushed his hand against hers. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too Jake. Thank you for coming..I mean it.” 

“Honey you know I wouldn’t miss this, it’s important to you.” He took her hand and kissed it gently. “I will admit, I am slightly nervous to meet your father.” 

“Oh yeah? That’s adorable.” She smirked up at him. 

“I am adorable, it’s a known fact.” Jake smirked and pinched her hip with his free hand. “So are you going to show me your childhood bedroom? I am excited to see it..do you have boy band posters?” 

“Shut up Jake.” She laughed softly. “Rooster is outback with my dad. I think Coyote made his way out there too. I’ll grab you a beer and we can go out there?”

“Sounds perfect pretty girl.” He kissed her cheek gently and walked outback with her after stopping to get him a beverage. 

“Dad this is Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman. He’s a part of my squad and…my boyfriend.” She cleared her throat and looked around at everyone who had joined them outside. 

“Boyfriend? Since when?!” Phoenix whispered to Bob who shrugged behind them.

“Since our night at The Hard Deck Phoenix. You didn’t notice?” He whispered back.

“But that was almost a month ago…” She mumbled.

“It’s an honor to meet you sir.” Jake ignored his friends surprise and held his hand out with a smile. 

“You as well son. I have heard some incredible things about you.” Iceman took his hand and shook it, motioning to an empty chair with his other hand. 

“Are you bragging about me darlin?” Jake grinned and looked at Y/N, taking a seat at the table. 

“Absolutely not, your ego does not need to get any bigger.” Y/N playfully scoffed and took her own seat by him. 

“It’s cute that you’re impressed by me. I’m impressed by you too.” He grinned and took her hand, kissing it softly. 

Iceman watched the way Jake held her hand so tenderly and looked at Y/N with the same love sick expression the girl had shown for him earlier. It was clear to her father from that moment he truly had nothing to worry about. Jake Seresin was in love with his daughter and she was in love with him. 

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

The bright sun had faded into warm hues of orange and pink, reflecting off the crisp blue pool water as Y/N leaned against Jake. The man’s hand played with her fingers as he held her close, absolutely at peace. 

“Jake?” 

“Yes baby?”

“Are you happy?” The girl turned in his arms gently, looking into his gorgeous green eyes. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course I’m happy. I have you.” He brought a hand up and cupped her cheek gently. “Why are you asking?” 

“I don’t know. This all just feels too good to be true. Today was great and I’m slightly convinced this is a dream. It could be all the alcohol though.”

Jake let out a soft chuckle and pinched the girl's hip, causing her to pout at him. “Not a dream darlin. This is real.” He leaned his head down and kissed her once. “This is all I have wanted for years. Even when we were stationed apart. I craved you. I knew even then that I wanted you to be mine. I plan on putting a ring on this finger someday Y/N. That is how crazy I am about you.” He took her hand again and kissed her ring finger. 

“You’re going to make me cry.” Y/N laughed softly and leaned her head on his. 

Jake chuckled and kissed the girl’s hand once more. “One day. I promise.” 

“One day.” Y/N smiled widely and kissed both of Jake’s cheeks. “I should go see if my mom needs help with the dishes.” Y/N slowly moved out of Jake's arms. “Do you want anything else to drink?”

“I’m alright darlin.” He smiled and kissed her hand before letting her go, unaware of Iceman making his way over.

“I’ve never seen her this happy before.” Iceman said and took a seat next to Jake. “Thank you for making her smile like that. It makes me feel better knowing she will have you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for loving her. I couldn’t help it even if I wanted to. She is the most wonderful woman I have ever met.”

Iceman smiled and patted Jake’s arm. “She is wonderful. But you still chose to be there for her every day. It means a lot to me and my wife. You are exactly the type of man I was hoping she would end up with.” Iceman sighed softly. “I don’t have much time left son. I know my family will be devastated which breaks my heart more than I can express, but when it comes to Y/N, I am worried. She shuts down. She pushes people away when she needs them most, she has done it since she was a child. I’m not sure if it makes her feel protected or if she thinks she needs to heal alone but I don't want that for her. Do not let her push you away. She needs you, and son, I can tell you need her too. Promise me?” 

Jake turned to Iceman and swallowed down his emotion, eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“I promise sir.” 

“Thank you. You’re a good man Jake Seresin.” Iceman smiled and patted his shoulder again. 

“I-I know this is a bit premature but I fully intend on marrying your daughter one day sir. Maybe I am a bit old fashioned but I think it is respectable to get your permission first.” 

“You have it son.” Iceman smiled warmly and stood slowly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, all this talk about love has me missing my wife.” The older man made his way inside to find his wife as Jake watched, hoping one day this would be him and Y/N.

Flashback when you met me

Your buzzcut and my hair bleached

Even in my worst times

You could see the best of me

Flashback to my mistakes

My rebounds, my earthquakes

Even in my worst lies

You saw the truth in me

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My one and only, my lifeline

I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My hands shake, I can't explain this ah, ha, ha, ha

Y/N has barely spoken a word since she got the news. Now, standing next to her mother and siblings, staring at her fathers casket, she feels like she may never speak again. The air around them holds solemn tension as people mourn. Tears fall but it’s nothing but quiet for the man being laid to rest. 

As the flag is being folded and the trumpets are playing, Y/N absentmindedly pinches her arm, desperately trying to wake up from this nightmare. She had just talked to her father last night, they made plans. The reality of him being gone just seemed too unreal for Y/N to fathom. 

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this was remotely fair and it drove Y/N crazy. Her father was one of the most caring and wonderful people she had ever had the luck of knowing. He didn’t deserve this. 

Tears fell down her cheeks and Y/N let them flow freely. The girl felt numb and something as simple as wiping them away felt impossible. She felt heavy, wondering if the crowd around her could tell she was dying inside. 

“Y/N, can you hear me?” The words broke through the surface of her numbness, bringing the girl back to the present as she looked up to Maverick standing in front of her. 

“Sorry..I’m sorry.” She said softly and wiped her tears quickly. 

“Don’t apologize. You just lost your father..I know how that feels and if you need anything, you know you can talk to me.” Maverick rubbed the girl's arm gently. 

“Thank you Uncle Mav. I’m going to be okay..they need me to be.” She breathed out, looking towards her crying mother. 

“Y/N, you do not need to be strong for anyone right now.” 

“I’m fine Mav.” She snapped and sighed in regret. “I’m sorry..”

“It’s okay sweetheart.” Mav hugged her softly, only letting go when he noticed Jake and Bradley approaching. The tallest of the pair pulled Y/N into his arms tightly, whispering comforting things into her hairline while the girl stayed stiff, drifting back into the heavy waters. 

Jake noticed almost immediately and patted Bradley’s shoulder. “Can you give us a minute Rooster?”

Bradley nodded slowly and let the girl go. “I’m going to check on your mom but if you need me, just yell.” He kissed her head and led Mav over to the girl's family. 

Jake cupped the girl's face gently, wiping away some stray tears. “Hi baby”

Y/N looked up at Jake, bottom lip wobbling as she felt overwhelming tears coming. “Will you take me home? Please?” 

“Of course baby. Whatever you need.”

“I can’t have what I need.” The girl whispered out, her gaze floating towards the casket once again.

Days passed in a blur and Y/N was merely surviving. 

She stuck to her routine. Eat, when she could stomach it. Sleep, when she could turn her mind off. Work, when she wasn’t grounded, which was all the time lately. People were worried about her. From Admiral Simpson, to Maverick, to the dagger squad,  they did not want the girl in the air. 

The person who was most worried, of course, was Jake. He could see her pulling away, closing herself off and trying to heal on her own just like Iceman had warned him would happen.

He had been staying at the girl's place for over a week just to keep an eye on her. Jake didn’t push her at first. He gave her some time to digest everything while he watched from the distance, making sure she didn’t drift too far into herself. But he saw her getting pulled under the surface of those internal waves. He could see her drowning. And enough was enough. 

“Frosty, darlin, I made your favorite for dinner.” Jake called out while walking towards the living room where the girl was seated on the couch. 

“I’m not hungry Jake.”

“You haven’t eaten anything all day Y/N. Just come take a few bites. I won’t be offended if you don’t finish it all. I do have to warn you though, I am an excellent cook.” He sat on the couch by her and put a hand on her knee gently.

“I said I’m not hungry!” Y/N snapped and stood quickly, his hand falling from her knee. 

“Y/N..I’m just trying to help.”

“Well I don’t need your help Jake. I am a grown woman and I can take care of myself. Just go home. Please!” 

“No.” Jake said quickly and stood. 

“No? This is my apartment!”

“I’m well aware Y/N but I am not leaving you like this. I am not letting you push me away because you think that is easier. I promised your father I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“You w-what?” Y/N looked up at Jake, tears building up in her sore eyes. 

“He made me promise because he knew you well. I told him I would not let you self-destruct and I am keeping that promise.”

“Well you’re off the hook now, he’s dead so he’ll never know! “

“God damnit Y/N.” Jake stepped closer to her and took both her hands in his. “Even if I didn’t make that promise I would still be here taking care of you.” 

“Why?” 

“Why? Why am I here for you? Because I love you Y/N! I want to be here for you. I want to hold you and take care of you. I want to bring you back to yourself because this is not you. You are mourning and that is understandable but you are barely living right now. You haven’t called your mom back in days. Your mother who you used to talk to every damn day. Fuck, Y/n, you have Cyclone worried that is how messed up you are right now. So please, if you can’t do this for yourself, do it for everyone who loves you including your dad because I know he is watching over you. Let me help you heal.”

“I miss him.” Y/N broke down in sobs, gripping the man's shirt for support. 

“I know sweetheart. I know.” He pulled her into his arms and rubbed her back. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay Y/N.” He kissed her head gently. 

“I love you so much Jake.” She clung to him as he let her sob. Body shaking, gut wrenching sobs. But Jake never let go. 

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Three months later and Y/N was feeling like her old self again. She had reconnected with her teammates, spent time with her family, and was even flying again. The pain of losing her father had not left completely. The absence of him was still very much felt, but the pain wasn’t crippling anymore. She had a life to live and she knew Iceman would want her to make the most of it. 

Tonight in particular was special. The dagger squad was currently occupying most of The Hard Deck, celebrating a successful mission. Music was loud, drinks were flowing, and the company was comforting.  

Y/N felt at home among her found family. She sang along with Rooster when he played Great Balls of Fire, like he always does. She danced with Bob, beat Javy at pool with Phoenix, and was smiling so much, her face hurt. 

After all of the sorrow and heartbreak, this was what she needed. By the end of the night, the girl was feeling lighter than she had in months. Jake noticed it too. He could see the sparkle in her eyes, the light in her smile. It pulled on his heart, just making him fall more hopelessly in love with her. 

“You’re staring at me honey. It’s getting weird now.” Y/N approached Jake and handed him a fresh beer. 

“I can’t help myself darlin. You’re stunning.” He put a hand on her lower back and pulled her to him. 

“My, my Hangman. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were smitten.”

“Baby I am hopeless when it comes to you. Head over heels, willing to do some embarrassing stuff to prove my love to you kind of hopeless.” 

The girl tipped her head back and laughed softly, the sound music to Jake’s ears. “What kind of embarrassing stuff?”

“We’ll have to find out another day.” Jake kissed her nose.

Y/N laughed again, leaning into him. “I love you Jake.” 

“I love you too Y/N.” He kissed her once and leaned his head on hers, pulling the girl ever closer than before. 

Y/N looked up at him, eyes bright and smile wide. “You still want to marry me?”

“One day” Jake smiled down at the girl, wrapping his arms around her.

“One day.” Y/N smiled up at him, completely oblivious to the diamond ring burning a hole in Jake’s pocket. 

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

You made your mark on me, golden tattoo

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

[luveline]

hi I am obsessed with your writing! can I request do you want to dance and candy apples with rockstar!eddie, maybe where reader is super quiet and doesn’t seem like the type to date a musician but he is super soft with her offstage even though he’s a total badass on stage?! okay bye love you

join luveline's halloween party ♡

tysm for ur request baby ily! rockstar!eddie x shy!fem!reader

The VIP section in most venues is the same. A balcony backfitted by a bigger room with a bar. Eddie has you sequestered on the balcony, the two of you looking down over crew both roadies and the venue's making preparations for tonight's show.

"Teddy," you begin quizzically, watching his eyes trace the shape of the stage. "Why'd you bring me up here?"

You'll have had to sit up here yourself in a few hours to watch the show.

You can tell he wants to be down there having a little bit of a say in things, though most of the time crew staff ignore him anyways. (Or rather, pretend to indulge his suggestions and do what it is they've been told to do by their boss, instead, as they should.)

He lifts his head from his observing and smiles at you. "Guy can't want some along time with his girl?"

"Up here?"

"Most private place I could think of." He grins, hair falling into his eyes as he straightens his back and extends a pale hand. "We never get any alone time anymore, sweetheart. Miss you."

You thread your fingers together and let him curl you into his chest, a smooth plane that you splay your fingers over lovingly. Before he can try anything you lean into his neck, and before he can complain you dot a little kiss against his throat. You really want a hug right now, and that's what you get.

He leans against the railing. You have no clue how he can do it without having a heart attack but you're too distracted by his nice touching to tell him otherwise, hands seeking the hem of his shirt to rub his back as he rubs yours.

You spend long, private minutes like that. His arms are a sanctuary, as dramatic as it sounds, where you can be as quiet as you want to be without feeling like you're doing something wrong. It's in stark contrast to your boyfriend's turbulent, brash personality. Yet somehow, you always fit. Maybe because he knows when to indulge your solitude, and you know when to cheer him on.

He kisses the top of your head.

"See? I missed this," he says.

You nod hurriedly in agreement. This is nice. This is bliss. His arms and his voice and nothing else, only the echoing hustle of the staff at the bottom of the atrium to reach you.

"It's been loud, these last few days. Are you okay?"

"You asked me that last night," you murmur, brows pinching together in confusion.

"I know, but it was busy last night. Thought maybe you wouldn't feel like you could tell me."

"I'm perfect," you say, startled by his question. "I promise." You lean back against his arms to look him in the face, his chin titling down to indulge you. "Are you okay, Teddy? How's your earache?"

"Fine, it's fine. Just gotta remember to wear the new earplugs tonight. The other ones seep too much." He smiles softly, brings a hand to your cheek. "I'm perfect, too."

You kiss him and hope that it says what you're trying to say. Yeah, you are.

His kiss quickly turns nipping and hard. You buckle underneath it, exhaling hard into his open mouth.

"Teddy," you say, though it's muffled into incomprehnsibility by his insistent kissing.

His thumb presses into the column of your throat as he leans down. You lean back with him, eyes closed and listless at the ardency in his touch.

"Teddy," you say again, giggling. "Stop."

He pulls away, frowning gently. "You okay?"

"Can't kiss me like that up here."

"Why? You don't like it?"

"You know I do..." You let your forehead rest against his chin, hiding from his bright eyes. "Too much."

"C'mon, sweet thing, nobody's up here."

You wrap one of your arms around the back of his neck to try and prevent him from convincing you. You both know how much you liked to be kissed by him, especially his rougher ones that make you dizzy, but you're not willing to be found up here. Not in the state he'll put you in.

"I'll make it worth your while," he tempts, a dulcet murmur.

You breath hard against his frame and grumble.

"What?" he asks.

"I hate you," you lie.

Eddie kisses all the way down your cheek. "I'll believe it when I see it," he says into the corner of your mouth. "Want me to do that thing you like?"

You sigh heavily. "Yeah, please."

[delqcate]

-–— BAKE MY DAY : FLUFFTOBER DAY 1

heyy i'm backk!! this is probably the first thing i've written in so long and first time i've used second person so excuse the writing for now, and this is my second time writing for anakin which i really am excited and nervous for so i hope i did him justice once again 🫶 | flufftober | navigation

summary: cold air is dawning on coruscant, as it is that time of the year again, and nothing sounds better than comfy sweaters and baking cookies.

warnings/cw: no use of y/n , 'cockblocker' , (lmk if there's more)

word count: 0.6k

paring: anakin skywalker x you

"Oh- don't forget the flour!" You yell out from the room. Anakin lets out a small chuckle and grabs the flour from the pantry. It was starting to become chilly in Coruscant and as much as they adored the sunsets your apartment had to offer, it was always like a freezer.

You walk out of the hall in one of his sweaters, a wide smile on your face as you see everything set up and ready to go. You grab your datapad, which already has a recipe for cookies set up on the screen. They started mixing everything up and it was going quite well, music was playing in the background, and the sun was already setting out to become a beautiful orange sky.

Anakin slips the tray of dough into the oven and shuts it, setting the timer up before looking at the counter. He heads over to you with a warm smile on his face and cups your cheek, kissing your forehead. "You're so...beautiful." He mumbles. You mirror his smile, a smile he could never get tired of seeing— until you notice a look in his eyes that feels too familiar.

"Why are you giggling so much?" You look at him with a questioning look as he bites down on his lip and looks down, shaking his head. "Oh, no reason. But you might wanna look in the mirror." He slips his hands away, trying to contain his laughter as he leans against the counter and crosses his arms.

You quickly head over to the closest mirror and gasp, half your face is covered with flour. "Oh- Anakin!" You grumble, trying to get it off of your face. Your eyes land on the counter, bits of flour still visible. You make your way over with fast steps and rub your hands on it before running them down his black shirt, laughing softly.

He let out a dramatic gasp and his eyes landed on yours. "How dare you!" He runs his hand down your shirt, making you gasp. "No- no, how dare you!"

And soon enough, they were running around the apartment with flour all over them. In their hair, on their clothes, and even on their face. After a while, Anakin had her pinned on the couch, their laughter dying down until only their heavy breathing could be heard.

The tension was thick, the same thing running through their heads. His eyes scanned her entire body, even covered in flour you were an angel in his eyes. Before they clashed with each other, the timer finally ended. You swore you heard him mumble 'cockblocker' and let out a small laugh.

The cookies were perfect, in all their heart-shaped glory, just the way they shaped it. He picked one up with his hand and immediately dropped it, hissing softly. "God, that's hot!" He shakes his hand around, a laugh coming from you. "They just came out of the oven, what did you expect?" She moves closer to him and takes his hand, kissing each of his fingers softly.

"Feel better?" She looked into his eyes, they were like a whole other galaxy. "Hm, not quite." He smirks before leaning in and kissing you, it was on the cusp of being rough and gentle. The way their lips fit together was like a perfect puzzle piece, truly made for one another.

You both slowly start to pull away, whispering on his lips. "How about we take a shower? I deserve it after you turned me into a wompa." He chuckles and shakes his head, their foreheads against eachother. "No, no. You're perfect, but we do definitely need that shower. Then we eat the cookies."

"So are you telling me you'd still love me if I was a wompa?" You smile, a soft laugh coming from you. "Wompa, Loth-cat, I don't care. I'll love you until every star in the galaxy dies."

[tteokdoroki]

best friend’s brother trope works for kageyama i think

i mean like, being best friends with his older sister…you’d watched him grow up, never thought much of him before. tobio used to be a little weird, seriously quiet and hyper fixated on volleyball, you’d sent your congratulations along with his sister, miwa, when he qualified for the Japan nationals team and went to Rio one summer of college. but to you he was still little tobio who stared you down whenever you entered a room and would avoid you like the plague.

so when yourself and miwa return in to your home town to celebrate your graduations you don’t expect kageyama to be so tall and broad and thick— the fabric of his shirt just barely covering the bulk of him, sweat dripping down his brow as if he’s just finished a work out. he is NOT the little brother you remember. this is a big…brother.

“what the fuck happened to tobio?” you’d laugh to miwa when you get home from clubbing as round one of your celebrations— going from talking about your shitty sex life to her younger brother as if it were normal.

neither of you know he’s listening when the elder kageyama teases you for being so flustered about his appearance. “volleyball made him big…i guess? his new team has tobio on some crazy fucking diet. he’s huge now.”

and huge, kageyama is.

you come to discover that when the volleyball player corners you in the kitchen in the middle of your late night conquest for milk. the curve of his cock slides against your ass through his sweats and your night shirt— he’s massive, and weighty and your cunt is already drooling from the thought of him. “how convenient is it that i’ve caught you ass up in the air when you’ve been talking about how dry your dick spell’s been, tonight?” kags’ words are so full of lust he almost cant catch them as they drip off his tongue. “i’ve always thought ‘bout this… yanno,”

your ass fits into tobio’s hands perfectly, slender and rough fingers spreading you so wide you’re forced to clench around nothing— and you thank the stars that you’ve ended up in this position while trying to grab a glass. you’re shaped to lay over the counter as the dark haired athlete grinds into you from behind, panting hotly into your ear about how you’ve been teasing him all these years, about how embarrassing it was to pop boners whenever his sister’s best friend came around, and about how long he spent with his dick in his fist ( even now ) jerking it off to the thought of your pretty little pussy— now just separated from his stiffy by thin layers of fabric.

“you want me? i’ve always fucking wanted you.” tobio tells you through a rasp, smirking when you nod so fast, slowly inching your night shirt up and groaning heartily when you’re not wearing anything underneath. had you always been like that? bare and ripe for the taking whenever you slept over for his sister in previous years. “god…fuck.” he has to remember to keep his cursing quiet but it’s hard when he can smell how wet you are, let alone see it in the way your folds glisten and stick together. “c’mon…need a verbal answer.” it stings when kageyama’s practiced hand slaps down on the meat of your ass, but you’re still so good in nodding and mumbling a small yes. “atta girl.”

sinking into you for the first time feels so much better than any serve or set kageyama could have ever given in his entire life. you’re so warm and syrupy, juices running down his shaft even though he’s only half the way inside you. it feels so good to let go of his controlled routines, finally being able to fuck the girl of his dreams in his childhood home. you’re like a forbidden fruit in tobio’s personal garden of eve and his stormy eyes only cloud over even more when he takes a bite.

you’re his sister’s best friend, practically off limits…but neither yourself or tobio can seem to care when he’s balls deep in your clenching cunt and those very same balls are battering your clit until she’s swollen and tingling with pleasure. kageyama’s in heaven— your ass bounces back on him like a ball across the court and leaves his pelvis and lower abdomen in ruins— shining from where your arousal smears across them with every thrust deeper into your heat, churning up your insides.

kageyama can’t help but become fixated, smacking down harder and harder onto the sweet peachy globes of your ass until your skin is raw and you have to shove your own fingers into your mouth to keep your whines and mewls down as you cry. and hard. hushing your own begs “oh please oh pleash…ohmplwase!” because god forbid your childhood best friend walking in on you getting raw dogged by her little brother, your pussy frothing thick cream at the base of tobio’s dick as he stretches you on it— a mix of your arousals wasted by slinging onto the floor.

neither of you know who miwa will kill first, but what you do know is that this won’t be the last time you’re fucked a drooling mess within an inch of your life against the kitchen counter by tobio kageyama. he makes a promise of that but breeding your up till your folds are seeping with white and he has to pull out of you to see his cum dribble down your thighs.

“keep this pussy empty till i’m back after this season. dreamed about her far too long for it to be used by someone else.” kageyama groans through kisses under the shell of your ear. “this pussy is miwa’s lil brother’s now.”

[espiepuffs]

Poképlushies:Pt.3!

You really enjoy creating pokemon plushies so you decide to surprise your partner with them!

Characters: Hop, Bede & Marnie!

Hop

For Hop, you decided to gift him a decently sized Wooloo plushie!

You made it using actual Wooloo fur and made it extra soft on the inside!

So when you give it to him, he looks at you in surprise.

He looks at you, the plushie, and then you again.

Physical embodiment of the :o emoji

He’s so happy when he realises it really is for him!

From then on he swears to take perfect care of the wooloo plushie. He treats it as if it’s his own living breathing Pokémon!

He tells Leon as soon as he can, and the moment he comes back home he shows it to him in person!

He might be busy quite a lot of the time, training up his pokemon, making sure they’re strong and in tip-top shape, or spending time at the Pokémon research lab, but he makes sure that plushie wooloo is still squeaky clean!

When you visit his house you’re surprised that it was as still as clean as when you first gave it to him

This was because in his free time, he’d made sure to wash it really nicely!

He doesn’t bring it with him though. It’s too big to fit with him, it takes up too much room in his bag :((

But whenever he’s at home in Wedgehurst, he does sleep with it! It’s the perfect size for cuddling, and he loves that Wooloo so much <33

Bede

For Bede, you wanted to get him something small.

Even though he specialised in fairy types, you wanted to get him something that was memorable and nostalgic!

So you made him a tiny Hatenna, big enough to cuddle with but small enough that it could fit in his bag!

He wouldn’t carry it everywhere with him, but if he was staying in a certain area for longer than 5 days, he’d bring it with him.

Bede really adores it. It reminds him of when he was a little boy, his Hatenna was the first Pokémon he’d ever received. It brought him a lot of happiness, and even now, he enjoys looking at the sweet little Poképlush.

He also loves the fact that it’s from you!

I think this ties in with the fact that one of Bede’s love languages is gift giving, from both ends!

He’s sometimes unable to show how he feels about you to the extent he wants to, so he thinks of gifts to be a surefire way to show his love for you.

I feel like a conversation held between the two of you several days later would play out like this:

“Bede, what did you think of the Hatenna I made for you?”

And he’d look at you and say “it’s nice, thank you for making it for me,” with his small signature smirk.

On the inside though???

This dude would have so much to say about it, but he just can’t find the words for it!

Marnie

You made Marnie a Morpeko, a similar size to the one she owns!

Initially, her Morpeko was confused. It didn’t register the fact that it was just a plushie, so it spent a few moments trying to talk it.

It was funny for a bit, however Morpeko realised what was up, and left it alone after.

Marnie takes it home with her later, simply sitting in silence, gazing at it in awe. She loves how detailed it was, and she loved how much effort you’d put into making it look like her own.

She’s also 100% the type of girl to have a room filled to the brim with stuffed animals and hug them at night.

Now she’s found a new cuddle buddy with her Morpeko plushie!

She sleeps with it every night now, it reminds her of you <3

Although Marnie is out a lot, she likes coming back home because she gets to hug the Morpeko plushie a lot!

That said, Marnie would never forgive herself it she accidentally got it torn or dirtied in any way, she’d be very upset about it

Even when you tell her you can just wash the stain out or sew it back up she’s still really mad at herself for letting it happen :((

But that’s just a hypothetical, it’s still squeaky clean and she intends to keep it that way!

Your plushie Morpeko has successfully made its way onto a permanent spot on Marnie’s bed, as well as her heart. Be proud!

[sqpphos]

🗒 ˖ ࣪⊹ —— sleepovers w/ pervy bsf! mike [16⁺]

mike was lying still next to you, gangly limbs all stiff as he tried his hardest to will away the aching boner he had. it was almost painful. he couldn’t shake off the picture of you half naked in his mind.

the guilt was eating him up because he knew he should’ve looked away the second he caught you. but in his defense, your bedroom door was cracked open. how the hell was he supposed to know that you were changing? and how could you ever blame him? he is a boy after all.

the erotic image was engraved in his mind and it would be forever. your baby pink panties (that he may have stolen once for his personal use) fit snugly against your hips, shaping and hugging your ass so well. and your dainty hand held up your chest, doing a terrible job as your tits were spilling over. mike remembers the way you let them drop before you pulled on a sleep shirt, getting a view he knows many guys in hawkins would kill to see.

it was almost you were doing it on purpose. maybe you had caught on that mike saw you as more than a friend and decided to torture him with it. it would be in your nature, you always had an inclination to tease him. whatever it was, he was tired of it. having to pretend it never bothered him and then jacking off to the thought of you every night was getting repetitive.

there was no way mike would be able to get through the night. not when you’re laying right next to him in your tiny shorts that hugged your thighs tightly and the small cami that your boobs were practically spilling out from. you were completely oblivious to the sexual frustration you were putting your best friend through.

it’s pathetic the way mike is rutting into his hand, making a mess of his slender fingers as he tugged fervently on his cock. it’s such a sight that he almost hopes you wake up and see the state you’ve put him in. it was bound to happen at some point. you are the one to blame for all of this, aren’t you?

mike’s trying his hardest to be quiet, he really is. he’s trying to hold back every whine and moan but it’s so difficult. his orgasm is plowing into him and he’s chanting your name over and over and over again. mike’s chest is heaving and he’s bringing himself back down to reality when he hears a little peep!

he whips his head over to you and you’re staring back at him like a deer stuck in headlights.

the silence is so loud you can almost hear it. nothing but both of your labored breaths can be heard around the room. mike almost feels embarrassed until he catches the way you’re staring down at his cock and your thighs rub together. your eyes flit up to his face again and he laughs.

“you gonna keep staring or are you gonna come help me with this?”

guys idk how to feel about this but i want to suck mike wheeler off 🧌

[jksprincess10]

With or without you 3 || Javier P. x reader x Frankie

Summary: Frankie asks you on a date. Javier gets jealous.(no threesome in this part) (around 3400 words)

Part 1

Part 2

CW: Fluff, angst, Frankie Morales being a fucking simp, MFM dynamics, petnames (hermosa, frankie baby, baby, etc.), no y/n, no descriptions of reader but she can take down a man twice her size, I know NOTHING about the military, talks about coke addiction, food play, reader being horny, Javier being an ASS, bad ways to do polyamory, miscommunication, somnophilia so SLIGHT DUBCON, oral sex (f), unprotected p in v.

“I wanna... take you on a date or something. Do this properly."

Frankie is standing in your office, hands laid on your desk covered in papers and classified files. You shamelessly admire the flex of his arms, the veins popping out, the bulletproof vest that’s too tiny for his wide shoulders.

"Are you hitting on me at work, Francisco?" You ask with a grin, your pen between your lips.

"Look. I don't want to be inappropriate. Just say the word and I'll leave."

He looks down at you with his sweet brown eyes and flushed cheeks and you simply lay back in your chair, waiting.

"Call me old fashioned or whatever. But... I appreciate you. I want to know more about you."

"Okay." You simply respond, ignoring the sudden jump of your heart. Frankie was too... likable for his own good.

"Will this be a problem with..."

"It's not like this, remember?" You cut him. "Now, let me work. I'll see you on... Friday night?"

"Yeah. My place. Sounds good?"

You nod with a smile and watch as he leaves.

Later that day, when Javier comes to drop some files, the lingering scent of smoke following him everywhere, you mention it casually.

"Frankie asked me on a date. I know this isn't... I just wanted to tell you."

You notice the way his fingers lightly tense around the file before he drops it on your desk.

"Whatever makes you happy, hermosa." Javier responds with a forced smile. 

Did he look happy about it? Maybe not. But you couldn't genuinely care when he never gave you his heart in the first place.

You liked Javi. You just knew better not to try anything than the shared nights of lust.

You look through the file and thank him as he leaves.

**

Why were you nervous? Because you probably knew more about his body than his personality. Or because that’s the closest thing to a date you had in years. 

You were scared it wouldn't work.

You try to conceal the doubt with cute makeup: a winged black liner following the shape of your eye, bright blush giving you a livelier look and highlighter shining under the light.You also put on a shiny gloss on your lips, keeping it simple.

Now the dress... it might have been a lot. It was a close fitting red dress with a cowl neckline that was held on your shoulders by thin straps. You wore black heels with it. You felt confident, pretty. 

When you entered Frankie's apartment, you were surprised by its cleanness. Everything had a spot. But it wasn't really... personalized. There were maybe one or two pictures of family around.

The man was wearing a somewhat formal outfit (for him), a light jean shirt with gray pants and he had given up his cap, his hair slicked back. You had both agreed not to have any sex tonight. But he looked so fucking good, you would totally fold.

"You're cute." You say as you press a kiss near his lips.

He takes your hands in his and backs up to admire all of you, letting out a low whistle.

"I feel underdressed. Baby you're... you're fucking gorgeous."

You bite your lip, hiding a stupid smile. "I might have gone overboard."

"No no... you're perfect. Come." He lays a hand on your lower back and guides you to his dining room, lit by a few candles.

You could distinguish a dark, round table with three matching chairs. There were flowers in the center of the table, red roses that matched your dress. No one had done anything like that for you... In years.

"I... Thank you, Frankie. "

He smiles sweetly and pushes a chair for you to sit on. He pours you a glass of wine.

"I made... pasta. Because it's the only recipe I can decently make."

You laugh. He scratches his neck awkwardly.

"As long as you're not giving us chef Boyardee..."

“Are you a chef Boyardee hater?” He asks, falsely shocked.

“Yes.”

You look at him as he pours his own glass of wine.

“No, it’s my mom’s recipe. You just wait here and enjoy, it’s almost ready.”

You nod and take a sip of the crimson liquid. You take in your surroundings while you wait for him. Once again, you notice how impersonal this place is. There isn’t much to see. But he probably just moved here recently for work and didn’t really have time to make it more… personal. Your fingers caress delicately the petals of the roses in front of you as you wait for him.

Minutes later, he’s bringing two plates and sets one in front of you. It’s a simple dish of noodles, with greenish sauce and some small pieces of tomatoes. Still, it looks better than anything you had time to cook in the last weeks.

Frankie sits in front of you, and you start eating in comfortable silence.

“So… what did you do for work before? Guessing still in the military, but in the US?”

“Hm, yeah. I was a pilot based in Florida.”

Why did you find it hot that he could fly engines?

“And now you’re more… in the action?”

“Yeah.”

“Why did you change?”

He seems uncomfortable, his hand crumpling a napkin.

“We all have our dark tragic pasts, Frankie.” You encourage him.

“No it’s just… you’re a fucking DEA agent and I used to be a drug addict. Well… addicted to coke.”

You put your hand on his and you feel his fingers relax slightly.

“You’re talking like I’ve never done drugs in my life.” You shrug.

“Thought you were a good girl.” Frankie teases. “Hmm… I lost my permit. So I had to sober up real fucking fast if I wanted another job. They didn’t want me as a pilot anymore, of course, but they told me I could help here… And well, here I am. Ironically.”

“I think it’s a good way to… heal.” You finally say with a soft smile.

And Frankie finally softens with your smile.

“Yeah… Have you always been with the DEA?”

“Hmhm. Was posted in a US office before.”

“With… Javier?”

“Yeah… we’ve been working together for a while. Went to the same school and all.”

You caress the top of his hand with your thumb. “But maybe… we should toss Javi to the side for a bit. And focus on our date.”  

You finish eating your main plate while you both engage in comfortable conversation. After you finish eating, you help him put the dishes in the sink, but he insists he’ll do them later.

“Didn’t know if you liked desserts… but… I got this.” He opens a small cardboard box, unveiling a row of cupcakes. “They’re from a local bakery.”

“Are you kidding me? I have a whole other stomach just for dessert.” You say enthusiastically.

“Hm… like… cows?”

“Are you comparing me to a cow, Francisco Morales?” You tease, slapping his shoulder playfully.

“N-No! That’s not what I meant!” And just like that, shy Frankie was back, red tinting his scruffy cheeks.

“I’m just fucking with you baby. Honestly, I find cows really cute. Always dreamed of petting one.”

You take one of the cupcakes, chocolate flavored - guessing by the color, and you take a bite, moaning at the taste.

“God, this is amazing.”

He takes a vanilla cupcake, sparkling eyes looking at you with amusement. This is oddly domestic, the two of you devouring cupcakes right in the middle of his kitchen. You swipe your index finger against the white frosting of his cupcake and bring it to your lips, sucking it into your mouth, bright, innocent eyes looking up at Frankie, who’s body is visibly tensing.

“Hey! My cupcake!” He shouts, like he was finally done glitching.

Then, this idiot shoves the rest of his cupcake in your face as some kind of revenge. You look at him, mouth agape.

“You have some fucking balls on you, Frankie. You know I can fight you?”

“You can try.” Frankie responds as he collects some of the frosting on your cheek, before licking it into his mouth.  His tall body towers over you, cornering you against the counter. He leans down and kisses your frosted cheek.

“You better clean me up.” You complain. “My pretty makeup…”

He laughs adorably, before kissing and licking away the frosting on your face. You close your eyes tightly, unable to retain the laugh escaping your lips. His thick fingers circle your wrists to keep you in place even after he’s done, his lips meeting yours in a delicate and slow kiss that makes your heart beat dangerously fast. Just to prove that you could, you undo your wrists from his grasp in a learned maneuver – since men tended to underestimate you, and you plunged your fingers in his curls, deepening the kiss. You both tasted like cheap wine and expensive frosting, your breaths becoming one.

You jump up on the counter and circle his waist with your bare legs, bringing him even closer. He lets go of your lips and you whine, your mouth chasing after his. His big hands lay on your naked shoulders.

“Remember what we said?”

“No.” You lie, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“No sex.” He says, cradling your face to look at you.

“Ugh you’re the worst.”

“I know. You should go home before we do something dumb.”

“You’re right.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the door. His free arm locks around your waist, holding you close.

“I had a good night. Thank you, Frankie baby.”

“Frankie baby? Hm? I like that.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips.  “Call me tomorrow, cariño?”

“Yes. I promise.”

He watches as you safely get to your car and waves at you with a dumb smile.

**

Maybe this was a bad idea, you tell yourself as you unlock Javier’s door with your spare key.

But there he was, sitting on his couch, a whiskey glass in hand, a cigarette between his lips.

Yeah. Maybe coming to your boyfriend-not-boyfriend after a date with your other boyfriend-not-boyfriend wasn’t a good idea.

You take off your heels and join him on the couch. He barely looks at you, like he wasn’t surprised by your presence.

“Did it go well?”

“Yes… Really well.”

“So… then why are you here?” He finally looks at you, admiring your beauty, even though your face makeup had been a little ruined by Frankie.

You shrug. “Missed you.” You were going to lay down on him, but he stopped you. You frown and look up at him.

“I don’t want you to see Frankie romantically.”

“Well, don’t you think it’s a bit late to tell me that, Javi?” You frown. 

He stays silent for a few seconds, alternating between whiskey and his cigarette.

“Well, I changed my mind.”

“Because I told you it went… well?” You couldn’t believe it. You get up, trying to control your anger, but your fists are tight against your hips. “Don’t you think it’s fucking selfish from someone who will never give me what I want?”

Silence.

“Do you know how many years I’ve been trying to get something else from you, Javier? Every time I get too close, you push me away. Keeping me close just… just as your fuck toy. Until I’m too much for you.” You were full on crying now, angry tears flooding the remaining of your makeup.

“My job… it’s too much for a relationship.”

“Well Javi, I’m also fucking DEA and I also need love. So, fix your issues and don’t make me stay away from Frankie just because… just because you’re jealous he’s providing what I need.”

“You barely know him… He’s a fucking drug addict, you know?” He asks, voice on the same level as you as he gets up too.

“Not anymore. Wait… did you… did you go through his file?” Incriminating silence.

“That’s fucked up, Javi.”

“I’m just trying to protect you…”

“You can’t protect me and then try to push me away. Also, I can fend for myself. Thank you.”

You head to the door, but he keeps you close, hands around your wrists.

“Let me go, Javi. I was dumb enough to come here to give you sex after this sweet man just… did everything for me. Let me leave. Please.” His grip tightens.  “You know I can fight a man twice my height. Let me go or you’ll regret it.”

You push him away and storm off, not even bothering to put your heels back on, just letting them dangle from your hands.

**

Vision blurred by your tears, you drive back to Frankie’s place. You felt pathetic, clingy, even. But you needed him. Pathetically, you go back to his door and knock. You probably looked rough, mascara and liner trailing down your cheeks, and still barefoot.

It takes Frankie a few seconds to get to his door. He has visibly showered; his hair wet and a dark towel tied around his waist. His face falls when he sees you crying and he drags you inside, closing and locking the door behind you.

“C-Can I stay?” You ask between a few sobs.

“Of course baby, you can stay.”

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You hide your face in his warm and damp chest, probably leaving some makeup behind.

“Here…” He looks down at you and cradles your face. “You can take a warm shower to calm down and then we can talk… You can breathe baby. You need to. I’m here.” He soothes. You breathe in. Breathe out. Then nod slowly.

And then you let him pull you in the bathroom. He runs the warm water and lets you get in the shower. When he comes back, it’s only to leave clean clothes on the counter: one of his old shirts and a pair of his boxers.

He waits for you in the living room, wearing a clean pair of dark boxers. Frankie looks up at you, not being able to hide the small smile that tugs at his lips when he sees you wearing his clothes.

You lay down on the couch, your head resting on his hairy thighs. He caresses your scalp softly, looking down at you.

“Do you wanna talk?”

“I don’t… I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you, Frankie.”

“You’re not using me.”

“Javi just… fucking decided on his own that he doesn’t want me to see you romantically. And that’s not… that’s not what I want. And I don’t want to involve you in our complicated shit, Frankie. I’m just… sad. I need you close. Badly.”

“I’m here, cariño.” The tip of his fingers go from caressing your scalp to caressing your arm, sending shivers through your body. “I can’t tell you what to do because I’m biased. But what… Do you want? ”

“I’m… selfish.” You straighten up to look properly at Frankie. “I want you both. Romantically and sexually and just… everything I can get.” It’s embarrassing, admitting it out loud.

“You have me, baby. All of me.” He kisses the top of your head. “As for Peña… If he suddenly can’t share even though he can’t give you what you want… I don’t think that’s… fair. But you’ll work things out, I’m sure. And I’ll be here. Waiting. As your anchor.”

The words are stuck in your throat, so all you can do is kiss him and whisper little “thank yous” against his lips.

“Good news is… there’s some leftover cupcakes in the kitchen.”

“That is really good news.” You manage to smile.

Frankie gets up to get the box and when he comes back to sit beside you, he leaves the cupcakes on the table in front of you. You take one of the small cakes in your hand and eat it in seconds, under Frankie’s amused gazed.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… I should’ve given you the rest.”

“Yes, cow stomach, remember?”

**

When it’s late and you’re both yawning, Frankie brings you to his bedroom. It’s tiny and has just enough space for a queen-sized bed and for one other piece of furniture. The duvet on his bed is checkered in tones of soft blues and the base of his bed is made of dark wood like his table.

You settle under the covers, your back against Frankie’s chest and his warm arms around you. In no time, you’re both falling asleep peacefully, despite the weight of your jobs and the weight of your complicated relationship.

In the morning, you wake up with a storm of pleasure twisting in your stomach, like you were already on the bridge of an orgasm. You open your eyes slowly. Frankie isn’t by your side anymore, but you find him between your thighs, a head of curls poking out of the blankets covering his back.

“Fuck… Frankie baby…”

He looks up at you with those pretty eyes, tongue still flat on your slit. You grab onto his curls, pushing him closer to your aching core. 

“Don’t stop… I’m so fucking close…”

He alternates between sucking and licking at the rhythm you loved, until you come undone in a silent cry.

“God. What a way to wake up…” You pull on him to bring him up, his chest laying on yours while you kiss him softly, not caring about your morning breaths. His hands sneak under the shirt – his shirt – that you’re wearing, caressing your soft breasts until they form two peaks. “Hmm. I could get used to waking up like this.” You whisper.

“Can I… make love to you, cariño?”

“Yes. Anything you want, Frankie.”

In a hurry, you peel off his t-shirt from your body and you let your back sink into the comfortable mattress. You watch as he takes off his boxer briefs, then you pull Frankie on top of you, legs parted to accommodate the size of his hips. He uses his hand to guide his tip to your entrance, and you breathe in slowly as he bottoms out. You were getting used to him, but you didn’t have him so intimately before – in close missionary, the two of you alone. You wrap your legs around his waist and start moving your hips, impatient to have all of him. Frankie understands the message, thrusting slowly. 

“God Frankie baby… Feels so good.” You moan.

He looks down at you, adoration filling his soft gaze. You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, one of your hands cupping his cheek.

You don’t think you could live without him now.

“I like you… a lot.” You whisper against his lips. He kisses you softly.

“Me too.”

Frankie is everywhere around you, filling all your senses. It’s addicting, the sweaty scent of the morning mixed with the subtle fragrance of sex. His thrusts pick up a faster pace, the man using his forearms as leverage as he goes deeper and deeper. Your back arches, your chests touching as you moan softly.

“D-Don’t stop baby…”

He keeps going, feeling your walls tighten around him, choking his dick. He comes not long after you, warm spend filling you up, marking you as his.

**

You part ways after breakfast, even though you could have stayed in bed with him all day. You had a few errands to run. In the afternoon, you were relaxing in front of the TV, when you heard a knock at your door.

You get up and open the door, sighing when you see Javier on your front porch, a bouquet of colorful flowers in hand. You close the door in his face, but he keeps it open with his feet.

“You have five seconds until I break your foot.”

“Please, hear me out.”

You slightly open the door. 

Javier never said “please” or “sorry”.

“Fine.” You sigh. “But you’re on thin fucking ice, Peña.”

“Thank you, hermosa…” He enters and closes the door behind himself.

“Why are you here?” You ask, arms folded on your chest.

“You were… right. I was fucking selfish. And I had no business going through Frankie’s file. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“And yet you hurt me again and again, Javi.”

“Look… I want… I want to do this. I want to be yours. I want to be yours with Morales.”

“I’ll have to think about it.” You take the bouquet of flowers from him. “You know you should say sorry. And you should kneel before me to show me how desperately you need me. Because I don’t believe you. You could have had me years ago, Javi.” Your voice was cold; he knew you were serious.

“I’m so fucking sorry, hermosa. I was a jealous prick. Frankie makes you happy.” You look at him as he kneels down, his hands holding on to your legs. “Please. Take me back. I want to make you happy too.”

You take in the sight of him, Javier fucking Peña on his knees, begging. You get down to his level and pet his hair, like you’re rewarding a puppy.

“You’re right, you were a jealous prick.  I’ll think about it. You can leave now. Thanks for the flowers.”

His mouth hangs open in silence, and you get up to open the door for him. He groans and gets out.

He didn’t think you would fold that fast, did he?

[johnwickb1tsch]

Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 5 by:

@treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @johnwickb1tsch and now featuring @tammykelly

Original Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: So many dead doves! Do not eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. You're in good company here. 😘 Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, dubcon, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

Lovely Readers! You can now follow the tag # Wicked Johnson Fic to follow along more easily! ❤❤❤

Johnwickb1tsch:

John lets you rest after wrecking you for the umpteenth time, disappearing off somewhere. You put off leaving the bedroom for as long as you can, but in the end you can't stand it anymore. You rummage in the closet for a new shirt. Your choices are black, black, and you'll never guess... black. 

This house must belong to John.

How many safe houses does that man have?

When you walk out of the bedroom in your new getup you find Tex in the living room watching TV. He raises an eyebrow at you. 

“We have got to get you some clothes, baby girl.”

You shrug. The boxer t-shirt combo is actually pretty comfy.

You think you might make your way to the kitchen, but Tex snaps his fingers at you as you try to walk past.

You turn to look at him with a raised brow. 

“Can I help you?”

That was the wrong thing to say, obviously. 

His grin is that of a hungry wolf. 

“I bet you can. C'mere, darlin'.”

You sigh, but after your little lesson with John, you're not quite so inclined to defy him. 

Yet.

You're going to have to get smarter about how you expend your energy. 

Easier said than done. 

You pad over next to him. He pats his thigh in invitation, but you opt to sit next to him instead. This lasts for about two seconds, before he hauls you into his lap with his big hands and his strong arms.

Goddammit.

“That's better,” he says with a sly grin, holding you close. 

You take a moment to look at him—really look at him, from up close. The sweep of his almond shaped eyes, his high cheek bones and the short scruff of his beard. He stares back at you, unabashedly. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He narrows his eyes at you, bumping his forehead with yours. You wish it wasn't adorable. Fucking man child, making you feel things.

“Wanna watch tv?”

It beat anything else he could dream up, so you agree. You hadn't forgot that he still owed you for your flipping of the bird earlier. You're sure he hasn't either. 

He turns on some stupid gratuitous action flick, and you kind of zone out. Your thoughts drift to John, and the things he told you in-between fucking you silly. 

He'd said that he and Tex would not take on the FBI just for a plaything, or a whore. Deep down, you knew what that meant. 

It meant, they had no real intention of letting you go. The thought filled you with equal parts dread—and wonder. 

Why the fuck would not one, but two fine ass men like this want you, for keeps? It's beyond your comprehension—and if you're honest, kind of flattering. Bat shit fucking crazy, but flattering.

Either that, or it's just...convenient. Your circumstances created a perfect storm from which to snatch you without a trace or a person to care about getting you back.

"Want to see somethin'?" asks Tex, interrupting your reverie.

"Okay?"

He clicks play on the remote once he has your attention. You watch as a 1970s muscle car jumps an impossible ramp, then lands roughly on the other side of a canal. "That was me."

You lift an eyebrow, looking back at him. "In the car?"

"Yeah."

He's grinning like a little kid, clearly proud. 

"You were a stunt man?"

"Uh huh."

You tilt your head, trying to put pieces together and failing. The square block is not fitting in the circle hole. 

"Then why...?"

"Killin' people pays better, believe me. Less dangerous, too."

A chill runs down your spine. 

"Oh."

Your gaze drifts away, but he turns it back to him with a hand on your chin. Those jet black eyes bore into yours, like he can see into your soul. His eyes flick down to your mouth, a moment before he leans in to kiss you. Your first instinct is to offer teeth, before you remember if you have to have sex one more time in the next twenty-four hours, you might literally die. You slip your tongue into the seam of his lips, and feel him smile against your mouth. 

"Mmm. A man could get used to this."

He slides his hand up your thigh, fingertips sneaking past the loose hem of your boxer shorts. 

You wrap your fingers around his, praying. "Tex, please."

"Like the sound of that," he says between kisses, outmuscling you to move his hand higher.

"I'm so sore."

"Sounds like an excuse to me. John gets you to himself but I don't?"

"It's not my fault you're both hung like horses."

This appeal to his ego makes him grin. "Ain't you a lucky girl?"

"Only if you don't hurt me."

He has the gall to give you a pouty face. Again, it should be fucking ridiculous, but somehow it's cute. He cups the side of your face, pushing his thumb between your lips. "How sore is your mouth?" he asks, eyes glittering.

It's not high on your list of things you want to do, but you're having to weigh your options these days. You suck his thumb, and you swear you watch a fire ignite in his eyes.

"Also sore," you say around his digit, sounding ridiculous as he presses down on your tongue. Your jaws hurt. Even your mouth is bruised from kissing. Jesus. You're not a goddamn python.

You try to retreat, but he forces his thumb deeper.

Absolutely out of instinct to defend yourself, you start to bite him.

Maybe you stop yourself before it can hurt or you break skin, but for the wicked gleam in his eyes you know it doesn’t matter. Suddenly you find yourself flipped on your stomach over his lap, as though you are nothing but a doll.

“You are a nippy little thing, you know that?” When he wrenches down your boxers, propping your ass in the air with his trunk of a thigh beneath you, you’re afraid you know exactly what he has in mind.

“No—”

His hand between your shoulder blades pins you down. “You’re just going to make it worse for yourself,” he says in a sing-song tone, almost as though he hopes you will fight him more. His fingers fanned out over your butt cheek rub lightly, soothing over your copious bruises. It feels so good that the first stinging smack makes you jump sky-high.

“Hey!”

“Hush and take your licks, little girl.”

“I hate you!”

“I was gonna say five, for flippin’ me off, but now it’s six. Comprende?”

You whimper, but for the first time since this whole fiasco started, you do the smart thing and shut your dumb fucking mouth, hanging your head in the pillows with resignation.

He’s just spanking you, you reason. How bad can it be?

He has a hand like a catcher’s mitt and arms corded with muscle.

Bad. The answer, is bad.

Yet he doesn’t lay into you immediately, soothing you with featherlight touches over your buttocks and the backs of your thighs. That part feels good, actually, and fuck you if you don’t start to feel the stirrings of desire between your legs.

What. The ever loving. FUCK. Is wrong with you?

“So pretty,” he says, toying with the bend of your knee. It makes your toes curl, and he offers up a deep chuckle that you almost feel more than hear. “You like that?”

“Yes,” you answer meekly, closing your eyes.

“See, I can be sweet, if you’re sweet to me.”

The next smack on the other cheek makes you jump again, but this time you do not protest.

“Ahh. She can be taught.”

You whimper, but keep your expletives to yourself. This is not exactly what you would call sweet…but the contrast of the stinging blows with his featherlight touch afterwards is doing things to you that you do not understand.

“Take this off,” he demands, lifting the hem of your shirt up your back.

For once, you obey him the first time, squirming in your awkward position on your belly and pulling it over your shoulders, leaving you bare and totally exposed upon his lap. He runs his fingers up the curve of your spine, making you shudder upon him. You can’t see his smug grin, but you know, you just fucking know it’s there.

Smack.

You can’t help but cry out, but the pleasure and the pain is strangely starting to meld together. Your treacherous, stupid little cunt has begun to throb, and as his fingers caress dangerously close to your crease you find that you wish he would touch you there.

By the time he’s finished with your licks you are a finely trembling, aching mess on his lap, your fingers like claws in the throw pillow, your ass in the air as though begging for it of its own volition.

Finally he does dip his thick fingers into your weeping slit, groaning to himself for the wetness he finds there. He circles your bud with the thick tip of his finger, making you moan and arch into him like the stupid little hypocrite you are.

“That’s a mighty nice little pussy you’ve got there,” he says, his voice turned pure gravel with desire. “Too bad you’re too sore.”

He withdraws and shoves you off his lap as he stands, leaving you in a heap of pliable naked limbs on the couch. The frustrated sound that escapes your throat is barely human, and the grin he pays you is the baring of teeth from a predator to a rabbit across the wood.

“Now don’t let me catch you touchin’ yourself,” he warns, looming over you. “You won’t like what happens next.”

 On that note he struts off, and you watch him go with a glare, unable to stop yourself from thinking he has the nicest, tightest little butt this side of the Mississippi river.

Bastard.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

You sit there for a good few minutes--- letting yourself just feel and realise what has happened.

No, because you realise it now-- so much has happened, you have sort of developed a temporary immunity to it all. A coping mechanism for your mind.

That is what it does when things go very wrong very quickly-- bolt out of the blue? Worry not, you won't even register it properly.

That is how your works, you realise as you slowly begin to dress yourself again. The slick between your thighs is hard to ignore but the ignited desire begins to subdue as you focus on making yourself aware-- really aware of what has happened.

John's words regarding Bradford felt like a promise and as you realise that he is gone, you fear he has gone after the agent.

You hope and pray that he is not as impulsive as you consider him to be because, with your time spent with Bradford, you have come to know of two things-- one, he is very resourceful, and second, he is no fool. He is an exceptionally intelligent, stubborn man-- whom you considered to be moral, almost idealistic. So, his betrayal has come as a shock to you.

You can't swallow it, somehow-- and his actions are not helping either. If John has bribed him and he accpeted-- why is he still messing with them, then?

What does he really want?

He has a family--

You blink.

Teenagers, he said. He isn't that old. Until...

Until he was a college dad or something. He never even mentioned a wife.

You lick your lips dress yourself as quickly as you can and rush out of the room. Finding Tex in the kitchen, you almost call for him.

Almost because you stop.

Baffled at your own instincts.

What are you doing? Don't you miss your previous life? Don't you want to be free again?

You realise you still do but you can't see them hurt. You don't want them hurt, in any way, under any circumstances.

They make you feel like a battlefield-- a battlefield for your mind, heart and body. You just stare on, lost in thoughts and questions. But Tex senses your presence.

"Sit down, accidentally added an extra egg to my omelette." He says while plating an omelette and bringing it to you-- it does not look like an accidental extra, but you chose not to comment. "Why aren't you sat?" He asks with a tilt of his head, but amusement is dancing in his orbs.

And he's back at his assholery again, just when you begin to think of him as 'not too bad'.

You sigh, too many thoughts running around to even try wiping off that annoying smirk out of his unfairly gorgeous face. You simply steel yourself and sit down-- refusing to give him the satisfaction of any reaction from you. You grind your teeth in silence, tensing up at the ache when you feel the cushioned surface against your clothed rear-- at least it isn't only wood-- that would have been way more painful. But it still hurts. Yet, you don't show it.

You've had enough of their games. Whatever they are doing, you realise that they are, perhaps winning at it. You were going to warn Tex about Bradford? You don't want John to go after Bradford-- and the first reason you think of is 'What if it's a trap'? And not 'What if Bradford dies?'

This change concerns you. You still haven't decided what you wish to do. Tell them that Bradford's actually too young to have teenagers? Are they foolish enough to not cross-check? You decide on a different approach.

"Where did John go?"

The question comes off in low, uncertain whisper, but Tex is already seated beside you with his own plate.

When did he even do that?

Tex raises an eyebrow and scoffs but holds your gaze for a moment.

"You're not worried about that agent, are ya?"

His ability to guess your thoughts (partially, to your fortune) catches you off guard and of course, it shows on your dumb face as he smirks. This time though, it does not seem as playful as before. This time, it puts you on edge as you let out a measured breath, feeling more alert than you have been in John's silent presence before.

"No--I...." You almost spill out the truth, before breaking the eye-contact and getting some hold on yourself "I was just...wondering."

"Don't worry, he went to get you somethin' to wear, so that you don't keep dirtying ours."

Your hold on the spoon tightens at that jab. It's lighter than most of his earlier ones but it somehow irks you to a certain point of burn.

You assume he is clever enough to not give you a fork because, at the moment, you want to poke him with one.

"I'm done."

You declare curtly before letting your spoon fall on the plate and pushing it away. You need some time away from their overpowering presence, you need your sanity, your rationality intact, after all.

Rising from your seat, you rush towards the bedroom with the hope of some solitude. You need that.

Tammykelly:

You barely get to the bedroom on the second floor, the forever lingering ache between your legs and anger in your heart not letting you think about anything else but a much needed distraction.

This bastard is fucking diabolical, you think to yourself, hoping the negative energy of your denial will give strength to your knees and outweigh how much your body is screaming at you to take care of the little, annoyingly loud problem created by Tex. God, they’ve trained you well.

After you’ve freshened up in the master bathroom, you sit down in a big armchair, next to the bed, still feeling frustrated, though mostly at yourself and the hopelessness of your situation.

You glance around the room once again, remembering where they’ve locked their tools, including knives that you’re pretty sure are sharp enough to cut through anything with ease. You lean back, lost in thoughts, letting your back rest against the soft cushion. You close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing pattern, after a while feeling like your body reflexes have started to calm down and the blood in your veins has acquired breath of its own, as you begin to watch yourself, as if from the third person pov.

The shrunken space of your focus seems to have been expanded, simultaneously, the room seems to have been sealed in a vacuum bubble, it’s just you and the memory of where the knives lay. You get up with determination, feeling confident enough to try anything within the boundaries of what’s allowed but timid enough to be mindful about possible consequences.

You can surely just look at them, they won’t punish you if you don’t use them.

You think about an array of ways how you’d break the lock before opening the cabinet, and run your fingers over the blades that you know could easily cut you in half through the application of force necessary to do so. You take one out, studying it, as if trying it on, wondering how much this razor-sharp knife has seen and will witness. You twirl it around, pondering whether you’d be brave enough to use it if the opportunity arises. You feel almost mesmerised by it, neither hearing anything, apart from the ringing in your ears, nor seeing anything, apart from your reflection on the blade.

“You’re sure you know how to handle it?” - a deep breathy voice comes from behind. You jump, almost dropping the knife, your eyes meet John’s obsidian ones, boring into you, making you feel like you’re being poked by the needles that lay in the cabinet next to the knives.

“Be careful not to cut yourself, rattlesnake”, - an amused voice adds and you watch Tex step into the room, as your cheeks flush red. “We were wondering how come it’s so quiet up here”, - he adds, not breaking the eye contact.

“I was napping” - you blurt out, quickly putting the knife down, nervously watching John walk closer in a lazy, almost calculating manner only a predator uses when the prey has been caught in a trap.

You catch his movements until he’s standing behind you, his chest touching your back, his arms on either side of you, capturing you in a cage that is his strong body against your frozen one. You look over to Tex and notice him leaned against the wall, watching you two with curiosity.

Fuck

John picks up the knife you’ve previously chosen and holds it in front of you, his lips close to your ear, his voice so dangerously low, you swear he sounds like he’s about to devour you in one bite.

“Want me to show you how to use it?” he nonchalantly whispers, sending cold shivers down your spine, his lips inch closer, “since you’re so curious about it”. You pray he doesn’t feel the deafening thumping of your heart.

“I was…just…uh…”, - words barely escape your dry throat. You hear Tex walk over and it makes you feel even more on the razor edge that is a mouse trap of your relationship with these men. You feel Tex’s fingers under your chin, when he pulls your face to look up at him.

“Isn’t it what you wanted?” - he clicks his tongue. His glimmering eyes shine with built-up darkness lay beneath, a hint of disappointment flashes through it when you don’t reply, “all talk, no action?”

Tex is akin to a fiery pit, predictably unpredictable in the sense that you have an idea of what to expect of him - stand too close and you get burned, bite too hard and you get splashed back with fire. But when you watch the flames, especially when he doesn’t notice you studying him or pretends not to, there’s a strangely comforting warmth to him, flickering through the coal cracks of his man-child nature. John, on the other hand, is akin to an abyss, swallowing you whole with his presence. He’s dangerous in a way that a calm untamed tiger is, for even domesticated, it still remains a threat at all times. You don’t see what’s beneath all the layers of what he masterfully conceals and you’re not sure you should want to find out how much of a predator he actually is.

“Make your choice” - you hear John’s raspy voice bring your attention back to him.

“What?” - you blink, your mind going over multitude of possibilities this could play out. Tex takes the knife out of the other man’s hands.

“Who do you prefer show you how to use it?” - he explains, but his expression says anything but teaching you about self-defence. You feel John protectively wrap around you and you don’t need him to say it. If Tex does anything out of line, this playground will become everything a human would fear to step into. You can see that the feeling’s mutual, in the way Tex glares at John.

Maybe this is the code to freedom, let them prey on each other.

Tex’s eyes move to yours, seeing the way you lean into the man behind you.

“Oh, you think Johnny boy will save you?”- he chuckles darkly, “dream on”, he tells you before motioning for John to bring you over to the bed. Your heart drops.

They sit you down on the bed, both of them circling you, akin to eager hawks, ready to rip apart and devour anything in their sight. Suddenly, you feel John’s hands lock yours in a tight grip behind your back, which makes panic arise in your chest.

“The fuck you’re doing?” - you want to sound mad but the voice that comes out of your mouth sounds like it belongs to someone else caught in a web of pretence and lies. Tex waves his hand for you to keep your mouth shut.

“You forget your place, rattlesnake”, - he laughs, though not an ounce of warmth strikes you, just sharp fire burns.

“You’re a fucking asshole”, - you growl lowly, looking him right in the crazed eyes, while John shifts to a more comfortable position to hold you still.

Bastard

“Touché”, - Tex brings his face close to yours, his hot breath on your skin making you flinch, “Biting won’t help, darlin’, you’re forgetting who you’re up against”, he finishes, placing the cold blade on your cheek before you start protesting, and moving it down your jawline, throat, collarbones and stopping at the hem of your shirt, tantalised, watching the way your chest rapidly rises and falls. He’s so gentle with it, though, but his eyes tell you he could switch up in a heartbeat.

“Sorry, John”, - Tex breaths out and doesn’t wait for either of you to reply, grabbing the fabric and making the blade slide through it with lightning speed like butter. Your wide open eyes look at him with shock, only now noticing John pressed up against your back, like an unmoving statue. You lean back, wiggling your body, seeing how hard it is for Tex to resist touching you with his hands. He extends his arm to place the knife onto your skin.

“Don’t fucking touch me”, - you glare up at him, which makes a loud bark of a chuckle escape his lips, though he doesn’t stop. You begin to shake your head and move your body, knowing he won’t do anything in this case, as not to hurt a single strand of hair on you, for John might kill him right then and there with that said knife, otherwise. Abruptly, your body freezes when Tex’s calloused hand find its place around your neck, urging you to hold your anger in and to look up at him.

“You don’t want me to hurt you, do you?” - he growls, his fingers tight around your throat, “you can’t keep playing the game you can’t win”, he smiles, placing the blade in the centre of your breastbone, the coldness of steel arising goosebumps throughout your body. Your eyes lock on his, studying the way he’s holding back the desires that will leave him hanging onto the thread of life had he acted upon them. You want to believe he’d never hurt you but you never know how far his self control and possible feelings for you can contain the boundaries of his flames.

Is it your or John’s power over him?

Tex’s knee moves in between your legs, inching closer to where you needed him when he bent you over downstairs what feels like an eternity ago. But your body responds in raging flames, lit up by the myriad of matches that are the manifestation of his power over you.

His fingers inch the razor-sharp steel closer to the centre of your neck, so infinitely slow you think you might die just from waiting for what comes next.

And what comes next is John’s lips on your skin, your temple, behind your ear, on your shoulder, his tongue tasting the heat, engulfing your body, the effect of which comes off in a form of a shuddered breath that doesn’t go unnoticed. Tex moves the blade up until it reaches your mouth, keeping it there, until you get the hint. You stare at his darkened, ravenously glowing eyes. You feel one of John’s hands come up gliding over your body up to your neck, tilting your head up, as he’s shifting his weight so you can look up into his eyes. The look you’re met with is not the one you were hoping to see, for instead of a soft and gentle one, your gaze gets sucked in by a black hole that is a pair of nearly jet-black, hungry, unmoving and barely patient eyes.

“Sorry, baby”, - John rasps.

You open your mouth, falling deeper into his void, before closing your eyes.

Your eyelids flutter open, as your breath and racy heartbeat warn you to steady yourself before gradually coming back to a stable pace, as you lay in bed.

You listen in to the sounds of an awfully quiet house, making you wonder whether you’ve been left alone after all. The clock arms ticking rhythmically, blending in with the soft, almost faint whirring of the bedroom mini fridge where the boys keep cooled bottled water for you. The sound of electricity inside the walls and static in your ears suddenly becoming louder once you focus on it instead of the faint noise of the outside world. You look around, chasing the frisky sunset light, playing on the space around you through the cracks between the slightly moving curtains. You glance at expensive looking boutique shop bags standing near the wall. For the first time you pay attention to the way the colour palette of the place is almost seamlessly blended by the dreamy fog, though you’re not sure if it’s the floating in sunlight specks of dust or your own blurry vision, for you’d just woken up from your nap. You raise your hand to cover your eyes when the sunlight makes its way onto your face, then close your eyelids, folding your hands on your lap, letting yourself bask in the vague warmth. You take a deep breath in, your senses catching a very indistinct smell of the fresh evening air, when the wind outside blows through the trees, the rustling of which you can catch a sonic glimpse of, fresh laundry and the scent of your shampoo.

But the smell of two men pervades you the most, you can practically taste the last night with John and today’s morning with Tex on your tongue and skin. You’re sure you smell like them by now, akin to a cat acquiring the smell of its owners over time, becoming one with the small nuclear tribe. It’s shamefully intoxicating how well they’ve imbedded themselves onto your body and into your mind, molding a new, unrecognizable version of you, so perfectly suited for their needs.

And you’re sure they like everything about it, especially the way they can smell themselves off you, like you belong to them, cooped up in this place away from prying eyes, their $5 million secret, just for them to play with and ravish. You can feel it sometimes through the way they touch you when passionate waves are mercifully on hold, replaced by the monumental promise of another outburst. You remember the way their fingers linger on your skin a bit too long, the way they hug you close to their bodies late at night when they think you’re too fucked out to notice - John - in a protective embrace, Tex - more on the possessive side.

The way John gently brushes your hair after blow drying it and resists leaning in to smell your freshly showered self, for every time you can feel the heat of his body getting close to you and, regrettably to your disappointment, pulling away at the last moment. The way Tex traces his own bites and hickeys on your skin when you’re in the bathtub with him or glides his fingertips over them under the covers, thinking your blissfully unaware self doesn’t feel his surprisingly delicate leisure wandering. The way neither of them want to leave the bed in the early hours of the morning, too entranced by your warmth and the feel of your body against theirs. The way one day you made each of them sigh in surprise when you’d pulled them closer, praying they explain it as your sleepy subconscious making the decisions for you, when, in reality, it was you pulling the strings of blurry lines in between sanity and conscience mistake of trying to savour their comfortingly strong bodies. You couldn’t decide which one of the duo was worse. John, who treats you like a gentleman but often fucks you disrespectfully, or Tex, who annoyingly makes every particle of your body and soul boil in every sense possible.

You tip your head back, eyelids closed, taking deep breaths in to calm your heart and mind. You have no idea how long it’ll take for the masks of sanity to slip, revealing the true nature of those men. Whatever sanity means anymore in this situation. You start feeling like their influence on you begins to seep beyond physical form.

Suddenly, you hear John quietly calling out to you: “Y/n. You here?”

Your eyebrows slightly twitch, as your eyes open to the starry sky above the balcony where you and John are standing next to one another.

“It’s like you were just here and then you were gone”, - he chuckles, his voice soft and comfortingly deep.

Fuck, the mask’s slipping.

You take a long look at him before smiling, his eyes so gentle, you almost [want to] believe he’s not faking it for you.

It’s time for a cat to come out and play with fire.

“Hi”, - you tell him, reaching your fingers out to him, finding it so irresistibly hard not to put a loose strand of hair behind his ear when you see him admiring the perfect way the clothes he’d bought hug your body, as if tailored to your exact measurements but you don’t delve into it deeply for the sake of your sanity. “Hey”, - John replies, letting your hand slip back, not showing you how much he wants to catch it and kiss it.

The serenity of the passing intimate lace comes crumbling down when Tex cheerfully comes up from the back and hugs you from behind, loudly leaving a wet trail of kisses from your ear down to your shoulder, so casually mundane, as if he’s been doing this for years.

“What are you two whispering about?” - he inquires, not removing his lips off you. “Certainly not you”, - you tease. “You don’t like me?” - he mumbles back. Now it’s your turn to laugh: “Why should I? This is just a transaction, no?”

Instead of pulling away, Tex grips you harder: “Aw, my rattlesnake, I was about to say how sweet you are when you don’t bite”.

“Thought you liked it?” - you let him feel you lean into him, which he eagerly reciprocates. “Oh, is that why you do it? You do it for me?” - he asks, as you turn around in his arms, tilting your face up, batting your eyelashes. “Dream on”, - you reply before breaking away from his embrace.

You walk over to the balcony sofa, sinking into the big pillows in a relaxed way that exudes you’re not afraid of either of the two. You let yourself be watched by their intense gazes, shamelessly scanning you up and down, as you throw one leg over the other. Moments pass before you speak again.

“I can’t quite crack the code”, - you tell them in the most couldn’t-care-less tone, “what is it that you get out of this? Apart from the obvious”. You trace your body with your fingers, John’s eyes on yours and Tex’s following your silhouette.

Tex is the first to reply: “You said it yourself, this is just a transaction”.

“Is it really?” - you inquire in a way that it sounds more like a statement.

“Why do you wanna know?” - Tex responds, keeping his eyes trailed on you.

You lean further into the cushions, trying to sound as innocuously as possible. “To manipulate you, of course”.

Silence hangs in the air, making your cheeks grow redder, though you hope they can’t tell under the starlight. Tex walks closer to you, saying: “Don’t get ideas into that pretty head of yours”, he grabs your face with one hand, “wouldn’t want you to get burned, mhhmm?”

You swallow. “Wouldn’t even dream of it”, - you tell him, holding the eye contact. Unexpectedly, Tex does nothing but lets you go and walks to the chair, near John. It makes you uncomfortable, their watchful eyes not leaving an ounce of your conscience not feeling exposed.

“What game are you playing at?” - John finally speaks up, his voice so quiet you know he’s not playing games with you anymore.

“Nothing”, - you simply say, your gaze locked on his. Hiding in plane sight, you think. Instead, you continue: “I can’t outplay the player when I got no game, yeah?”

Tex snorts: “Oh, you definitely do have game”, eyeing you. You turn your attention to him, scoffing just like he did: “Clearly, if that’s what you wanna call it”.

“I just want a lock in my room”, you add.

“My, my, Johnny boy, she not only bites but wants to have leverage over us”, - Tex chuckles.

“How’s having a lock mean leverage?” you bat your lashes.

Okay, playing dumb it is.

Tex doesn’t make you wait for his reply: “It’s not about the lock. It’s about access”.

Got you, you say to yourself.

“I’m sure other hunters, like you two, would just love that, access at all times”, - you muse, looking from one man to the other.

“We won’t let that happen”, - John’s stern whisper comes.

“Mhmhm, sure, with $5 million on the line”, - you shrug. You catch Tex’s eyes.

“Dream on, babygirl”, - he muses back.

You sigh, getting up, making your hips sway just a tiny bit more than usual. Your arm gets caught in Tex’s strong grip. “What are you doing?” - he growls, as you turn to look up at him. You look behind him at John, then back at the man in front of you. “Take a wild fucking guess”, - you retort. Tex steps closer, cornering you further to the glass door, leading into the house. “Use your pretty mouth like that, I won’t care if you’re sore or not anymore”, - he smiles sickly sweet, making your stomach turn. You ignore him and connect your eyes with John’s, who holds the same expression, not much different from Tex’s, letting you see in that moment, how titillated he is by you.

You’re fucked and you’ve walked right into it.

“Let me guess, “dream on”?” Tex mocks you, placing a hand on the glass, near your face.

You work up a smile, though you hope they can’t see it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m going to sleep. Aren’t you boys coming?” you purr, before wiggling your way out of Tex’s arms. The men look at each other before following suit, exchanging malevolent glances.

The code is crackable. For it’s not the “how” but the question of who’ll be the first to crack.

Tex. John. Or you.

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

Goddamnit. Where is the motherfucking pancake batter? Does John not have PANCAKE BATTER in his goddamn house? What are you supposed to do? Make pancakes from scratch? Fuck.

Your internal thoughts are being monologued by a sailor, apparently - and he’s in a shit mood. You woke up lying in vacant sheets, minus either of your human heaters, shivering in the conditioned air.

Your bargain was simple, or at least you thought so - they could keep the temp at 62 degrees in this room (psychos) if they both slept beside you and warmed you cozy. So, when you found out they were gone and didn’t even bother to pull a blanket over your naked body in their haste to leave - okay, maybe it was actually you that kicked the comforter off, but you’re still gonna blame them - you got heated, and not in a good way.

Pretty soon, and far too late, you realized that you felt abandoned without them snuggling you like two big, bed hogging dogs, and that made you much more angry because… Well. If you’re being honest with yourself, you are far too attached to these men. In too deep. “Dug up more snakes than you can kill,” as Tex would say. You can barely function when they’re not around. So much for strong, independent woman. You’re a whitehead on the face of feminism.

And now you can’t even make pancakes. Out of frustration, you slam a cupboard shut and bustle a carton of eggs off the counter. And, of course, they land face down with the top open wide. “Fuck. Me.”

“Bad day?”

You spin on your heel, hip catching the counter painfully, although you barely register the sting, too busy clenching fists at your sides from the immediate recognition of that voice. You glare at Bradford, lip curling into a little snarl, the rattlesnake in you coming to bat. “It is now,” you snap.

Bradford sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Hey, don’t be like that. I told you I’d protect you, y/n, and that’s what I’m here to do.”

You burst into a crazed giggle fit, fists clutching at the sundress fabric over your belly, eyes watering from the sheer audacity of fucking men. It takes you a minute to collect yourself.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, you pompous asshole.” You’re still smiling at him, that little leftover sanity and hope slipping right through your fingers and landing in a sticky puddle with the smashed eggs.

He frowns, hands jammed into his pockets, this stupid look of concern coming over his face that makes you want to choke it right off. “Listen, y/n, whatever they did to you - however they hurt you - it’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here to take you away and undo all this shit they’ve put in your head.”

“You think that’s going to work on me after what you did?!” You hardly recognize your own shrill screech, don’t realize you’re jamming a finger into his chest until your toe to toe with him. “They might be assholes and manipulators, sure, Bradford, but you-“ You poke his sternum hard, make him wince and love that pained look on his face more than you should - “you’re much fucking worse. Because at least they care about something other than themselves.”

His expression is one of pity, like he’s looking at an abused, bite happy dog about to be put down. “You think they care about you?” His voice is quiet, sympathetic, overly kind, it makes your stomach turn. “Oh, sweetheart-“

“Oh, sweetheart,” you mock, the acid in your body leaking and bubbling from your throat. “Do me a favor and get out. I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody.”

He seems entirely unaffected by you. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

You feel a tiny sting in your shoulder, look down to see a needled splinter sticking out, reach to pull it free, but it’s far too late, because your hand doesn’t work. And neither do your legs. You black out before landing face first into the eggs.

They’ve got you trussed up again. Pretty silk ropes dimple your skin. John finishes the knots on your thighs, fingers tickling lazily over the fabric and making you squirm and whine. “Comfy?” He asks, kissing your cheekbone and smiling at you.

You nod, pull at your bonds, become thrilled when you realize you’re not going anywhere. You wiggle your toes, testing circulation by gauging feeling to your digits. Perfect, as always. John’s handiwork is unmatched. And you are absolutely drenched and throbbing by the time he gets done tightening his last little tie.

“Oh, you’re so pretty,” he tells you, nuzzling his nose into your hairline. You shudder and giggle, melting under that praise he has grown fond of giving. His balmy voice gets your toes curling instead of flexing.

Tex comes back into the room with the bottle of sandalwood and vanilla oils. It smells heavenly and makes you clench hellishly as he works it into his bulky palms and grins at his favorite girl. “You ready for that massage, pumpkin?”

Something slams violently close to your ear, startling you out of the dreaming memory, making you gasp and flinch. You can’t go far, because you’re handcuffed to a metal chair. Hands and feet. Too tight. Fingers and toes already numb and cold. Your face feels sticky and itchy. Metal scrapes metal in a terrible symphony that jabs behind your eyes and gets them open.

You’re in a white, windowless room, far from John and Tex, but close to agent Bradford. He’s smiling now, pleased about something, leaning over the silver table to examine your face. “That’s a nasty bruise, kid,” he says, pointing to his own forehead. “Sorry I couldn’t catch you.”

You scowl at him. “Yeah, whatever.” Your head does hurt, though, and you feel like you’ve been run over by a monster truck again. Still, that fire in you doesn’t seem to want to die, and you’re incredibly grateful for whatever miracle furnace is fueling it. “Are you gonna tell me why I’m here? Or just stare at me like a fucking creep?”

He chuckles. “Do you know where you are?”

“Oh yeah,” you spit, “I definitely remember this windowless white fucking room from good times growing up.” Rolling your eyes hurts more than you think it will.

“You’re under possession of the FBI, y/n, and if I were you, I’d be grateful we didn’t just hand you over to the Bratva ourselves. Because they would have done much worse to you than we’re about to do.”

Johnwickb1tsch:

As your mind clears from the drugs Bradford gave you, you start to think a bit more critically about your situation. The fact that he has taken you hostage without the fanfare of an official FBI raid suggests he's still working under the radar. He must have baited your boys with some convincing ruse to make them both leave the house.

"You should really do yourself a favor, and return me to them," you advise. You flex against the cuffs, trying to get circulation. They really are too tight, and you can't help but compare it to the careful way John always bound you. Who is the bad guy here? All the lines have blurred.

"I can't help but notice you're not asking to just be let go."

It's a development that surprises you too, but you don't feel like analyzing it right now. All you know is that you miss them, like a crucial piece of your heart has been plucked from you. And maybe it's fucked up, but you want the man responsible to pay.

"I'm not as stupid as you are, apparently. Don't you understand who you're dealing with?"

"Tex Johnson, former Marine, dishonorable discharge in his first tour of Iraq, turned Hollywood stunt man and mafia hitman. John Wick is harder to put a thumb down on. Bogus birth certificate, it's doubtful it's his real name. He was probably trafficked into the country as a child from the Soviet Union by one of the syndicates. He's been associated with various underworld groups since he was a teen."

This was, in fact, way more than you knew about your boys, but you were loathe to admit it.

"What I mean, is if you keep this up you're a dead man walking. They'll do anything to get me back."

"It sounds like you want them to get you back."

"At this point? I like them a lot better than you."

"Yeah, you seemed pretty cozy there. I think you have a touch of Stockholm Syndrome."

The thought of this man, of all people, moralizing at you and basically calling you mentally ill, pisses you off even more.

"Did you know Stockholm Syndrome is a bullshit diagnosis favored by law enforcement, invented by two male psychologists to describe a woman who had been in a hostage situation, who they had never even met? She was held hostage by a bank robber in Sweden, and as she watched the police completely bungle the situation she was afraid they would come charging in and kill everyone in a hail of bullets. She advocated for a more peaceful solution that didn't involve her getting shot, and was branded as neurotically sympathetic to her captor for it. But you've been through Quantico. You should already know this."

Bradford frowns down at you, and your inconvenient penchant for facts.

"Alright, smarty pants, be that way. But when the media gets a hold of you after this, you're going to want something to blame, believe me."

"How about you, you crooked son of a bitch?"

"Me? I'm going to be the agent who single handedly brought down the Nobokov Bratva, two wanted contract killers, and saved their hostage. I'll be a hero."

"What about the money you took?"

"Playing a role, all part of my master plan."

He smirks at you, letting you know that at least some of that money is not going to make it into evidence.

"Wait...isn't Dmitri Nobokov dead?"

"As a doornail. But his son is still around, and he wants blood."

You think about this a moment.

"And you're using me as bait?"

"Now you're catching on. You've got a date with Igor Nobokov tonight."

"And you're counting on...them all killing each other?"

"Something like that."

You just laugh.

"Right? I think it's funny too."

"I'm not laughing at that."

"No?"

"No. I'm laughing because my boys are going to fucking kill you all."

You find that you truly believe it, to the marrow of your bones.

Bradford just smirks. "We'll see."

You certainly would.

His phone starts ringing, and he reaches into his pocket for it. "Bradford."

"Well hello, Agent Dipshit."

"Tex. Thought you'd never call."

gif by johnswick

Just hearing his ridiculous, stupid, wonderful voice, even tinny through the phone, sends a wave of relief through you.

"Gotta say, I took you for smarter than this."

"How you figure?"

"You're an FBI hotshot with a fancy degree. I'm sure you've got a profile on me. Narcissistic psychopath, is what Uncle Sam told me. That means there aren't many things in this world I care about outside of yours truly, but you've managed to take one of 'em from me. Can't say that bodes well for you."

"I guess that's a matter of perspective, Mr. Johnson."

"Proof of life?"

"She's right here. Say hello, y/n."

Glaring at Bradford, you speak into his outstretched phone. "Tex, it's a trap!"

Bradford reaches out to smack you in the mouth, staring you down.

"Ow! Motherfucker!"

For a moment there is a deadly silence on the other end of the line.

"My turn. Say hello, Mrs. Bradford."

Bradford's face goes white as a sheet. "Anthony? I'm scared. Please, just do whatever they say."

"Veronica? It's going to be ok, honey, just stay calm. If you fuckers hurt her so help me God--"

"Maybe we will, maybe we won't. All depends on you, son. So listen close."

-----------------

"Who knew this AI shit could be so handy?"

John just nods, utterly stoic, closing the laptop. After feeding multiple insufferable Facebook videos about cooking and keeping house by the lovely Mrs. Bradford through a program, they were able to create a perfect facsimile of her voice, good enough to fool her husband over the phone.

Now Bradford would meet them in a location of their choosing. The advantage was theirs.

Or so they hoped.

Either way, Bradford was dead meat.

[harrywavycurly]

I like how Wayne handled asking about Eddie’s relationship could we get more of that? Maybe Wayne helping Eddie spoil the reader?👀☺️

Hiiii babes!! Of course you can get more Wayne!! I hope you enjoy 💖

- Look here for everything related to Eddie and his Princess✨

*Wayne may not understand why Eddie does what he does but that doesn’t mean he won’t help him when he asks*

“You need what?” “One of those things that when you cut up watermelon or that green melon what’s that called?” “Son you’re asking the wrong person about fruits…” “right..doesn’t matter what it’s called but I know you have one of those things that makes it into like little balls and shit I need to borrow it.” “Ohh you’re talking about a melon baller?” “Is…that really what it’s called?” “Don’t look at me I didn’t name the damn thing…but yeah it’s in the junk drawer I’ve never used it…you can keep it.” “Thanks Wayne…this is perfect.” “What do you need it for?” “She doesn’t eat enough fruit so I figured if it’s in cute little shapes and shit she’ll eat more of it.” “Cute little shapes huh?” “Don’t start…” “here maybe take those old cookie cutters too? If the balls don’t work maybe the heart and star will?” “Oh that’s a great idea. Thanks Wayne I appreciate it.” “Anytime…let me know how it goes.”

“She won’t like that one.” “What? Why not?” “It’s…scratchy.” “It may be god awful ugly with these green dots all over…but it sure as shit ain’t scratchy…” “to us yeah it’s soft but I know her…she won’t like how it feels and she needs a new blanket for the living room the one she uses now is falling apart.” “Okay what about that pink one with the white hearts? It doesn’t look scratchy?” “Let’s see…this could work…yeah she’ll like this one it’s similar to the one she already has and she typically likes to get the exact same things over and over.” “So this will work?…damn that’s soft…might have to get me one of these.” “Yeah it’ll work the only difference is the one she has now has white and purple hearts.” “And you don’t think she’ll notice?” “Oh she’ll notice but she won’t care…are you really getting one?” “Yeah this is the softest thing I’ve ever felt…she has good taste.” “She’ll love that you two have the same blanket.”

“Now just relax for a moment and tell me what happened.” “Some fucking dude at work asked for her number…even called her sweetheart.” “Okay and I can tell that’s made you upset.” “Well yeah she’s mine why do people think they can talk to her like that?” “Listen..I know you like to keep her wrapped up in this bubble of…safety but you’re not always gonna be around and…well she’s a cute girl so you’ve gotta just learn to deal with people making passes at her.” “I just know people will try to take advantage of her…I can’t fucking stand the thought of something happening to her because I wasn’t there and she doesn’t know how to defend herself.” “Then teach her.” “Teach her? Teach her what?” “How to tell someone to fuck off and defend herself…teach her how to feel confident enough to be able to stand her ground when you’re not there to do it for her.” “I don’t want to freak her out and teaching her how to hit someone will for sure…freak her out…” “don’t teach her to fight Eddie teach her how to say things with enough confidence that creeps and weirdos get the hint and leave her alone.” “I..how do I do that?” “I’ll help you okay? Just maybe bring her over sometime this week.” “She’s…just too nice sometimes…” “and that’s okay we just gotta teach her when to not be nice.” “Okay Roadhouse…”

“I got these for her.” “Oh tye dye socks…she’ll love these.” “Yeah? I wasn’t sure but I figured they were colorful and fuzzy for when she’s in the house and on sale so…I hope they fit.” “It’s socks Wayne they typically always fit but yeah…she needed new fuzzy ones she doesn’t like the flowered ones anymore they’ve gotten all dingy.” “I saw her in slippers the other day…I thought you had gotten rid of them because she kept trying to wear them outside the house?” “I tried…” “you tried?” “She looked like I just told her the tooth fairy wasn’t real when I tried to take them out of her closet…so yeah…she still has them.” “You’re such a softy…” “says the man worried about if she’s gonna like these fuzzy socks…” “i just want her to be comfortable while at home that’s all.” “Mhmm…right…” “listen you spoil her so damn much the least I can do is get her some damn socks okay?” “Okay…don’t worry she’ll love them.”

[pianocat939]

here me out, yan rise boys w/ cat mutant reader hcs? feel free to ignore

Reminds me of how I was called cat instead of my name that one time lmao- these aren't very long since idk I couldn't really think of any major differences (this goes with most animal mutant/yokai requests ngl)

Excuse me for any misconceptions with cats, I haven't been around one in a decade so- also- I did write this one as more romantic leaning

Tw: Donnie putting MC on a diet that's only beneficial for cats, Leo playing "shining knight in armour" bs, delusional, just fluff really

Yan Turtles with Cat Mutant MC Hcs

✦Ronald Reagan's Crusty Elbow✦

Finds you really fluffy and snuggly. If you aren't a touchy person please beware of him because he will want to cuddle. He loves to give scritches behind your ears just to see if you'll purr or make any other pleased noises. If you do, he is gonna be all soft to the point I doubt he'll want to let you go for a moment.

Want your fur to be brushed? Bro is all about it. He might even put on a little Soul music while he brushes you. He tries to make it as calming as possible.

If you idk lick his cheek or somewhere on his face (cuz you're a cat-) I think he would find your weird sandpaper tongue so interesting. Might giggle a bit from the feeling.

✦Lathering Nose✦

He is definitely an asshole. He'll do everything and anything to make you jump or get startled. But as soon as you are, he hugs you and gives a few pecks wherever on your face saying you're safe in his arms. Basically, he's doing the "I'm the cause of it and then acting like I'm saving you from it."

Something tells me he would love stuffing you into like a sack with your head poking out and cuddling with you while you're trapped in the sack. He is all about those nuzzles- he loves nuzzles.

He would 100% buy you weird hats for you to try on- because people do that with their cats. It could be an apple, a turtle, to Donald Trump's hair. He just loves funky hats to give you.

✦Dough Slapping Giraffe✦

He is going to ban you from eating any foods harmful to cats because he's a paranoid fucker. Don't think he won't know, because he'll have cameras, trackers, hell he might even straight up destroy that food forever.

We know he isn't too big on physical affection, but I think he'd like you chilling on his lap while he works. I like to think his lab is a bit chilly considering all the metal and other things, so he likes that you're warm.

I'm sorry but he loves being a menace and playing with you with a laser. Definitely not his lab, but maybe the living room or just a more open space will he whip it out and laugh every time you instinctually want to chase it.

He records any cat-like noise you make it. You cannot convince me otherwise. He'll likes to listen to it if he ever has issues with sleeping or idk whatever negative situation.

✦Morphine Sucker✦

Cuddles, snuggles, pets, scritches; he will be all over you if you're any type of fuzzy animal. If he ever feels bad or just feels lonely he shoves his face into your fur, most often your neck. He has a bad habit of playing with your tail. Not in a malicious way, but he wants to pet it or watch it move around.

If he ever cooks for you, he likes to shape any solids or sauce in the shape of a cat head. He also tends to put in ingredients that are more well-fit for a cat.

He loves the sound of your purrs, he'll just cling to you and listen to it every time it happens. Also, every time you purr, he thinks he's doing a good job at whatever and that his divinity is blessing him. So you're quite literally deluding him more.

——————————————————

I'm intimidated to write anything that's romantic omg- like I think I've scared myself into putting the least amount of romantic things when I say it's romantic leaning help-

- Celina

[punchliiine]

Hello, I hope it's okay for me to ask for some advice(it's okay if you don't wanna answer those!) I have some trouble grounding, I try to affirm that "shifting is easy" etc but everytime I try to ground myself it just doesn't "work" :[

hi anon!!

i'm going to speak about my experience first, then i'll give some generalized solutions that i think would work for everyone, you're free to change any to fit you!

so when it comes to grounding myself in any of my dr/s, atp i've manifested it so the assumption that i'll stay in my dr/s is enough for me to stay, but before manifesting that i used to go for 5 things you can see, 4 things you can touch.. etc. it helped me out the most in order to calm myself down and ground myself in there.

i also got this advice from one of my friends saying once you shift, pretend you're blind, and just focus on all other sensations instead. since seeing is the first thing you're going to do and the thing that'll probably freak you out the most (i'd say hearing, but you can't really block your ears while shifting so..?) as i was saying, once you have a feeling that you've shifted, try grounding yourself by focusing on your breathing, touching the bedsheets, sensing the weather, feeling your hands together.. etc.

another one i've got has to do with your sight. once you open your eyes and see that you're in your dr but you haven't grounded yourself yet, try finding things that have your favorite color.

for example, my favorite color is blue, so when i open my eyes and see that i'm in my dr, i'd immediately look for something blue that's in the room, it could be a lamp, it could be the sky, it could be my s/o's eyes (although i don't recommend seeing your s/o at all on your very first shift but to each their own), and then just focus on all the details this thing has.

so let's say it's the lamp, i would look at the lamp, and see what's it's textures like 'by observing' or ask myself questions about it like: what's the shape of the lamp? has it been on for a while? who turned it on? could it be [person's name]? shouldn't its light be a bit more dimmer? is the light bulb hot? "allow your mind to wander about it"

the mental struggle is REAL, your mind (and heart) will wander and most definitely freak out and that is fine. you're not used to any of this so don't give yourself shit for it (let's be real, who can calm themselves down when they're in the presence of their cc/s, especially for the very first time?) even if you couldn't manage to calm yourself down, which is more than understandable, try again and don't give up.

it's worth all of it.

also dw you're more than welcome to ask me anything

[isthischopper]

HEYY! Saw your requests were open, so why not give it a try??

Could you do a Luffy x reader, where luffy is cuddling Y/N? Thank u sooo much if ya do!!

hi there! i got a little carried away in the beginning, but i hope you like! thanks for my first request!

⁀➷ Dozed Off

⋆ Monkey D. Luffy x gn!Reader Fluff

It’s quiet on the ship. All you can hear is the waves crashing outside and the snores of a few other crew members nearby. The view from your window is uninteresting too, just the dark waters and occasional flash of moonlight from above. You try to clamp your eyes closed to somehow force sleep on your body, which never works, but you convince yourself that this time could be the first.

Ten minutes pass of the eye-clenching sleeplessness, and you’ve given up. Laying in bed obviously isn’t doing any good, so maybe a snack will set your mind at ease? You think about the scolding Sanji will give you in the morning for nosing around his kitchen, but you shrug and let your feet carry you outside of your room anyway.

When you round the corner into the kitchen, you’re surprised (or not so surprised?) to see Luffy in the same position you are. He’s leaned against the counter staring out into space with tired puffy eyes— like he’d woke less than a few minutes ago and decided he needed a snack. No judgement.

He soon notices your presence, smiling gently and offering to share the grapes he’s munching on. You decline, instead opting for the fried rice you’d somehow convinced Sanji to save for you. Simply taking it out of the fridge to eat cold and pouring a glass of juice for both you and Luffy.

You sit together quietly snacking, listening to the ocean, snores, and each other. Luffy’s eyeing your fried rice (the guy has no self control!), so you scoop up some of the best rice and toppings and hold it to Luffy for taking.

Soon enough, the snacks are finished and Luffy places the empty dishes into the sink. He looks tired, rubbing his eyes and stretching before looking at you with a blank expression. You rarely see Luffy in his tired, calm state. It’s cute! you think.

“Are you ‘gonna sleep tonight?” he asks and you groan, covering your eyes with your hands.

“Wish I could.”

“Well come with me!” he smiles “You can’t be all alone!”

You giggle at Luffy thinking he’s joking until he holds out his hand. He ushers you to take it, and you do, and now he’s giddily leading you to captains quarters without even giving you a second to think. Luffy’s big smile should be concerning (especially at this hour), but you pay no mind and allow him to pull you along.

You don’t recall ever being in Luffy’s quarters before, but it’s about how you’d expect. Sheets of paper covering tables, photos, and his personal belongings scattered around but somehow still neatly. His bed, while unmade, looks the comfiest of any bed you’d seen on the ship; fit for a captain.

“Get comfy, y/n!” Luffy says, stepping over to blow out a candle to leave the room in darkness.

You do get comfy, slipping into his bed like it was made to be. It feels like the blankets double your warmth and hug you just in the right way, and his pillow is the perfect cool temperature. He slides in too, careful to avoid accidentally knocking into you in the dark, but wrapping an arm around your midpoint and pulling your body close to him when he’s settled.

Luffy draws shapes on your arm to help your sleepiness kick in, but the fact that he’s cuddling with you in his bed… sleep is definitely not going to find you tonight. You try to calm your beating heart, but to feel his bare legs against yours, how he’s holding you against him, his fingers dancing on your skin, and his breath gently hitting the back of your neck, you’re wide awake.

You can feel the blush on your face, but Luffy seems unbothered. You try to match his slow breathing, and it helps, but you can still only think about him. How couldn’t you? You’ve got butterflies. Oh god. You think about his arm resting on your hip. You wonder if his eyes are closed, or if he’s thinking about you too? You try to listen to his heartbeat.

You don’t realize you dozed off until the sun shines through Luffy’s window. He pulls you closer in rejection to the sun, burying his face into your neck. What a soft side of Luffy, you think to yourself. The butterflies from last night come back and you wonder if he feels them too. Though his snoring says he isn’t feeling much of anything, right now.

When you wake for the second time, the ship’s sounds consist of Sanji’s cooking, Zoro, Chopper and Usopp chatting close by, Franky, Nami, Robin and Brook in the distance. But Luffy still is wrapped around you, while awake, but holding you close. You smile to yourself… you could get used to this.

Just worry about what the rest of the ship will say when you emerge from Luffy’s quarters!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -