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justabigassnerd · 2 years

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A gift to remember

Pairing - TASM!Peter Parker x reader

Word count - 3,146

Warnings - angst, mentions of death

Summary - it's Peter's birthday and you want to spoil him

A/N - it's another TASM fic y'all!! I'm not sorry at all I'm in love with Andrew Garfield and his Spidey. And I'm not joking when I say I have a notes page full of ideas for this Spidey and it's getting longer by the day. Big shoutout to Moose for helping me and listening to my ideas, I love you more than words can say. As per y'all, please send in requests and enjoy!

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Sliding out of Peter’s arms in the morning was always the hardest part of getting up. He was your personal heater, holding you close and keeping you protected even as he slept. But no matter how hard it was, you had to do it, especially because today was his birthday and you wanted to spoil him. Starting with breakfast in bed. As you moved gently, trying not to wake him up, he groaned and tightened his grip on you ever so slightly.

“Pete, I need to get up. I’ll be back in a few alright?” You whisper to him, pressing a kiss to his nose as he smiles slightly, opening his eyes sleepily. You manage to wiggle out of his grasp but not before pressing a second kiss to the top of his head.

“Ten minutes, don’t move.” You say, climbing out of bed and heading into the kitchen where you get started on making breakfast for Peter. You put bacon and eggs into a pan and start cooking them while putting bread in the toaster. You hum to yourself as you cook the food, thinking about the present you got for him, hoping he’d like it. You knew that no matter how much he tried to hide it from you, he still missed Gwen. His birthday was always tough for him since Gwen died and you understood completely. He lost his first love in horrific circumstances. You had first met Peter in a university class the two of you shared because in a last-minute rush you had forgotten a pen to take notes and since Peter was the closest person to you at the time you had tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he had a pen you could borrow. At first, Peter was quiet, he would only talk to you if you spoke to him first but over time he opened up. It wasn’t until the two of you became official that he told you about Gwen and the fact he was Spider-Man. You remember holding Peter as he cried, begging you not to get involved with any fights he may face. You agreed to Peter’s terms. As much as it kills you to let him go out and fight criminals you knew that he was more than capable of doing that and if you were out there with him it just gave him an extra thing to worry about during a fight.

You jump out of your thoughts when the toaster pops, revealing perfect golden toast and you turn the hob off, satisfied with how the bacon and eggs are cooked and start plating everything up, spreading butter on the toast and putting it alongside the bacon and eggs before pouring a glass of juice. You grab a tray and put the plate and glass on it, grabbing some cutlery and adding it on the tray too before picking it up and carrying it to your shared room. As you walk into the room you can see Peter has dozed off again, bringing a soft smile to your face. You walk over to the bed, placing the tray on your bedside table before perching on the edge of the bed, running a hand through Peter's hair to gently rouse him. It took a minute but eventually, Peter opened his eyes once again and smiled when you locked eyes.

“I smell bacon.” He says, tiredness still evident in his voice as he sits up.

“You’re correct. It’s not much but I wanted to make you a little breakfast in bed. You know because you’re the birthday boy and it’s my job to spoil you today.” You say, picking up the tray and handing it to Peter who places it on his lap and starts digging into his breakfast. You move to sit next to him, resting your back against the headboard as he eats.

“This is really good! Want some?” Peter praises, gesturing to his plate as he looks at you.

“No thanks, Peter. It’s your birthday breakfast, I’ll make something for myself in a bit.” You say, shaking your head as Peter rolls his eyes.

“Come on, you know you wanna. Besides, you can’t say no because it’s my birthday.” Peter says teasingly, getting some bacon and eggs on his fork and holding it up towards you with a cheeky grin.

“Okay but only because it’s your birthday.” You reply, moving closer to take a bite of the food.

“Good right?” He asks, his brown eyes lit up as he grins.

“Pete, I made the food surely I shouldn’t be praising my own cooking abilities.” You say, laughing as Peter gasps in mock offence.

“Well if you won’t compliment your cooking, I’ll have to do it myself. This is delicious, thank you so much beautiful.” Peter says, inching closer before pressing a quick kiss to your lips before returning to his meal. Once he finishes his breakfast you take the tray and tell him to get ready for the day. You wash the dirty dishes, cutlery, and glass and as you wipe down the tray over the sink you feel two hands rest on your hips and a gentle kiss being pressed on your shoulder.

“Hello, mister.” You say, looking over your shoulder and smiling when you lock eyes with Peter who rests his chin on your shoulder, occasionally pressing little kisses on your shoulder. His hair was damp, a clear sign he’d had a quick shower before getting ready for the day ahead.

“Go wait in the living room. I need to get changed.” You say, putting the tray down and turning to face Peter. You watch as he leaves the kitchen and heads to the living room while you go to shower and get dressed. Once you’re ready, you head into the living room and take Peter's hand in yours, attempting to tug him to his feet with a smile.

“Let’s go for a walk, go to that café you like.” You say, laughing as Peter dramatically flops against the sofa in mock protest.

“Come on bug boy.” You continue, you notice Peter's eyes flash with reminiscence, and although he smiles and gets to his feet you see the sadness he’s tucking away behind his eyes. He was thinking of Gwen. You slipped up and called him a nickname Gwen had called him and now he was upset. You’d done the one thing you didn’t want to do on his birthday.

“Are we going?” Peter asks, making you look to him, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, let me just get my shoes on, sorry.” You say, walking past him to put your shoes on, then grabbing your keys.

“Shall we?” You ask, gesturing with your keys towards the door.

“We shall.” Peter replies, the two of you exiting the flat and heading down to the exit. You step into the bustling streets of New York and if instinctual, Peter grabs your hand in his, holding on tight so you don’t lose each other. You didn’t really have a plan on where you wanted to go other than Peter's favourite café so that’s where you went. You enter the small building, welcomed by the smell of coffee and pastries. You tell Peter to wait while you order two hot chocolates and two pastries to go and once you pay and receive your drinks and food you join Peter and the two of you head out of the café to continue your walk. You walk to a nearby park and sit on a bench, watching the people walking past as you eat.

“We should probably swing by and see May after this.” You say, breaking the comfortable silence after you took a sip of your hot chocolate.

“I take it you don’t mean literally swing by?” Peter questions jokingly, raising an eyebrow as he looks over at you.

“Of course, I don’t. You’d give poor May a heart attack.” You say, shoving his shoulder as you both laugh.

“We’ll finish our drinks and then go and see her.” Peter says as you nod in confirmation. You always tried to make sure Peter sees his aunt as possible, especially since he had moved out and he owed it to her to visit every so often. When the two of you finish your drinks, you chuck the rubbish in the nearest bin and start the walk to May’s house.

“It’ll make her happy to see you, Pete, we haven’t stopped by in a while.” You say, manoeuvring through the sea of people with Peter stuck to your side like glue.

“She’ll be happier to see you.” Peter replies, glancing over at you momentarily with a small grin before suddenly tugging you out of the way of a businessman who was speed walking down the street, phone held up to his ear in one hand and a large coffee in the other.

“Maybe we should’ve swung.” You mutter, cursing lightly when you get jostled by another person storming past. Eventually, the two of you make it to May’s house and knock on the door.

“Peter!” May exclaims happily when she opens the door, throwing her arms around her nephew and pulling him into a tight hug as you watch with a smile.

“Hi, Aunt May.” Peter says, reciprocating the hug.

“y/n, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.” May says, releasing Peter and moving to hug you.

“It’s good to see you too, May.” You reply, squeezing her tight before letting go. You then all go into the house and sit in the kitchen.

“I didn’t know if you were going to come by today but on the off chance, you did. I got some cake and a present for you, Peter.” May says, opening a cupboard and pulling out a tin with a small cake inside it before hurrying off to her room and coming back with a neatly wrapped present and place both on the counter in front of Peter.

“May… you really didn’t have to do this.” Peter starts, glancing from the cake and present to his aunt.

“I’ve been getting you birthday presents since you were born, I’m not going to stop now. You’re my boy Peter.” May says with a smile which Peter mirrors, clearing his throat so he doesn’t choke up at her words. You watch as Peter opens the present, revealing a new case for his camera. You see Peter's eyes light up at the sight as he leaps to his feet, wrapping his arms around his aunt and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you so much!” He exclaims, practically bouncing off the walls in joy.

“You’re welcome, Peter.” May says as Peter releases her from the hug and moves to sit next to you again.

“That'll keep that camera of yours safe. God knows how it's still standing.” You tease as you admire the case, knowing Peter has dropped his camera too many times for it to be functional anymore but by some miracle, it hardly looks like it’s been dropped as many times as it has. May then gets some candles and puts them on the cake, lighting them before you and her sing happy birthday to Peter as he smiles, taking your hand in his. When you finish singing, he blows out the candles as you and May clap.

“What did you wish for?” You ask, resting your head on his shoulder as he laughs.

“I can’t tell you otherwise it won’t come true.” He replies, kissing the top of your head and you groan and pull away. You help May cut the cake, putting the slices on plates, and handing them out along with forks. The cake was delicious, May had made it herself. She told you that every year since her and Ben took him in, she would make Peter a cake for his birthday. You thought it was so sweet that May did that for Peter, she clearly loved and cared for him so much and it made you happy to know Peter has such a wonderful mother figure in his life.

You spend the majority of the day with May, enjoying her company and listening to her tell stories about Peters childhood, much to his embarrassment. As the sun starts to begin its descent you decide to head home. The streets were not as busy as they were earlier but there was still a fair few people around. You make it home relatively quick and upon Peter's request, you order a pizza for dinner, neither of you being in the mood to cook something. You sit on the sofa as you share a pizza, conversing quietly while the tv blares in the background. When the pizza has been eaten and the box thrown away you get the courage to give Peter his present.

“Stay put I’ve got a present for you.” You say, getting up from the sofa and heading to your room to find the present you got Peter. When you reach the room, you dig the box out of your bedside table drawer before returning to the living room. You sit beside Peter and hand the present to him. Nerves eat away at your stomach as Peter opens the present, revealing the dog tags on a chain. You saw Peter open his mouth to say something, but he stopped when he noticed the engraving on one of the tags. You’d taken them somewhere to get Gwen’s initials engraved on one side and his on the other.

“I thought it would be nice for you to have a way to keep her close. I know how much you miss her and… god I’m sorry it seemed like a good idea at the time…” You start, your voice becoming quieter when you noticed Peter hadn’t said anything and was just staring at the engraving. Without thinking you get up and dart out of the flat, your feet taking you up to the roof of the building. You sit down on the edge of the roof, legs dangling down as you watch the hustle and bustle of the nightlife of New York City. There was something peaceful about being above it all, watching it without having to get involved. You wondered if Peter did things like this on patrol or if he was too busy to get a break. You bit back tears as you thought about Peter. You’d messed up twice and ruined his birthday for him and you couldn’t forgive yourself. It was the first birthday you celebrated since getting together and you wanted everything to be perfect for him. You hug your arms around your waist in a vain attempt to block out the chilling wind blowing past.

“Figured you would’ve come up here.” Peter's gentle voice makes you jump which makes Peter fire a web from his web shooter and pull you away from the edge of the roof. You scramble to your feet and look at Peter with wide eyes. You didn’t know if you would’ve fallen or not but knowing Peter wasn’t willing to let there be even the slimmest chance of you falling made your heart flutter.

“Peter, I’m so sorry. I should’ve thought the present through a little bit more. I-” You’re cut off by Peter pulling you into one of the tightest hugs you’ve ever been trapped in.

“Stop apologising. I love it.” Peter whispers, running a hand through your hair to calm you.

“You do?” You ask, pulling away slightly to look up at him, your eyes shining with unfallen tears in the city lights.

“Of course I do. You didn’t have to get me something to remember Gwen by, but you did. You were thinking about a way to help me heal and keep Gwen with me. You’ve always been there for me when I needed you and you care so much. And I love you for that.” Peter’s words make your heart stop as you look up at him.

“You… love me?” You question, tears springing to your eyes again as Peter nods, his small smile growing.

“How could I not? I know Gwen would’ve wanted me to move on and she’d be so happy seeing that I fell in love with someone as beautiful and caring as you.” He says, leaning forward so your foreheads are resting against each other’s, both of you smiling as you look into each other’s eyes.

“I love you too, Pete.” You say, leaning in and connecting your lips. Neither you nor Peter had the courage to say those three words before now but neither of you could deny the pure love you felt being with the other.

“I was thinking.” Peter says when the two of you pull apart for air, but still maintaining a close distance.

“A dangerous habit of yours.” You tease, laughing slightly as Peter pouts jokingly, receiving a kiss on the end of his nose to change his pout into a smile.

“As I was saying. I was thinking, when you first left the flat, I noticed there were two dog tags, and only one of them was engraved. I’m going to find a place and get your initials on the other one.” Peter says and, at that moment, you notice he’s wearing the dog tags, he really did like the present.

“My initials?” You question.

“Yes, yours. Gwen was my first love. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you. You deserve an engraving on one of these too.” Peter says, holding the dog tags loosely between his fingers before dropping them again and reconnecting your lips once more. This time, when you pull apart you both wordlessly decide to head back into the flat to get out of the cold.

Upon returning to the flat, you get into comfy clothes and go into the living room to watch a movie. Peter decides to sprawl across the sofa and lay his head in your lap, but you don’t mind. You sit there and run a hand through his hair, admiring the softness as you smooth his hair out of his face, having been ruffled in the wind. As you watch the movie, Peter kept stealing glances up at you, admiring your smile or the way the colours reflected off your face, making you look even more gorgeous than he thought possible. He couldn’t believe how lucky he got with meeting you after convincing himself there was no chance, he’d find love after Gwen. He’d never forget Gwen, she’ll always be a part of him but with each passing day he felt himself healing, and it was all thanks to your love and dedication. It had taken him longer than he should’ve to realise just how in love with you he is but now that he told you. He wasn’t ever going to let you forget it.

#justabigassnerd #spiderman #the amazing spider man #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker

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animeomegas · 3 years

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Omega!Naruto getting married

Anon: Omg omg bro I just saw the amazing and wonderful art of naruto in a white dress and it just got me thinking. Could you do naruto and his alpha getting married pllleeeaaassssee🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺I also wanna show you the picture soo badd he's so beautifullllllll

(Omg tag me in this 🥺I want to see!!! Naruto is so so beautiful you’re absolutely right and I love him and this was so far down my writing list but I just really wanted to write it anyway. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3)

I wrote for a Western wedding because I have no idea how Japanese weddings work (although I’m taking a degree in Japanese rip)

Warnings: Alcohol mention.

This boy will never admit it, but he always dreamt of getting married when he was a child.

When he was really young, he asked the Sandaime why people get married and the Hokage told him that marriage is what two people did when they loved each other more than anyone else.

Naruto always wanted someone to love him and so he clung to this in a similar (but less extreme) way, to how he clung to his dream of becoming Hokage.

He always imagined his future self as the most badass ninja/Hokage with a beautiful mate/spouse and some little prankster pups who would love him and who he would love unconditionally in return.

And so when his alpha finally proposes to him.

This man goes a bit crazy.

As soon as the shock wears off, you suddenly get bombarded with him shouting about a thousand different things he wants at the wedding, and what food there should be, and “Do you think they sell orange wedding cakes?”.

He wants an insanely big and extravagant wedding.

It’s probably best to just humour him.

Proposal:

You were already mated to Naruto when you proposed.

Naruto lowkey believes in soulmates and when you had been courting for about a year he knew you were his.

His very next heat came around, and boom, you were mated.

You proposed about a year and a half after that, spurred on by Naruto’s less than subtle hints about it.

Naruto loved being around his friends and he also loved positive attention, so the idea for your proposal came naturally.

You threw a get together for him and his closest friends. Good food, plenty of drinks and board games.

Naruto was laughing and smiling all night. He teamed up with you for the games, sitting on your lap the entire time.

He used this vantage point to demand congratulatory and commiserative kisses everytime something happened in the game. You could feel him smiling into the kiss each time.

The plan was working perfectly so far.

As the evening began to wind down, you stood up, immediately garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

You cleared your throat awkwardly as all the eyes in the room settled on you. Sakura gave you a thumbs up behind Naruto’s shoulder.

‘You got this!’ She mouthed, eyes twinkling with excitement. With her encouragement in mind, you took one final deep breath before beginning.

“Sorry to interrupt you all, but there’s one more thing I have to do before everyone goes home.” You started, successfully avoiding any unfortunate stutters or out of control nervous scents.

Naruto furrowed his brows at you, confused. You only smiled, silently telling him to wait.

“I have an... announcement of sorts to make.”

“Then get on with it.” Drawled Shikamaru, smirking at you from the corner. You glared at him for teasing you, but he was too busy dodging a ‘shut up’ punch from Sakura to notice.

“As you all know, I’ve had the honour of being mated for Naruto for almost two years now,” You focused your gaze onto your mate, watching him perk up at the mention of his name. “and I have been madly in love for every minute of it.” You paused thoughtfully. “Even the minute when he drank out of date milk and threw up all over my bed.”

Naruto went red as his friends giggled at him. He let out an embarrassed whine as you joined in the laughter.

“You didn’t have to tell them that!” He groaned, voice muffled from the cushion he had temporarily buried his face in.

“What I’m trying to say, is that when I met Naruto my life changed forever, for the better. I can no longer fathom a life where I could live without him.”

You turned to address Naruto directly. He was watching you closely. Maybe he was starting to guess where this was going.

“When I wake up next to you, when we invent terrible ramen flavours together, when I bandage you after training because you tried to show off and hurt yourself,” You laughed breathily. “Those are the moments when I am the happiest. The common denominator is you, Naruto, my beloved mate.”

No one else in the room mattered now apart from you and Naruto. You took one final breath to steel yourself, before dropping on one knee. Naruto gasped, his hands coming up to cover his mouth.

“Which is why I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.” You pulled the ring box out of your pocket, opening it to reveal a simple golden band.

“Will you marry me, Naruto?”

Naruto nodded furiously, his bottom lip wobbling as his eyes filled up with tears.

“YES! YES! YES! A thousand times yes!!”

Naruto threw himself into your arms as his friends applauded and whooped in the background. You caught him with a happy laugh, leaning to kiss him. Naruto reciprocated enthusiastically, earning a few wolf whistles from his friends.

Naruto’s scent was that of pure sugar and you revelled in it, certain that your own was the same. Eventually you pulled away from the kiss, wiping a tear from Naruto’s eye, cradling his face gently in your hands.

“A toast,” Chouji’s voice called out, interrupting your thoughts. “To the newly engaged couple!”

All your friends cheered, raising their glasses in a toast to your engagement.

“May their love last forever!”

You laughed gleefully. Forever indeed.

Planning:

Naruto has a lot of ideas and a lot of passion, but not so much in the planning skills department.

I hate to say it, but Naruto is a little bit of a Bridezilla type. A cute one though, so that’s better?

He really really wants a lot of random specific stuff that he dreamt about as a child, but he’s not good at organising it so you get a lot of:

“Alphaaaaa, can you book [insert incredibly specific wedding thing]?”

“Alpha, alpha, alpha, can you find a [insert incredibly specific wedding thing] for me, please???”

Here is a list of some, not all, of the things Naruto wants for his wedding. Bolded are ‘no compromises allowed’.

A traditional, white wedding dress (He knows he can wear whatever he wants, but his life has only ever been atypical and he just really wants a traditional white male omega wedding dress.)

An orange wedding cake (Naruto wants an orange wedding cake, but he can be persuaded to settle for orange detailing instead of the solid orange monstrosity he originally wants.)

A ramen course ( he wants one of the courses to be ramen of course! The idea of a really expensive, fancy ramen course just makes him melt with excitement. Nobody is surprised when they see ramen on the menu.)

A big wedding (He will invite the whole village if you allow him to. Ultimately though, as long as there’s room for every friend he’s ever had, he’s happy.)

Double barrelling your surnames (He really wants to take your name. Now that you’re married and mated, you’re a team for life and he wants that reflected in your names, but he also spent most of his life without family, and his name is one of the only connections he has to his mother. As such, he would never be able to lose it completely.)

A stag do/bachelor party (He just thinks it would be fun to get together with his other omega friends. He wants to hang out with his friends and wedding party for a night without anyone being away on missions for once.)

A honeymoon in Konoha (Naruto doesn’t want to travel for his honeymoon. Konoha is his home and his favourite place to be, so he wants to be there. If you desperately want to travel, you could probably organise a half-and-half style honeymoon. Half in Konoha, half wherever you want.)

Two empty chairs for his parents during the service (He has lost so many people, he could never leave empty chairs for them all. He keeps everyone he’s lost in his mind on his wedding day, but his parents are the ones he misses the most on his special day. When he looks at the empty chairs, he likes to think that they would be proud watching him get married.

The Wedding:

Naruto is fully bouncing off the walls.

He’s so excited. And nervous. But excited.

He gets ready and when he gazes at himself in the mirror, he feels amazing. As a child, he always thought he would cover his whiskers with make up, thinking they were on of the reasons people treated him differently. But now, as he stares at his reflection, he wears his whisker marks proudly.

Everyone pitched in to make the wedding perfect. Ino with the flowers, Chouji with the food, etc.

The wedding was kind of a bizarre mix. Some parts were strictly traditional and other parts were... orange.

Naruto had plenty of fireworks set up to go off in the evening, and this ended up being one of his favourite parts of the day.

Naruto asked Iruka to walk him down the aisle about a month befpre the wedding. Iruka 100% cried when that happened. And then Naruto cried because Iruka was crying, it was an adorable mess.

You got married outside. The sun was so bright, and the weather was warm but with a slight breeze.

Naruto and Iruka wait just out of everyone’s view. When they send the signal, everybody stands.

You watched in awe as your mate turned the corner, grasping tightly at Iruka sensei’s arm.

He was stunning.

The sunlight reflected off his blond hair like light off of water, his white dress adding to the blinding effect. Naruto had refused to tell you what he would be wearing today, but this was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

As he reached the end of the aisle, your mate gave up on being graceful, running the last few steps and throwing himself into your embrace. You caught him easily, twirling him around. Laughter rang through the hall.

“You look stunning.” You whispered in his ear, gently stroking up and down his arms.

“So do you.” He grinned in return.

The ceremony flew by. You had tried your hardest to listen, but you couldn’t stop staring at your mate instead. His eyes were always one of your favourite of his physical features, but they had looked especially magical today.

Before you knew it, it was time for your first dance.

You hadn’t planned anything and you certainly didn’t take any lessons, so it was just you and him, in each others’ arms, swaying together to the music.

Naruto felt warm in your arms as you swayed. You took a moment to nuzzle your face into his scent glands, pressing a firm kiss to his mating mark while you were there. Naruto hummed in delight, holding onto you even tighter.

“My omega. My mate. My husband.” You breathed into his ear, knowing how much he loved his new title.

Naruto shivered and purred in response. “I love the sound of that, you know.”

“I’m aware.” You laughed, using the distraction to twirl him. Naruto completed his twirl before trying to twirl you as well.

Other couples soon began to join you on the dance floor, but you and Naruto only had eyes for each other.

“I love you, more than anything else in this world Naruto, never forget that.”

“I love you, too. Forever, I promise.”

“Do you love me more than ramen?”

“What? Can’t you just be happy with second place?”

“Narutoooo.”

“Fine... Joint first.”

“I hate you.”

Naruto barked out a laugh at the look on your face.

“No, you don’t.”

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

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Little doll

Pairing: dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: stockholm syndrome, manipulation, controlling!Bucky, unhealthy relationship, mentions of violence in the past (no graphic description), smut, vaginal sex, oral sex (both male and female receiving), vaginal and anal fingering, slight praise kink.

Summary: You used to be a strong-willed independent woman, but after a whole lot of training, you’ve finally become Bucky’s perfect little doll for him to own, love and take care of.

A/N: I had this idea in mind today and wrote this in a couple of hours for @jtargaryen18 ‘s 4k writing challenge. Congrats! I hope it’s decent lmfao

There is no graphic violence or non-con in this story, but it’s stated/hinted pretty heavily that these things did happen in the past. Reader has no physical description. 18+ only. English is my third language so sorry for any mistakes.

7.09 am

There’s a pulsing ache between your legs and a hot breath fanning over your neck that sends tingles down your spine.

“Baby?” you mumble in a daze, still half asleep, moaning and clutching the sheets when you feel a finger tease your entrance.

“‘Morning, sleepyhead.” Bucky murmurs, peppering your cheeks with small kisses.

You can’t fight back the smile that spreads on your face and you slowly pry your eyes open, finding your husband already looking at you in adoration. He lets his lips move downwards, nipping the skin of your throat and sucking little bruises there. A moan escapes you when the hand that was kneading your breasts pinches one of your nipples while his fingers keep sliding in and out of your pussy, sending jolts of pleasure all over your body.

You’re burning up, feeling a familiar pressure build up in your core already. You’ve been together for years, but you’ll never get over how good he is at this.

His hands are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The hair on his chest and lower abdomen rubs on your sensitive skin, and you can’t get enough of all this. You never will.

His name is on your lips like a prayer as you beg him for more, for that sweet release only he can give you. He complies, spreading your legs and settling between them. He trails open mouthed kisses down your body, slowly bringing his face to your awaiting cunt. The anticipation of what he’ll do to you is killing you slowly. He licks a strip of your dripping pussy and dips his tongue in your folds, pushing as far as he can go.

“So sweet.”

He groans against you when you grab a fistful of his long hair and the vibration goes straight to your core, making the knot inside you tighter. You grind your hips against his face, fucking yourself with his mouth and crying out loud in pleasure.

“So wet, so needy, all for me.”

He draws circles on your swollen clit and crooks a couple of fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that makes your toes curl and your back arch even more.

You’re writhing underneath him, desperate for a release.

“Please, faster.” you moan, bucking your hips wildly.

“Beg for it.” he demands, jerking four fingers inside of you.

His bruising touch, the vibration inside your cunt, his soft kisses. It’s all too much and still not enough.

“Please Bucky, please let me cum all over your face, please, please, I’ll be good for you.” you beg like the cockslut you are.

He sucks hard on your clit, and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge, body shaking uncontrollably and vision going white. .

You’re spent, panting on the bed and feeling the familiar burn that his beard leaves behind on the soft skin of your inner thighs. Your walls flutter around nothing, and somehow you want more.

“Such a good girl for me.” He looks at you through half lidded eyes, lips red and swollen, face covered in your slick. You taste yourself on his tongue when he dips down and slants his mouth against yours, reigniting the fire inside of you.

“Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to come again, all over my cock? Yes?”

You whine, feeling yourself grow hotter than before. “Yes, please, fuck me.”

He thrusts inside you, slowly at first, faster once he can sheathe himself fully without feeling any pain. You’re still sore from yesterday, but the familiar stretch of his thick cock is so good that you ignore the burn. You only feel him and the pleasure he’s giving you.

“So perfect, made for me, my sweet girl.” he grunts in your ear, and the praise sends jolts of electricity directly to your cunt.

Your hands are roaming over his hard muscles and your walls are clenching down on his cock, impatient for another orgasm to wreck you.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of him fucking you, his balls hitting your ass, the squelch of your arousal, and he’s so vocal with his moans and grunts that you could come hard just listening to him.

His pace is more frantic than before. Your walls are milking him as he pounds into you relentlessly. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pleasure, Bucky dips his hand behind you, fingers covered in your slick teasing your back entrance and pushing inside you, finding no resistance in your relaxed state. His pubic bone hits your clit repeatedly and you’re so full of his cock and fingers and him that you see stars.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my cock. Show me how good you are.”

He snaps his hips harder against you and you cry out when the pressure in your core releases, jolts of pleasure shooting from your cunt to the rest of your body, vision going blank.

He swallows your cries with his mouth, and the feeling of you clenching around him is enough to send him over the edge too. His thrusts become sloppier and he cums hard, holding onto your waist with a bruising grip and biting down on your bottom lip.

He collapses on top of you, and you relish in the feeling of his hot release filling you up.

“Love you.” he mumbles, caressing your cheeks.

“Love you more.” you whisper with a smile, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

You stay impossibly close for what feels like hours, Bucky still inside you, encompassing your whole body, until the alarm clock goes off and he lifts himself up with a grunt. He stares in fascination as his cum slowly drips out of your cunt and onto the sheets.

“Don’t wanna go to work today, doll.” he whines, clinging onto you again and pouting like a child, “Wanna stay in bed with you.”

You chuckle, because he’s always so needy in the morning, and push him off you.

“We’ll stay like this all weekend, I promise. Now go get ready.”

The smell of freshly brewed coffee invades the kitchen and your senses. You love the fragrance, even though you aren’t allowed to drink it. Bucky says it’s bad for a dainty doll like you. You remember you used to be addicted to caffeine before; it was the only thing that kept you going during your long, strenuous shifts at the hospital you worked at as a nurse. Bucky provides for you now, so you don’t have to worry about that exhaustion anymore.

You drink loose leaf herbal tea these days.

You smile when a ray of light shining through the window hits the diamond ring on your fourth finger, projecting a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls. The eggs are sizzling in the pan, the bread slices are toasting in the oven and you can hear the faint noise of Bucky taking a shower.

You arrange the table the way he likes it: buttered toast and scrambled eggs on a plate, yoghurt and cut up fruit in a little stained glass container, a steaming mug of coffee, a tall glass of ice cold water and fresh flowers in a vase; the paper towel goes to the right side of the plate, with a fork and a knife with the sharp side that faces left on top of it. You nod in satisfaction at the spread and remove the strainer from your teacup.

Bucky greets you with a peck on the lips and a bright smile. He pulls the chair back for you, ever the gentleman, and sits on the other one, “Any plans for today?”

“The usual, y’know. I may go for a walk at the park, if that’s okay with you?” you hesitate on the last part, giving him a hopeful smile. You love to collect the wildflowers in the meadow and feed the ducks at the pond. Plus, walking is good for your health, and Bucky has you exercise at least once a day anyways.

“Of course you can, princess. Do you have enough birdseed or do you need more?” he asks, chewing a mouthful of eggs and toast, “I’ll give you extra money if you want to get it.”

You’re grateful he agreed. Truth be told, he hardly ever denies you anything now that you’ve learnt to behave. “Thanks, but it should be enough to last me another week, I think. Is Steve coming for dinner tonight?”

He shakes his head and sips on the coffee you made him, just the way he likes it: two sugars, one splash of full fat milk, a sprinkle of chocolate powder. “No, I think the punk’s staying home with Sharon tonight, ‘member her?”

You nod. You do remember Sharon. They’ve been dating for a while. She is a nurse like you used to be. Would Steve make her keep the job?

Bucky doesn’t seem to notice your pensive mood and checks his phone as he finishes the last of his strawberries. “God, it’s 8.35 already. I gotta hurry sweetheart, don’t want to be late again like yesterday.” he says with a mischievous smirk.

You feel warmth creep up your face at the memory of the reason why he was late, and you clench your thighs shut as you recall the image of you bent over this same table you’re at and him pounding into you from behind. He wouldn’t leave unless he gave you one more, and then another, until you were shaking and crying in pleasure.

You both get up. He grabs his jacket and backpack, you hand him the lunch you’ve packed for him. He pulls you in for a sweet kiss, holding you by the waist. You taste the coffee lingering on his tongue and it reminds you of another life.

He pulls away and nuzzles your hair, hugging you tightly. “I’ll miss you.” He mumbles in your ear, inhaling the calming scent of the lavender shampoo he’s chosen for you.

“I’ll miss you more. Have a good day at work.”

“Thank you, have fun at the park. Behave.”

You wave him goodbye from the front porch and stand there until his sleek black car disappears in the distance. You sigh, missing him already, and get inside, ready to start your day.

9.00 am

Bucky is a business manager at Stark’s IT company and his job is a 9-5, Monday to Friday, which means every week day you start your chores after he leaves.

He likes the house spotless and you never want to disappoint him. You shudder at the thought of what happens when you do. Thankfully, it hasn’t occurred in a while. Only bad girls get punished, and you hate punishments too much to be one.

You start downstairs: you open all the windows to let the fresh morning air inside and get to work. You vacuum and mop the floors, disinfect the kitchen counter and empty the dishwasher, sanitize every surface in the bathroom until it’s squeaky clean and smells like Bucky’s favorite lemon scented detergent. Then you move upstairs: you wipe down all the furniture, scrub the ensuite, change the soiled sheets and sort through the hamper, separating whites and colored.

You hum as you work, proud of yourself because you’ve perfected the cleaning routine in your time with your husband, so now it only takes you an hour and a half now to do the entire house.

You grab the basket of dirty linen and clothes and head downstairs to do the chore you hate the most: laundry. The basement where the washer and dryer are makes you quiver in fear when you think of it, but you haven’t found the courage to ask Bucky to move the appliances upstairs yet. Sometimes you still have nightmares about your time there, and Bucky has to hold you and rock you all night to calm you down.

It’s where you spent the first six months after he took you, locked up all alone. He’d visit you every night, but you didn’t appreciate that. You feel guilty now for all those times you fought him, especially the one time you managed to break his nose with your elbow and sprinted upstairs. He caught you just one step before the front door. God, you were so stupid. You’re lucky he got to you in time. What would a girl like you do without a man like him?

As punishment, you spent a week locked in a wardrobe, with no food and barely enough water to survive. You stopped fighting after that, and when he got you out you sobbed on his shoulder and let him hold you and bathe you. You slept in his bed that night, and all the nights that followed in these 3 years.

Bucky never meant to hurt you, only take care of you, but you were too stupid to understand that back then. You understand now.

12.55 pm

It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun is bright and there’s a light breeze blowing from west.

You think of how you weren’t allowed to leave the house until a year and half ago. You missed the outdoors. But Bucky is a fair man and he lets you go wherever you want now that he can trust you. He even takes you on weekend trips wherever you desire. Maybe if you’re good enough, one day he’ll buy you a car, so you won’t have to walk everywhere.

You still have a tracker implanted in your forearm, but that’s for your own safety.

You spread a blanket underneath your favorite tree; from your position you can see both the water and the meadow, and that lovely wooden bridge over the pond too.

You’re basking in the sun as you reflect on all the new hobbies you’ve picked up now that you don’t have to spend the better part of your days in a hospital.

You embroider, you try out new recipes, you read, you do yoga, you paint and draw, you collect flowers and leaves and you dry them up in your botanical journal. You’ve become quite good at taking care of the garden in these past few months, and the roses you’ve planted are growing nice and strong. Sometimes you go for a swim in the ocean, some others you go shopping. The house is entirely decorated in your paintings, and you often give them to Bucky’s friends and family too.

You don’t have friends or family anymore. You only have Bucky.

You never thought you would enjoy these activities so much, just like you never thought you could be so free. Of your job, of so much pain and sorrow, of the hardship that comes with free will, of the choices you make that weigh you down until you can’t sleep anymore.

Who knew having your freedom taken away would be so liberating. Not you.

You have Bucky to thank for that. He always knows what’s best for you.

5.29 pm

Bucky’s been thinking about you all day and as soon as he’s clocked out, he couldn’t come back home fast enough. He smiles when the front door opens and he’s hit by the smell of freshly baked cookies. You really spoil him too much.

You run into his arms as soon as you realize he’s back, hugging him tightly, mumbling about how much you’ve missed him.

You’ve made dinner for him, just like he expects of you. Homemade basil pesto pasta, grilled salmon, oven roasted vegetables, white wine for him, tonic water for you because alcohol is bad for little dolls, white chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

You chat about your days over food, and when you’re both done you clean up while he changes into more comfortable clothes.

He has a reward for you, since you’ve been so good lately, but he wants you to earn it.

“On your knees.” he commands, and like the perfect doll you are, you comply.

You look up at him with your innocent doe eyes and Bucky knows he could come at the sight of you so beautiful, so obedient alone. His hands work swiftly as he pulls down his sweats and gets his already hard cock out.

“I want to fuck your mouth.” he says, tracing your lips with his red tip, “Open up, doll.”

You do as he says. You take him in your mouth and his eyes instinctively roll back at the feeling of your wet tongue licking a strip from base to tip; your cheeks hollow around him, sucking him off, one hand pumping his length and the other massaging his balls.

He aches for more, so he grabs a fistful of your hair in what is probably a painful grip, judging from the way you gasp, and he takes that as an opportunity to slant himself inside your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. He shoves himself deeper and deeper until you can't breathe, your face is red and your eyes full of tears. You steady yourself holding onto his thick thigs as he keeps fucking your mouth harder, balls slapping your chin.

Saliva is dripping down on your face as you’re choking on his cock, and those gagging noise you make vibrate against him, making this all the more pleasurable. He knows you won’t complain anyways, no matter how much he abuses your mouth or your cunt.

He knows you’ll always comply. He’s made sure of that.

With a last thrust in your mouth he pulls out just in time to paint your face with his hot spurt. You look perfect with tears streaming down your cheeks and his cum all over you.

“You did so good princess.” he praises you, and you smile up at him, “Go get cleaned up now, we’re watching a movie. You choose.”

You beam, and he knows you’ll choose one of those Disney movies you like so much.

Good girls always get a prize.

11.00 pm is your bedtime. Little dolls need their 8 hours of sleep.

You’re already fast asleep, and Bucky looks in complete devotion and adoration at your form. You’re so pretty, so perfect, so completely his.

You’ve been so good lately that he hasn’t had to punish or discipline you in more than six months.

You’re no longer the stubborn woman you used to be, the one that broke his nose and resisted all he’s put you through for months. You’re finally a little doll for him to own, love and care for. His little doll to dress up and play with. He’s especially happy tonight, because he knows you’ll love the reward for being so good this time.

It’s only taken Steve two years, because Sharon wasn’t as strong as you, but he’s done now.

Bucky knows how lonely you can get. Tomorrow you too will have a friend, another little obedient doll like you to play with.

read my other dark!bucky fic here

I hope you liked this! If you did, please reblog and let me know what you thought of it. 🥺

#jtargaryen18s4k #bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader #dark!james barnes #bucky x you #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you

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criticizing-blogger · 3 years

Text

Dean's Promise

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warning: smut in the beginning, cursing, mentions of absent father

Word count: 2229

Dean and reader meet in a bar one night and they go back to his motel room. In the morning, she finds him gone and she goes on with her life as normal till a couple weeks later when she finds out she's pregnant. With no way of getting a hold of Dean, she goes on with her life. Until a few years later when he shows back up into town.

_______________________________________

Bar glasses clinked against each other as toasts were being made. One toast was being made in the far right corner of the bar. A group of three women sat in the booth, chugging their drinks down and slamming their glasses onto the table. They had decided to celebrate (y/n) for her promotion today by getting drunk. What these three friends do best in a small town like this where nothing happens and the only entertainment is getting drunk.

The bell on the door chimed and a man walked in. He pulls on his leather jacket, fixing it as he looks around. He caught the eyes of a few ladies as he walked over to the bar. Sitting on the stool, he looked around once more catching the eyes of (y/n). She looks over at him, a flirty smile appearing on her face. The stare between them broke as her friends started pushing her out of the booth. “Girl, go!”

“Wish me luck, ladies.” she states as she smoothly slides out of the booth. The mysterious man watched her strut her way over and sit in the stool next to him. She smiled looking at his pale green eyes as the bartender came over and asked what he wanted.

“Beer,” he replied. “I want to remember this night.”

“Dean.” The man introduces himself to the woman next to him.

“(Y/n).”

Mouths slamming together, teeth clashing as (y/n)’s back harshly slams against the motel door as their hands explore each other’s clothed body. Dean's mouth leaves her and trails kisses down her neck, looking for her sweet spot. When he found it, he sucked hard causing her to let out soft moans of pleasure. She started to push him away, trying to get his attention but Dean ignored her.

“Dean.”

“Hmm?” he hums as he goes back to her soft lips.

“Dean!” she softly shouts.

He pulls away, a bit startled at her yelling.

She giggles at him before speaking, “don’t you think we should get inside before we start giving people a show?”

“Lets entertain them then,” he chuckles and goes back to sucking hickeys on her neck. She laughs pushing him a little bit away to reach into his left front pocket of his jeans for the motel room key. Her hand grabbed a hold of it and she turned to unlock the door, his arms sneaking around her waist as he kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder and back.

Once the door was open, she grabbed his hand pulling him inside. Dean slams the door shut and pushes her against, shoving his lips against hers again. She pulls at his jacket, him quickly ripping it off as she tugs on his shirt; also, taking it off. Dean rips open her shirt, the buttons to her blouse flying everywhere, her bra barely covering her breasts that were spilling over the cups. He grabs at them as she leaves hot, open kisses down the middle of her chest and towards her jeans. He unbuttons them, pulling them down to her knees.

She lifts one foot up to take off her shoe, taking off the other one after, before taking off her jeans, throwing them across the room along with her shoes. Dean grabs a hold of her hips, keeping her still against the door and kisses right above her panty line under her belly button. She bit her plump bottom lip as he slowly pulled her underwear down her legs. She could feel herself becoming wetter and wetter by the thought of him eating her out.

He pulled them off, throwing the article of clothing across the room. He slides his hands to her thighs massaging them as he pulls them apart. Dean lightly trails kisses up her inner thighs before softly kissing her clit. She lets out a quiet moan, already feeling sensitive. He smirks, looking into her eyes and licks a stripe up her pussy, causing her to moan out, surprise. He lets out a chuckle as she tugs on his short hair impatiently. All she wanted was for him to make her feel good. Make her cum till she cries from being overly sensitive. And for him to keep going.

Dean grips her hips tightly pushing her against the door to keep her from thrusting forward and starts eating her out, slowly at first. Teasing the woman till she can’t handle it. He kept slowly messing with the woman above him till she harshly tugs his hair, begging him to stop teasing. He knew she didn’t want him to be slow, but he wanted to make this last all night. He has plenty of time to make her wetter than any man has had, especially since they have all the time in the world.

“Dean, please!” she begs after several minutes of his nonstop teasing. “Stop teasing!”

He decided to listen. He ran his middle finger up and down her slit, coating the finger in her wetness before putting it in her. She starts to let out moans as he attaches his lips to her to clit suckng while thrusting his finger in and out. He still had one hand tightly gripping her hips, which may leave bruises, to keep pushed against the motel room door. Not that he didn’t mind, it’ll be one of the many reminders of this night. Dean was planning on making sure she remembered every detail of what’s to come tonight. He will make sure that the next time she sleeps with other men that she will think of tonight. How she’ll think of his hands feel roaming her body, his mouth leaving bruises in their wake, the way his body feels against hers, and he feels inside her.

(Y/n) moans got louder as Dean felt her clench around his fingers. He knew she was close so he pulled away. She lets out a whimper and looks down to glare at him. The light hit his chin showing her juices running down. She watched as a drop ran down his chin to his neck. She knew she was wet, but not that wet. That’s exactly what Dean wanted. He wiped his chin and stood wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close and capturing her in a desperate kiss.

He let her go and stepped away to pull the rest of his clothing off as she reached behind herself to unhook her bra. She stared into his green eyes as she revealed the rest of her body to him. Dean licked his lips as he reached for her, pulling her back into a short kiss before pushing her onto the bed. She leans up onto her elbows, biting her lip as she admires Dean’s chiseled body.

“Like what you see?” he smirks.

She rolled her eyes and fully lays down. “Less talking, more doing.”

“Yes. ma’am.” He leaned above her, quickly kissing her neck before lining up with her entrance. He slowly pushed in watching as her head fell back and her mouth opening wide. He lets out a gasp of breath from how tight she is. Once he was sheathed inside, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as if it was possible. He slowly started thrusting, testing the waters first. But she whimpered and thrusted up towards him, impatient, wanting more than what he was giving her.

So, he fully thrusted out before slamming into her causing her to scream out. He was pretty sure the whole motel heard. Maybe the next town over. But neither of them cared cause they were both only together to get what they wanted. A one time meeting and they never have to see each other again. Or that's what they both thought for now.

Dean started thrusting faster. She wraps her arms around his back as she lets out loud moans into one of his ears. Dean could feel her clenching around his member making him slam harder into her. He slows down and sits up. He grabs both her legs and puts them on his shoulders before thrusting into her again. She let out louder moans, now he was sure the whole motel could hear, at the new position. Her hands gripping the sheets tightly as her head falls back. Dean could feel she was getting closer and closer.

Both of her legs fell after a few minutes of his hard thrusting and with a loud cry, she came. Dean soon came after off, dropping on top of her body; both of them sweating. He rolls off of her and lays for a few. He turns his head to find her already asleep and a smile grazes his face without him realizing it. He brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Dean could feel his heart pounding and butterflies erupting in his stomach. But he then realized what he was doing and quickly pulled his hand and turned to face the other way.

* * *

“Noah!” (Y/n) yells walking after her three-year-old who took off for the playground. He ignored her and started climbing. She rolled her eyes, chuckling and sat on a park bench to keep an eye on him. Every time she looked at him, he reminded her of the man she met that one night. They were so alike. He has his hair, his smile, his attitude despite Dean not being around for Noah to catch onto.

Everyday for the last few years since finding out she's pregnant, she thought of Dean. She would drift off randomly during the day, dreaming about the night of meeting in the bar. She doesn’t regret it. That night gave her a gift. The most wonderful and beautiful gift she has ever received, and she wouldn’t have done that night any different. (Y/n) accepted the fact, long ago, that she knew she was in love with that man. At first, she tried to deny it but eventually, she accepted it.

The woman tried doing research on her computer but there was nothing about him. It was like he didn't exist. That made her want to know more.. But how could she when there was no evidence of him online like there normally would be with lots of people. At some point, she had to accept she would never be able to find out who he is and would never see him again. She hated that her son wouldn’t be able to meet his father.

Until somebody sat next to her on the park bench.

She stilled, somehow knowing it is him.

She slowly turned her head to see him looking straightforward at the playground. Knowing who he’s looking at, she swallowed, her mind going blank.

“He’s mine, isn’t he?” he quietly asked. He already knew the answer. The kid looked exactly like him. But Dean didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want ties to the kind of world he lives in. But now, he knows he has no choice.

“Yes,” she whispered, looking down at the ground before looking back at him. She could feel tears welling in her eyes for never being able to tell him he has a child. There were doubts in her mind she didn’t want to believe. What if he doesn’t want Noah?

Dean was still looking at Noah. He's beautiful, he thought, a small smile appearing on his face. Tears formed in his eyes and ran down his face. She noticed him crying and she finally let her tears out. A large smile made its way onto her face, all doubts and bad feelings leaving her body. “Would you like to meet him?”

Dean couldn’t speak so he just nodded, wiping his face. She stood, wiping her tears and walked over to her son who was climbing down a net. He jumped off it and ran to his mom. He hugged her legs and started babbling about the slide as it was his favorite thing to play on. She smiled and bent down to talk to him. She told him there was a man she wanted him to meet and pointed at Dean. Dean waved when Noah looked at him. He looked back at his mom and asked who he is. She grabbed his hand and walked him over to Dean.

Dean stood when she got there. Noah hid behind her legs, his head peeking out. Dean bent down, giving him a small, friendly smile. “Hi there.”

Noah stared at him for a moment then shyly smiled. “Hi.”

“I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

“Noah.” he answered, less scared but still hiding behind his mom. “Who are you?”

Dean looked up at (y/n) and she nodded, answering the question that was apparent on his face. Dean looked back at his son. “I’m your dad.”

Noah’s eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn’t know what to think, but he felt confused, then happy. He lived a few years without a father and now he has one. He ran out from behind his mom and into Dean’s arms, wrapped his tiny arms around his neck as Dean’s arms wrapped around him. Noah whispered as tears rolled down his face, “please don’t leave.”

Dean was shocked at what he said and squeezed him harder. “I won’t. I will never leave you or your mom. I promise.”

_____________________________________________________

DEAN X READER TAGS

@akshi8278

SUPERNATURAL FOREVER LIST

@hobby27

#oneshot #dean winchester #dean #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural fluff #fluff

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 3 years

Text

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Three

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Canon divergent during Chapter 13 of The Mandalorian, serious pining

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

The trip to Nevarro was hell.

The Razor Crest now smelled like Baast, and after using his soap, their two scents had blended, and Din was going out of his kriffing mind. He'd taken to sleeping in the cockpit, having given up his cot, but it did little good.

It was like the essence of her had invaded every part of his home.

He'd started having dreams. Dreams of a world with sand dunes and plains of long grass, where towering forests of old wood grew and swayed in gentle, fragrant breezes. He dreamed of walking the rock and sand trails of jagged mountains, of climbing steep cliffs to drink from sweet falls that appeared out of the clouds.

And when he reached his destination, a rocky outcropping high above the world, a cat leapt over the rocks to land before him. She was sleek lines and dense muscle, her coat tawny, darkening to black over her muzzle and legs. Long tufts of fur drifted in the wind from the tips of her ears, and green eyes watched him with a thousand years of ancient wisdom.

He knelt before the regal creature and pulled off his helmet. She padded closer, circled him once, sniffed him curiously, and began to purr. The rumble soothed his soul, and Din closed his eyes as her sleek, furry cheek rubbed against his.

"Mine," he whispered as he reached for her, waking himself from the dream every time.

By the time they landed on Nevarro, he was desperate for air that didn't smell like Baast. A few more parsecs, he may have done something stupid.

He met her at the gangway with a heavy cloak. "Put this on, draw the hood, and try to remain inconspicuous."

She arched a brow before handing over Grogu. The kid stuck to her like glue, eager to be at her side whenever he was awake. It was a relief to know someone else was watching him, but at the same time, he missed the kid's continual company.

Baast shrugged into the cloak and pulled the hood over her hair before laying her hand on his arm. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You have been distant."

"Just busy." He held out a silver bar roughly three inches long. "Extendable staff, at least until the Alor can get you those sabres."

She smiled at him, the light just catching her fangs. "Thank you, Mando."

He tilted his head but tugged the hood farther forward. "Let's go."

They'd landed well after dusk, assuring a quiet, uninterrupted trip through the streets. Those that lingered paid them no mind used to seeing the silver beskar of an unpainted Mandalorian.

The bar was fairing better after the fight with Moff Gideon. Walls had been repaired, and the damage painted over.

He walked in and headed straight for the back booth, ignoring the eyes that followed. They knew better than to mess with him, and the music stayed lively.

Karga, however, wasn't alone.

"Karga. Dune," he stated, tossing three pucks on the table.

"Only three, Mando? I sent you out with four," Karga teased. "Did a quarry finally escape the famed Mandalorian?"

"She's dead; body recovery was impossible."

He watched Cara's eyes flick to Baast and down to Grogu, a smile growing as she pushed from the table. "There's the little womp rat!"

Grogu squealed his happiness, but Baast growled.

The low sound set his hair on end, causing Din to step back, between the woman and his clan. "Cara, not now," he said, no explanation, not sure he had one to give.

Baast placed her hand on the back of his neck, a place without beskar but covered by his cowl. Still, he felt it like a live wire jolt.

"Usenye!" Baast growled.

"Udesii," Din murmured, turning just enough to know he meant Baast.

"Whoa, someone's touchy," Cara muttered.

Mando didn't need this right now. The longer he stayed here, the more twitchy he felt, like something beneath his skin was itching to claw its way free. "Karga. If they ask, you tell them she's dead."

The man stared at him a long moment, assessing, processing before he gave a short nod. "I will log the information myself." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ingot of beskar. "For your trouble and the three on your ship."

"Where did you get that?" Din asked, picking up the ingot.

"Took it off some Imps after that last clean up." A second pile of credits, smaller than it should be, landed next. "Consider us even."

"Done," he agreed, hyper-aware of Baast's hand still light against his neck.

"And congratulations, Mando. It isn't every day a Mandalorian takes a riduur."

He felt Baast's fingers twitch but didn't correct Karga's assumption.

"You got married!" Cara gasped, loud enough to cause the bar to pause and look their way.

One long stare over his shoulder had them minding their business again.

"Baast'mal. Cara Dune, former shock trooper, now Marshal for the New Republic. Greef Karga, head of the Bounty Hunters Guild, and Magistrate of Nevarro."

"A pleasure," Karga grinned. "Is it true wives put off their armour when they decide to have little warriors?"

Baast snorted. "Di'kutla. Anade knows gar ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya."

Din couldn't help but chuckle. "She says, foolish. Everyone knows you train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger. My woman is all warrior."

The words slipped out, and he couldn't bite them back. Baast's hand dropped from his nape, but only to lower and slide in at his waist, sneak past layers of beskar and again find flesh barely covered. She pressed closer, a low rumble vibrating between them, and Din felt approval wash from her like a wave.

"Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil," she murmured, low enough only Din heard, informing him she didn't like it there.

He looked down at her, into the deep shadows of her hood as she clutched Grogu to her and found her eyes. This place had her on edge. With her Force sensitivity, he believed her, but he wanted to know why. "Tion'jor?"

"Too many bad feelings," she whispered. "There are hunters, many of them."

He gave a small tilt of his head. "Vaabir val olaror par gar?" he asked, wondering if they came for her.

A slight negative shake. "For news of the child."

Din was instantly enraged and leaned over the table toward Karga. "You're taking a bounty on the kid again?"

"What? No! Of course not!" the man cried in outrage.

"Mando." Cara laid her hand over his. "He hasn't, I swear."

Baast growled, causing Din to move his hand out from under Cara’s and block Baast in the same action. "There are hunters here for news of the kid. Get your cargo off my ship so we can leave." He swiped the credits off the table and turned to go, Karga already barking orders.

Din wasn't surprised when Baast's fingers snuck to the crook of his elbow. Or, he wasn't as surprised as he should be. A riduur walked where her mate could protect them and any children they might have. Her position kept her secure against him while hiding them behind a wall of beskar and weapons, handled by a highly dangerous predator.

"Mando, wait," Cara said, blocking their path. "Come to my place. You can rest, eat, and I can see the kid. I missed him."

Baast's fingers twitched.

"Cara," he hesitated.

"Please. We're friends. Let a friend toast your good fortune."

Another low warning growl rippled from Baast when Cara touched his arm.

"She has nayc staabi!" Baast snarled.

Din looked down at her. "Technically, neither do you."

Her hand snapped off his arm like he'd burned her, shock and disappointment so profound it hurt, hit him like a rampaging mudhorn.

She took a step in retreat, Grogu clinging to her, the kid looking just as devastated.

What had he done? Kriff! Why would he say that?

"Baast!" he shouted but was too late as she spun on her heel and raced from the cantina. "Kriff!" he bellowed and gave chase, Cara hot on his heels.

"What the hell was that, Mando?" Dune demanded as they slammed through the doors only to find a deserted street.

"Not your concern."

"Mando!" She grabbed him by the vambrace. She had no way of knowing how close he came to putting her through the wall. "What's really going on? Who is she?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's a Mandalorian thing." He shook her off and looked for Baast's tracks.

It didn't surprise him at all when they went up a wall and over the roof.

Din took off after her, climbing as if his armour weighed nothing, leaving Cara behind to curse and swear. He followed long strides for some distance as she ran across roofs, finally leaving the residential district to head into a more industrial area.

Again her tracks went up, and he followed, climbing the narrow ladder to the top of a tower that looked out over Nevarro. He found her there; knees pulled to her chest, the hood thrown back, clinging to Grogu as the kid did his best to stroke the tears from her face.

"Baast."

She jerked but didn't move. "Go away, Mandalorian."

"I can't." He went to her and knelt, intent on taking her in his arms, only to have deadly claws close around his throat.

"You have not the right," she snarled, her eyes piercing him through the beskar.

Grogu huffed and sighed, appearing at once both annoyed and exasperated.

"Nayc staabi. No right, that's what you said about Cara."

Baast snarled. "If you want the shock trooper so badly, have her!" she snapped, pushing him back with strength, causing him to rock on his heels.

"I don't, and she doesn't want me. She would be more inclined to go for you," he chuckled.

She blinked big green eyes. "Oh…" Her hand slowly relaxed until it lay on his chest.

This time when he gathered her close, she didn't resist. "Forgive me. I said something stupid."

"But true," she sighed. "You did not dispute the claim of riduur. I knew it meant nothing but got caught up in my role. You are free to do what you wish with whomever you wish," she sighed.

Din didn't think. He didn't plan his next move. It was like instinct demanded he act, and so he did.

"Baast. Close your eyes."

She did so without hesitation or question as Din stripped off his gloves. The helmet hissed when he released it, causing her brow to twitch. Before he took it off, he wrapped his arm around her and covered her eyes with his hand.

"Din?" she whispered, her uncertainty clear.

"Trust me," he murmured, lifting his helmet free with his other hand. They were too high up for anyone to see, and the moons had yet to rise, leaving them bathed in shadows.

Grogu cooed and sat down a few feet away, apparently content to let the adults sort this out on their own.

Din gave him a last look before setting his helmet down and raising that hand to lightly, tenderly, stroke her face. "I don't want just anyone," he whispered, unable to deny what was written in his heart. "Just you," he sighed and lightly brushed their mouths together.

He'd never kissed anyone before, but he wanted to kiss Baast.

***

Din woke with a jolt and a clang of beskar as he fell out of the pilot's chair and onto the floor.

He lay there confused and disoriented until he realized the entire thing had been a dream.

He groaned softly enough that it didn't leave the safety of his helmet and pushed to his hands and knees before sitting back on his thighs. This trip was going to kill him. The dream had been far too real.

He picked himself off the floor and looked up to find Grogu smirking at him. "Don't start."

The kid gurgled a noise that shouldn't in any way have been cute but somehow still was.

"Hungry?" Din asked.

Grogu waddled closer, arms up.

"Of course you are. When are you not hungry?" he chuckled, picking up the kid and heading for the ladder down into the belly of his ship.

He was just getting Grogu situated when the door to the fresher opened, revealing Baast in nothing but a towel.

She jolted in surprise. "I did not expect… you… I…" A bright blush bloomed darkly across her cheeks. Then, she straightened, lifting her chin like a royal, firming her composure. "You have not joined us for meals as of late. I did not expect you and have washed my clothing."

His mouth was desert dry when he attempted to speak, but no words emerged, and Din was grateful for the helmet that hid his gaping mouth. He stared for too long before stepping away from Grogu and his gruel toward Baast. She stiffened, hand flexing where she clutched the cloth closed, but the Zentari didn't back down.

Din moved with cautious steps to the crates piled against the wall and shoved two over before picking up the third and setting it down on top of the others. From within, he pulled out blue silks. "I have this if you want it."

A regal brow arched, her wet hair sleek and sticking to her now brushed the tops of her thighs. "Why does a Mandalorian have a courtesan's dress in his belongings?"

He flinched, having hoped she wouldn't recognize it. "Because an assassin dressed as a courtesan attempted to kill me, but not until after she'd taken her clothes off."

Baast eyed the cloth a moment longer before gliding forward to pluck it from his fingers. "Did she succeed in the seduction?"

"No. That's why she was naked. She made a poor courtesan."

"Hmm," purred from her as she walked back into the fresher, and the door closed behind her. "And you have simply kept it lying around?" she called through the door.

Did she sound jealous, or was he still dreaming? "It's not something a Mandalorian can walk into the market and sell without garnering a second look."

"You were not, perhaps, keeping it for your riduur?"

The door opened, and Din forgot how to speak. Blue silk fell in sleek lines from the golden band that bared the under curve of her breasts. She swept out and headed for Grogu, sailing past him, her damp hair leaving a dark stain on the skirt.

"I haven't thought much about a riduur." Before now.

He followed her like a Bantha would a Tuskin Raider, and when she sat to help Grogu with his food, Din came to a stop behind her.

She looked up, but he knew the beskar made it hard for her to read him. "Is it that terrible? Do I not make a passable courtesan?"

"More than passable," escaped his mouth, his brain still malfunctioning. "But your hair is dripping."

"Wet hair does that," she teased him with a smile.

"May I?"

She blinked as he began to strip off his gloves. "Din?"

"Let me," he murmured, running his fingers like a comb through her thick locks. He sat on a crate and worked free what few tangles had formed before splitting the mass in half. He began the plait high, working it smooth against her scalp and down behind her ear. When his fingers brushed the pointed tip, a shudder raced through her, but a low, happy purr followed. He made it to the end and used a scrap piece of leather to bind the long braid.

"How is it that a Mandalorian knows how to do a woman's hair with the skill of a maid?"

He froze, fingers full of sand-coloured silk. "My mother," he murmured. "I once did it for my mother."

Her hand closed gently on his knee, Baast reaching back, otherwise staying still for him. "A good memory, I hope."

"One of my only good memories," he murmured, finishing the section close to her skull and swiftly plaiting the rest. Once he tied the end, she turned to look up at him and left him breathless.

He'd never seen a more mesh'la creature. Men would spend their entire fortune for one night with her. But Din looked at her and saw her dressed in the ornaments of a riduur. Beskar bands for her braids, the cuff that would circle her upper arm and proudly display the mark of the mudhorn, proclaiming her part of his clan. The beskar breastplate that would be hers the moment their first child was born.

"Then, I am pleased to help you remember it." She stroked one of the thick plaits. "I am happy to offer myself to your ministrations in the future, should you so desire to assist me again."

Vital portions of his anatomy tightened, causing him to rise swiftly and step away from her tempting allure. "We'll be in Nevarro soon. I'll see about more suitable clothing when we get there."

He climbed the ladder back to the cockpit, knowing damn well he was running away.

***

riduur - spouse

Usenye! - Go away!

Udesii - Calm down.

Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil - This place, I am on edge

Tion'jor - why

Vaabir val olaror par gar - do they come for you

nayc staabi - no right

***

Next Chapter

#star crossed:bound by blood #star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x ofc

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fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years

Text

Healing (Because Gotham’s Winter Hurt You)

Based off of this fic, by @catxsnow

Word Count: 1231

Notes: Hello! If you haven't seen the post linked, please do before you read this work, or it might not make too much sense. It's 1000% worth the read. Also, be kind if you choose to comment, please. This is very personal and feels very raw. I wrote all of it down in one go and decided not to add anything to it after it was done, so it's all rather emotional to me. All that said, I hope you enjoy it!

“But... that’s just wrong.” Roy says, staring at Dick with concern.

Dick shrugs.

“He didn’t notice.”

“Well, he fucking should have.” Roy frowns, exasperated. He never wanted to break Batman’s face as much as he did now.

“I was the one that insisted on the uniform Roy.” Dick says “I should’ve just thought about that.”

“You were nine.” Roy shoots back “And you hadn’t even spent an entire year in Gotham to know what it’s winters are like.”

“I was smart enough to know that winters are cold.” Dick stares back at his friend “Besides, if I didn’t say anything it’s because I could take it.”

The redhead almost feels tears welling up in his eyes from how angry, frustrated, and scared he was for his friend. But he pushed those away; this wasn’t about him. He’d have time to cry and yell when he was alone in his room. He could put all of his frustrations into arrows and shoot them off into dummies during training. Right now, this was about Dick.

Roy reached across the table to hold his friends hand.

“He’s just such a little soldier, this one.” Jason’s voice popped up in his memories “He never sees how wrong Bruce is, all of the time. Would probably die for the man.”

Dick didn’t hold his hand, but he wasn’t pushing it away.

The acrobat’s eyes dropped to the ground.

“He didn’t mean it, he just never noticed it Roy.” He mumbles “He didn’t... It’s not his fault. He’s not a bad man. He’s not. He’s Batman, he can’t be a bad man.”

Even from the distance, Roy could see the wetness in Dick’s eyes.

“Dickie,” He calls “Dickie, look at me.” Dick shakes his head, like a stubborn child “Please.” Roy says in a softer voice.

He couldn’t just allow his friend to suffer like that.

He couldn’t let his friend keep on believing the ugly lies he had told himself.

Slowly, Dick peels his gaze from the floor and his sapphire eyes meet Roy’s. He was wrecked, just as much as he usually was; little cuts and bruises still healing from the fights, cheeks beginning to hollow from how little he had been eating and dark eye bags from the lack of sleep – and maybe lack of iron in his diet. But now, now there was another, brand new layer of mess. Now there were tears, threatening to spill out.

“It wasn’t his fault.” He still mumbles, and Roy couldn’t help but notice the ugly strands of saliva that clung to his friends lips as he spoke. The redhead wondered when was the last time he had eaten today.

“Dick-”

“It wasn’t... It can’t be his fault Roy.” Dick sobs, but he’s holding Roy’s hand now. Roy’s thumb slid gently across his friend's skin, feeling a scar from a small cut that had healed weird “It can’t...”

Roy could understand what he was trying to say.

It wasn’t his fault, because if it was his fault, every single certainty I had in this life will crumble right in front of my eyes.

That’s what Dick was feeling.

And it broke Roy’s heart that he’d be the one to kick down the first block of a painful domino trail.

But there was no one else there to do it.

Roy walks around the table they were sitting, not letting go of Dick’s hand for a second until he was close enough to pull him into a hug, shielding him from the world, hoping that this would make things easier for his friend.

“Dick. He should’ve noticed.” He says, pulling back to look at Dick, really look at him for the first time in some time. Dick looks down and shakes his head so Roy nods to contradicts his movements “Yes, yes he should have.”

“No, I-I should’ve said something, he wasn’t a mind reader, it’s not-”

“Dick, you were nine and he was your father.” Roy grabs his shoulder gently, trying to get Dick to look at him again.

“He just... you can’t blame him for... he just didn’t see it, it’s not like he was beating me...”

“Yes, but that’s still bad.” Roy insists “You understand how it’s still bad, right?” Dick still shakes his head “I need you to understand that, Dick. I need you to try to understand that this was bad.”

“I was just cold, it’s not that big of a deal-”

“Dick, you had hypothermia. Several times.” Roy says “It was a big deal.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I survived, and I’m stronger now, I’m-”

“Dick,” Roy grabs him harder now, almost desperate “It’s still bad. It shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s not like he was actively abusing me, Roy.” Dick mumbles.

“Neglect is still abuse, Dick.” Roy says softly.

The silence in the room is palpable.

If one was to bring a butter knife to the room, one would’ve been able to slice through it and spread on toast.

“Dick. Neglect is still abuse.” Roy repeats.

“I-I,” Dick sobs, loudly “I know.”

The acrobat’s shoulders shake violently with the tears, rising and falling in a way that seems almost painful. Roy was grateful he was the one that had been there to talk to Dick. None of the other Titans, with the exception of Donna Troy, would have been able to handle this, and surely none of the bats. Dick rarely cried, but when he did, it was ugly and uncontrollable. Years of repressed tears falling out, screams ripping through his throat in an attempt to push out the pain he felt, drool staining faces and clothes, snot down his chin until his body gave out and he became a limp shell of a man, sometimes for a day or two before he could properly recover.

How’s all this repression working out for you, Batsy?

Roy pulled him into a tight hug.

“I know.” Dick mumbles between sobs “I know, I know. I know.”

Roy simply held him tighter, feeling Dick clinging to his clothes, fingers trying to grasp something, anything at all to support himself as he tried desperately to disappear, to melt into Roy’s chest, to become a puddle and be promptly cleaned by his surprisingly neat team. Of course, he couldn’t find enough support for that, and he fell from his chair, bringing Roy down with him. He still clung to the man, mumbling incoherent apologies.

“Shhh... it’s fine...” Roy tries to calm him down, fingers running through his hair and a firm hand on his back “It’s fine. I’m here, just let it out Dick. Let it out.”

And Dick does just that. Not by choice, but because the dam had already burst and it would take him some time before he could build the wall back up.

Roy wishes he could turn that dam into a river so bad.

Dick cries for what feels like an eternity, and it’s still not enough. He screamed into Roy’s chest for way too long, until his throat was hoarse and there was no way someone in the building didn’t know what was going on. Dick didn’t care, he couldn’t care, his mind just didn’t register it. And Roy didn’t care either, because there was no shame in this. Because if this was the first step towards Dick’s healing then whatever discomfort that may linger in the tower was worth it.

Hey! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging? It helps spread my fics so more people can see it and it makes me very happy.

Regardless, thanks for reading!

#dick grayson #roy harper #nightwing #arsenal #fanfic #fanfiction

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milazka · 4 years

Text

August twelve — Rudy Pankow

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where it’s your boyfriend’s birthday and you planned an amazing day for him.

request: yes

content: fluff

author’s note: i didn’t add a smut part because i feel like i’m only writing smutty imagines and i needed to write a fluffy one with this hottie! my requests are open and you can find my masterlist at the end of this post if you feel like reading more of my stuff!

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word count: 1700.

She was standing in the frame of the door, her pretty eyes observing the young man lying on the bed, his body half covered by the grey blanket. His chest was rising at a peaceful rate with no sign of trouble apparent on his angel face. A little smile slipped over her rosy lips as she thought about how lucky she was that this man was still a part of her life, twenty years later. Both born in Ketchikan, Alaska, just a few months apart, Rudy and her had grown up as a duo. hey did everything together. Rarely did you ever saw one without the other; she was the Bonnie to his Clyde and nothing in the world could have changed that. Over the years, they both had a few meaningless relationships, and they never lasted long. The girls were envious of his closeness with Y/n while the boys were quick to understand that she would never look at them the way she looked at Rudy; he was her person, but she hadn't figured it out yet. It was on a cold December afternoon, a few days before the New Year’s eve, that they exchanged their first kiss, their lips frozen by the Alaskan winter, both seated by the burning fire in the chimney. Five years later and in a much warmer town, she was looking at her sleepy boyfriend with the same sparks in her eyes.

“You're staring at my butt, aren't ya?”

Rudy's sleepy voice took her out of her thoughts as she laughed. His eyes were half opened and he had pillow marks all over his right cheek. His disheveled blond hair was falling out in front of his pretty ocean colored eyes. She carefully made her way to the bed, trying not to knock over the breakfast tray she was holding with both hands.

“I made you waffles”

“The blueberry ones?” he asked with his childish voice and she nodded. “For what occasion?”

“It’s your birthday, remember?” she chuckled as she watched his facial expression change from confused to excited. He has always loved his birthday, especially since the day she became his girlfriend and always planned a day full of surprises for him. Rudy grasped her blue sweater sleeve and lured her towards him to kiss her lips tenderly.

“Mmm you taste like maple syrup.”

“I may or may not have already eaten a waffle while cooking them,” she smiled, tilting her head to the side to give him her guilty puppy eyes, making him fall more in love with her. “I planned the whole day so you better start eating your waffles now because we’re leaving in an hour.”

“Did I ever tell you you're the best girlfriend?” he mumbled with his mouth full of waffles dipped in maple syrup.

“Many times, but I'll never get tired of hearing you say it, lover boy.”

“Good, because with such a good waffles recipe, you're stuck with me for a while, pretty girl!”

─── °• ❀ ───

Chase picked them up around eight pm in front of their apartment with his black truck, the rest of the cast were already at the the Pate’s house, decorating and preparing the cake. She had blindfolded his boyfriend and he kept asking where they were going every single minute of the trip like a child. He had done the same thing a few months ago when she took him skydiving for the first time, it was almost routine for her to hear him complain in the back of the car.

“Stop asking, you big baby!” she said to him, turning her upper body toward the back of the car where he was seated. “It’s a surprise, I’m not gonna ruin it because you can't wait for a few minutes.”

He gave her his pouting face and crossed his arms on his chest, knowing she would not say a word to him about it even if he tried harder. A few minutes later, Chase parked his truck next to Drew's car. She walked to the left side of the car to opened Rudy's door, quickly kissing him on the lips and automatically causing a big smile to cover his pouty face. She guided him to the backyard with Chase’s help. He opened the back yard gate, letting them pass in front of him before closing it back so Lilah's dog would not run away like he did multiple times when they filmed the first season of the show. All the cast members were silently gathered in front of a multicoloured cloud of balloons and were holding a sign that said 'Happy birthday, Rudy!'

“Okay, you can take your bandana off!” she said to his ear and he could feel the excitement in her voice.

Slowly, he pulled his blindfold down and a wide smile slipped on his lips at the sight of all his friends singing happy birthday to him. He squeezed his girlfriend's hand while his friends were still singing and she couldn't help but let a few tears of joy run down her cheeks when she saw him so touched by the surprise she had planned for him.

“Thank you for all of this, baby. I love you more and more everyday my sweet girl,” he whispered to her ear before leaning down to kiss her soft lips that tastes like caramel due to the caramel macchiato she drank in the car.

“I’m happy you’re happy, lover boy,” she said to him as he pressed his cheek against her palm, a smile at the corner of his lips. “Now, go hug your friends!”

─── °• ❀ ───

After her and Rudy hugged and thanked everyone, they all swapped their clothes for bathing suits that would come in handy during their little boat trip of the afternoon. Jonas had let them borrow his boat, taking advantage of the fact that his children were with them to spend a day with his wife at the spa. Drew was at the helm of the boat while the others were all sitting on the benches, toasting to Rudy's birthday just before Chase announced that they were far enough away from the shore to put the tube in the water. JD, Rudy and Y/n were the first ones to shotgun a spot on the pneumatic tyre.

“Babe? Can you help with the zipper?” Rudy asked his girlfriend, frowning completely clueless.

“He’s twenty-two and still needs his girlfriend to zip his life jacket,” Jonathan mocked him, resulting in him being pushed in the water by a proudly smirking Rudy who quickly followed him the water, grabbing Y/n by the waist to take her with him. She surfaced quickly thanks to her life jacket, clearing her face of wet hair and sending a wince at her boyfriend. They all swam to the tube, splashing each other on purpose along the way. Rudy climbed aboard first and reached out his hand to Y/n to help her climb up. She sat between him and Jonathan, clutching a black rubber handle with one hand while the other was firmly intertwined with her boyfriend's hand.

“Are you ready?” yelled drew, turning his upper body toward the back of the boat, his right hand resting on the wheel.

“Aye aye, Captain!” Rudy screamed back and the boat begun to pick up speed.

The water was splashing back in their faces and they could barely keep their eyes open, but they couldn't help smiling stupidly. The three of them let out cries of surprise and laughter every time they jumped a wave and almost got ejected from the tube. They could see Madison and Chase laughing at them while Madelyn filmed them for her next tomfoolery instagram post. Drew took a sharp right turn, dropping Y/n and JD on Rudy. She firmly grabbed her boyfriend's bicep after she lost her grip on the handle and pushed JD back up with her shoulder so he could settle back into his seat. Just when they thought Drew was done messing with them, he suddenly accelerated, ejecting them out of the tube like three little rockets.

“You fucker!” Rudy shouted to his friend, laughing before turning towards his girlfriend. “You okay baby?”

“All good and still in one piece!” she replied, swimming back to the boat where Deion gave her a hand to climb up. A few seconds later, she felt a towel being placed on her shoulders and two arms wrapped around her waist. She smiled, turning her head to meet the face of her boyfriend who had pressed his chin to her shoulder. He placed a few kisses on her neck, making her squirm under his grip from the tickling of his lips against her wet skin.

“Look at them! You guys are so cute,” whined Lilah, taking a picture of them. Y/n blushed while Rudy smiled proudly. “Can you send me the picture? I'm gonna post it on instagram.” rudy said as he grabbed his phone and sat on one of the benches while Chase and Madelyn were putting on their life jackets. She sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and playing with the hem of his boarding shorts, a gift she gave him for his birthday last year, right before he started shooting for Outer Banks. He quickly wrote a caption and posted the photo of them on his instagram, getting hundred of likes and comments only a few seconds after.

‘My sweet girl. Thanks for the amazing birthday surprise! Love you to the moon and back, my love.’

“I love you too, baby,” she cupped his face with her palms and kissed his salty lips. “Oh, before I forgot,” she brought her face close to his and took her sensual innocent voice. “Since it’s your birthday, I’m gonna let you do whatever you wanna do to me tonight.”

His eyes opened widely and he cleared his throat. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, pretty girl,” he kissed her, nibbling at her bottom lip. “I’m gonna please you so much tonight that you’re gonna beg me to stop.”

She smirked at him and grazed his crotch with her fingertips. “I look forward to it.”

─── °• ❀ ───

mila’s masterlist

taglist (send me an ask if you want to be added)

@milaonthemoon @spilledtee @pogue-writings @thebutterflyonhischest @ilovejjmaybank @bananasfromtarget @drewstarkeyobx @void-maybank @prejudic3 @pit-zuh @starlightstarkey @lefthandwritings @theonetheonlyalexbrown

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow one shot #rudy pankow obx #rudy pankow outer banks #rudy pankow fluff #rudy pankow fic #rudy pankow x you #rudy x reader #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx cast #outer banks one shot

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trojc-rewrite · 3 years

Text

The Rise of Jimmy Casket, Chapter 3

——————————————

Toast awoke to the sun blaring in his eyes and pain. Everything hurt, his throat, his leg, his back. He frowned as he shifted upwards. More hot pain flared through his leg, scorching up his side. He let out a small cry, immediately recoiling and lying back down. He groaned, rubbing his head.

Spooker shifted beside him, blinking tiredly. Toast had never seen him so tired before, his eyes were droopy and his hair was a mess. His beanie had sticks and leaves stuck in it, dirt and soot were smeared across his cheek.

“You look well rested.” Spooker said in a happy tone. Toast mustered up a smile.

“Yeah, hardly.” He said, trying to lean up again. More pain seared through him. He toughed it out, ignoring his body’s begging to tell him to sit. He needed to get up. He wasn’t going to let himself give up on why he came out here.

Toast weakly got up, trying to not put too much wait on his bad leg. Spooker helped him up. Colon was already up, examining the damage from the fire.

The wood was blackened and burned, just the tiniest bit warm still. Cracks and splinters scored the planks, letting Toast see inside of them. Something that stood out to him was the rippling green that stained the inside of some of the cracks. It wasn’t grass, it was a weird lime green, faint but still there. ‘What on earth?’

He reached down and picked up a small burned chunk, it stained his hand with ash. He examined the green some more. ‘What could this even be?’

Colon wandered over to him, looking curious. “How are you feeling, Toast?” He asked, glancing at the red cloth around his wound. Toast shrugged.

“Still alive, yeah?” He said. Toast showed Colon the blackened wood. “Hey, do you know what this could be?”

Colon took the piece gently, studying the green that emitted from the cracks. He shook his head, placing the piece back in Toast’s palm. “No idea, my best guess is that it could be something the firemen put on the fire last night.”

Toast nodded, stuffing the wood in one of his back pockets. “Well, we should keep going. The nearest town isn’t tha’ far away.”

Spooker stared at him like he had just suggested a crime, “Are you crazy dude? You can hardly stand! How are you gonna walk?”. He held out his arms in exasperation.

Toast shrugged, looking towards the North. “We’ll get there.” Spooker and Colon shared a look, but they didn’t need to say anything for Toast to figure out what they meant. “I know he’s out there. Trust me.”

Colon sighed, worried. “But what if he’s not, Toast? What if you get even more hurt or worse, and we’re just chasing something because you have a hunch! Toast; we’re worried. We know you miss Ghost, we do to-.”

Toast looked at him, “Just trust me. I know Ghost better than anyone here, just trust me.”

Spooker blinked, not saying any input. Colon gave him an unreadable look. “Fine, but if you get hurt again we’re leaving.”

Toast bit back a sigh. “Okay; then let's go.”

————————————————————————

They reached the town a little after noon, and the first thing Toast did was go to the library. The library was small, a line of old desktop computers filled a wall. Books of all volumes and colors sat in bookshelves that looked dusty. An older woman sat at a round desk in the middle of the room, flipping through a thick chapter book.

Toast limped up to her, Colon helping him while Spooker looked at a book shelf labeled “Romance”. She squinted up at him, fixing her glasses.

“Hello, how may I help you?” She asked, a small smile gracing her face. Toast returned it.

“Hello, I have a peculiar question. Would you happen to have any newspaper records on a man named Jimmy Casket?” He asked, feeling awkward. The lady blinked at him, a little confused.

“It’s for a school project for our little brother.” Colon said, trying to ease the tension off of Toast.

The librarian nodded, pursing her lips. “Well, we have a few I believe. You’ll have more luck in the towns a few miles over, dearies. But, I’ll go get the few that we have.”

She got up from her desk, and entered a room in the back of the library. Toast turned to Colon and nodded, “When did you pick up being that creative?” He asked. Colon shrugged.

“It’s probably the one thing Ghost taught me, to be able to lie on the spot.” He smiled playfully. Toast returned it solemnly.

A few moments later, the librarian returned with three newspapers, yellowed and crumpled a bit at the edges. “Here you are. I’m afraid it’s all we have.” She said, handing Colon the three newspapers. The two shared a look before Toast thanked her.

The two settled down on a table, opening the first newspaper. The title leaped at them in bold font, “Murderer struck down in South Carolina.”

Toast read quietly to himself and Colon. “ Yesterday, at 9:01 PM, a famous murderer in a small town in South Carolina, nicknamed “Casket”, was killed by police during one of his rampages. Witnesses say it was a horrifying experience. The man was no older than 18, and his step-mother, who preferred to stay anonymous, has told reporters that she ‘has no idea how he turned out this way.’

“ He was such a loving and kind child, accepting me right away as his father’s wife. When his father died, he took it upon himself to be the best figure possible for his family. I don’t know what happened to him.”

Police are still looking into possible victims of this man's heinous crimes. The towns folk are sending their regards to the families of his confirmed victims.”

Toast took a breath, finishing the paragraph. Colon blinked.

“Wait wait wait, who is this Jimmy Casket guy? How does this have anything to do with Ghost?” Colon asked, flicking the page of the newspaper. Toast traced a circle in the table.

“Let’s say I’ve met him in a few of my missions with Ghost.” Toast worded carefully.

The two finished reading the other articles and handed them back to the librarian. “You three boys have a nice night.” She said with a smile.

“You too ma’am.” Toast responded politely. Spooker was by the entrance of the library, reading Twilight on a bench. “C’mon Spooker put the book back, it’s time to go.”

Spooker frowned, sadly putting the book on a “put back” cart. He followed his co workers outside, it was night now. The moon shined down on the town, yellow lights dancing on the gravel ground.

“Well, we keep moving.” Toast said. Colon and Spooker groaned.

The three made it to the edge of town, making it out of a large pine forest. A river lay ahead of them, deep and murky. It was quiet and slow moving, but you could tell it was deep.

Spooker pointed to a bridge, “Let’s cross there.” He said. Colon and Spooker helped Toast to the stone and wood crossing. The wood was wet and rotten in spots, and it groaned as Toast stepped on it.

“Let me go first,” Toast volunteered. Spooker and Colon shook their heads at him, but Toast ignored them. He limped across the wailing wood, yelling under his weight.

As he got closer to the middle, a figure stepped out of the darkness. Long legs stepped lightly on the cedar, tapping away at the weak wood. Toast stared in confusion, trying to figure out who the person was.

His brother's face gleaned from the shadows, stepping out into the moonlight. Toast's eyes widened, blinking in shock.

“Gavin? What are you doing here?!” His brother's gray-green eyes glared at him.

“Sorry Johnny Boy, but I’m gonna have to stop ya righ’ ‘ere. Or else my frien’ might not be the happies’ with me.” Gavin apologized. Johnny could tell that his brothers apology wasn’t sincere in the slightest. In fact, it sounded more taunting than anything.

“What do you mean? Gavin, please what do you mean?” His brother stepped forward.

And then with incredible speed, green-orange fire erupted from his hand. Toast dodged out of the way, knocking into the railing. The bridge under him groaned in agony. Gavin’s hot flames flicked his face, burning his cheek

“Do ya like my tricks?! Pays when ya work with ghosts.” Gavin laughed. More flames shot from his palms, hitting Toast's feet. Toast tried to get away, but the movement was too much for the bridge.

His foot went through the rotten wood, and he grappled onto the jagged stone, barely saving himself from falling into the river. ‘I won't be able to swim. I'm too weak.’

Spooker and Colon cried out, “Toast!”. Colon stepped forward to charge at Gavin, but Spooker held him back.

Toast looked back up at his brother, begging for his remorse. “Please Gavin, I’m your brother!” He begged. His fingers hurt from grappling the wood, rotten splinters digging into his palms.

Gavin chuckled, “Yeah, but then ya got all lame n’ sappy with Mary n’ Ghost. You ain’t the same anymore. And Ghost is borin’ too now. Trust me, what we’re workin’ on, it’s for the good o’ both o’ ya’.”

Johnny glared at him, “Who’s we?” He asked curtly. Gavin growled at him.

“See ya’.” Gavin returned his brother's angry tone. He raised his leg to kick him. Toast grabbed his brother by the leg and yanked him down with him, letting go of the bridge. His brother yelled angrily.

“TOAST!” Spooker screamed in horror, racing to the edge of the bridge. Toasts world went deaf as he hit the water, slowing under it. His brother disappeared with a flash of green, leaving him alone to drown.

Toast tried to swim and kick his legs, but he just hurt too much. Everything hurt, he felt so heavy. Maybe he wouldn’t see Ghost, maybe he wouldn't hold up his promise to Mary.

‘Oh Mary, I’m so sorry.’ He rubbed his wedding ring necklace. He closed his eyes, sinking.

Then, something grabbed him by the torso. Gray and blue flashed hazily in his darkened vision. He kicked weakley, trying to help whoever had grabbed him.

He and his rescuer broke to the surface, and he gasped for air. Cold water trickled down his face, clogging up his senses. The world became hearable again.

His rescuer slapped him down onto the grass, and he could hear Colon and Spooker running across the bridge, ignoring the bridge's pleas.

“Didn’t your rich mother ever take you to swimming lessons?” A tired, sarcastic voice asked.

Toasts heart leaped in his chest, and he opened his eyes.

There, infront of him, was Ghost.

#p.i.e #paranormal investigators extraordinaire #venturiantale #johnny ghost #jimmy casket #johnny toast #venturiantale pie #fred spooker #colon ghostie

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cordonia · 3 years

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Lovelink: Hugo Hornsby (Bored)

Rating: PG Word count: 1603 Summary: Hugo Hornsby is late, and Isadora can’t help but feel herself slipping out of his life. Maybe some love fizzles out just like this; tired and bored.

"The games you played were never fun You'd say you'd stay but then you'd run"

Bored. Isadora hunched forward over the diner counter and rested her cheek against her fist, very slowly rolling her eyes. He was late, again, and that was becoming an unfamiliar habit. She was getting bored. The last time she had seen him, she was walking around her apartment in her underwear, making him a coffee while he awaited on the couch. He stared at her hips while rambling on about planetary disease and she just nodded along. Two weeks later, he was...

"Late. So late. I know, I'm so fucking sorry." Hugo Hornsby scrambled onto the neighbouring stool and tossed his wallet down on the counter.

Isadora both cringed and laughed inside when his voice dropped to a whisper as he swore, then rose again with an emphatic sorry.

His cheeks were ruddy and the brown sugar hair upon his head was unkempt. He slept in. And regardless, she was charmed, hidden deep beneath her impatience. Hugo Hornsby was sort of ravishing.

"Good morning, Hugo."

"No smile for your best friend?"

She frowned, deeply, just in time for a waitress to set a cup of coffee in front of Hugo with a lightly toasted bagel with too much butter. They'd only gone to this diner for a few months, but everyone knew their orders quite quickly. It was just far enough from the city that they almost forgot about the real lives waiting for them back home. Almost.

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you don't have time for friends, Hugo. You bailed on Taylor Thursday night too." He flinched, and Isadora braced herself for a pang of guilt, despite its truth.

"Taylor was a mistake, I already talked to him about it. If you two aren't dating anymore, why does he talk to you so much anyways?"

"Bitter-bug." If he was going to act like a child, so would she.

"What did you call me?" His brows furrowed, a crease forming behind the bangs that kept falling in his face.

"You're bitter that Taylor thinks I'm cooler than you. And why we talk is no longer your business, we're allowed to be friends. You introduced us to each other, it's not our fault we're close."

The dating ruse had been fun while it lasted, but soon it became clear that there was a lot more complexity to Hugo and Sally's relationship. They'd been so close, Sally almost gave in. But even if she had, would Hugo have chosen Isadora after everything that had happened? She wasn't sure she would have settled for being a rebound if it was Sally's decision to leave.

"I suppose that one is on me. And I am sorry I'm late, I spent my Friday night marking thirty science tests in my least favourite unit."

"You don't have a least favourite unit," she said bluntly. "How was date night with Sal?"

Hugo shrugged sheepishly, a bit guilty but mostly embarrassed by his lie. She knew he missed their original date night that week because there was no obligatory Instagram post about it. She hated that she knew the inside workings of his whole life. He was very predictable, even if he wasn't calling her as much anymore.

"I wanted to take her to the restaurant her parents brought us to when we graduated, but it was three hours away. We drove all of the way there and it was closed, then got stuck in traffic the whole way home. She's back to not talking to me, again."

"She should have killed you."

"Isadora?" He stared at her so earnestly her heart began to slow, anticipation like a heavy rock on her chest. Time was slow around Hugo, love took a lot more patience than she ever dreamed. "What am I doing?"

Breaking my heart, she silently lamented.

"You're living whatever life you chose for yourself. Very few people choose, Hugo. Don't you feel lucky?"

Maybe it was cruel, but she couldn't look at him as she said it. She wanted him to recoil, to show a glimpse of misery or regret for what could have been. She just didn't want to see it, it would make her too sad to sit next him and know he hurt just as much as her. For what? That was a good question.

Maybe the only look on his face was content and at peace with his choices. Maybe he wasn't hurting like her at all. She couldn't bear to see that either.

"I'm very happy for everything I have. I suppose I could consider myself lucky."

When she finally looked, she really couldn't read what he was feeling. All she knew was that she was soaking up every ounce of exhaustion clinging to the air like radiation. And it all came from Hugo. Who was he these days? Was everyone losing him like this or was it just her?

"I've been thinking about something lately. You don't text me anymore, I know we hang out here and there. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I miss waiting to see your name pop up on my phone during a long shift. It used to make my day, talking to you about the little things. Once upon a time we were just friends on an app and nothing else mattered." Back when it was hopeful to fall in love with him, when he made promises.

Not promises, she supposed, declarations maybe. Ideas. Dreams that turned into bad ideas.

"I miss you too. I know it's been different for a while, I've been torn in so many directions I don't have a brain left to communicate with some days. It's a lousy excuse, but I know how different it's been. It's not just... I really do miss you, I promise."

"Just text me, if you think about me some days and have the time. You don't have to waste any thoughts on me, ever. But if you do," she shrugged.

Hugo rubbed his eyes, sighed a little. "No thought of you is ever a waste, and if I were to text you every time I thought about you, you'd swear I was obsessed with you."

A sad smirk curled Isadora's lip and she leaned a little into his side. They sat facing the kitchen, not looking at each other, shoulder to shoulder.

"Not if I answered back to every one. Then we'd both be obsessed, that would be pretty pathetic I suppose."

"Incurably pathetic." His voice was smooth with a gentle authoritative tone that came from years of teaching.

The romantics dream, a very simple foundation to it at least, is to find someone who actively chooses you. Hugo Hornsby woke up some days and chose Sally, as he had for about a decade prior to meeting Isadora. Then there were other days, when he came over for dinner with her favourite snacks in a bag and sleek button up shirt, almost always green, with a smile just for her. And she swore, however delusional she may have been, that he chose her over and over again.

And then he'd leave. Rinse... repeat.

"Taylor mentioned that they have more auditions on Monday night, I was hoping you'd have time to binge Ito's new cooking show. Netflix gave him a wicked budget; there's a whole episode about trying to teach the prince to make desserts for his fiancee."

Hugo's dimples framed a wide smile, his deep blue eyes sharp under the harsh diner lights. "That sounds perfect! How about I bring some of the wine Sally and I made last summer?"

Isadora nodded, despite the notion of drinking that wine seeming slightly sacrilegious. They'd only ever gotten drunk together one other time, and during a particularly harsh wind storm. She fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 4am, holding Hugo's hand from where he laid unconscious on the floor. No matter how tight she had squeezed, he hadn't woken up. Isadora had cried silently for what seemed like ages, wondering if it was her first and last time to ever hold his hand.

She could never hold his hand in public, never kiss his lips in private, never feel his body curl around hers in a bed they couldn't share. Hugo Hornsby was not her fiance, or boyfriend, or lover.

He was just her friend, shoulder to shoulder with her in a diner on the off-beaten path outside of town.

"If you're bringing wine, I'll provide the cheese. Actually, I'll grab some back up wine too, the temperature drops Monday and we're in for a cold night."

"Perfect!" He cheered excitedly, earning a dirty look from a rather tired looking waitress.

"You're perfect," Isadora smiled. She swore Hugo even blushed. Did he blush for Sally? Did she ever try to get such a reaction from her partner?

"Isadora?" She stared at him expectantly and wondered if she could ever get sick of hearing him say her name. Her arm was still pressed tightly against his side, to the point that she was almost falling off of the stool.

"Yes, Hugo?"

"The butterflies don't go away," he whispered. Those blue eyes were dimmer, dimples disappearing into a tightened jaw. Isadora looked away and rested her head on his shoulder, for just a second. She pretended it was to comfort him and not herself.

"Everything dies, Hugo. Especially the butterflies."

He should know that... it happened with Sally, didn't it?

"And when you walk out the door and leave me torn You're teaching me to live without it"

#lovelink #hugo hornsby #lovelink fanfiction #hugo hornsby fanfic #fanfiction

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real-american · 4 years

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Supernatural: A dedication to its memory and how the show changed my life

Fifteen Years. 15 years and over 300 episodes of the greatest show on TV. 15 years of joy, heartache, tears, fun and inspiration; and for me, 15 years, two marriages one divorce, two tattoos and a show that brought me the love of my life. Supernatural has impacted us all on so many levels. I could easily write a 15 page academic paper on the seasons, the meanings behind each season and all the little things that made the show so great. Things such as the music, the brothers Winchester, the family dynamic, and the beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala (my dream car should I win the lottery. Black four door version of course). I could go on about each major and minor character, how they impacted the show and what each of them meant to me and the fans but this is not what this is about. This post is about how Supernatural changed my life and how it impacted me.

First a few housekeeping things to address regarding the final season and the series finale. I thought the pre finale show was excellent but definitely could have been longer and included more. However I do understand they only had 42 minutes or so to cram 15 years of memories and characters in so I understand they had to only hit the highlights. They should do a longer version for the Blue Ray 15 season collectors set which I'm sure they will make and that I am definitely getting. Regarding the final season, I thought it was excellent. My wife, who is also a big fan of the show (more on her later) didn't think it was as good as other seasons but enjoyed it none the less. The ending was good sort of expected with the two boys ending up in heaven together, but I was surprised they killed Dean in the sort of nonchalant way they did. Sort of anti climactic for the greatest hunter in the world. The final speech to Sam was heartbreaking and heartfelt and I loved it! I also loved the symmetry of how Sam's son Dean also gave him permission to leave this world as Sam gave (original) Dean all those years later. I'm glad they didn't show who Sam's wife was and she was just left as a mysterious place holder. Originally I thought maybe they should have had him with Eileen but in retrospect the way they did it was better and honestly I'm not sure if she (or the other AU folk) were even brought back with the rest of the world. Maybe someone can clear this point up for me. I was really surprised they didn't do the "carry on my wayward son" beginning but I soon figured out before it even happened they were going to do it in the end of the episode which turned out to be much better. All in all I give the last season an A- and the finale and how it ended an A+ Again there is a lot to say about the final season, the final episode, and all the seasons but I will leave that analysis to other people. This is about what the show meant to me specifically about how it helped me through my darkest days and ushered in my brightest of days which I am living now. This is that story.

I wasn't with Supernatural from the very beginning. The show premiered in 2005 and I honestly hadn't heard anything about it or did I know anything about it for a few years. I came off active duty from the Marine Corps in June of 2005 and after fighting my beloved country's wars for a few years I was out of the loop on many things. I first came across Supernatural on TNT catching a re run here and there but with no real interest and only getting bits and pieces of the story. In 2010 I met my first wife and was a casual fan at this point seeing enough re runs on TNT to get a general idea of the storyline for the first few seasons but again only as a casual fan. At this point of my life I was also falling down a dark hole. My alcoholism which is a result of my PTSD from my combat service started to get really bad. I was drinking more than most people could handle but as my father was, highly functional. This led to me staying with and eventually marrying my first wife which was a bad idea. She cheated on me constantly and probably didn't even really love me. We were also polar political opposites (you can figure out my political viewpoints from the rest of my blog) and not compatible really in the least. Why I ever stayed with her and married her is beyond me at this point in my life. So there I was drinking my life away in a bad relationship and trying to figure out how to manage my life. Then Supernatural came on Netflix and I decided to give it a real shot. This decision changed my life.

I quickly caught up on the first six seasons and started watching the show live starting with season 7. I was hooked. I loved everything about it. Dean and Sam, Cass the car, the brotherly love, the monsters, the angels, everything but I still didn't know how this show would impact me in the end. I continued to drink myself to death getting unhealthier fatter and no longer resembling the fit Marine I once was. I was in a constant haze drinking an entire bottle of whiskey every night to drink away the pain of my bad marriage and the pain of not being loved and cheated on by my wife. Supernatural was the one bright spot in my life.

In 2014 I finally divorced my wife but this was only the first step. I continued to drink and destroy my life causing me to get fired from my job. Fortunately I was hired on back into government work making much better money and with having no wife and no kids was finally able to live a little better financially but I was lonely and alone except for the alcohol. I continued to find refuge in the bottle but also in Supernatural. I watched every episode as it came on, re watched all the old episodes, blogged and facebooked about it to the point that I am sure I was annoying the one or two friends that I had. The rest of my life was a blur. Get up, stumble into work drunk or hungover, go home sick and jonesing for my next drink, bottle of whiskey till one in the morning, a few hours of sleep and starting the whole cycle back over. I was fat, ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside, and a bad human being. My drinking got so bad I destroyed my liver and was medically discharged from my job but was given retirement for all my years of service to the federal government. So now I was 33 retired with a pension and VA disability and really nothing to do but sit at home drink whiskey and watch TV. I had no love in my life, one or two close friends who didn't like being around me anymore because of my drinking, and my family was worried but couldn't get through to me. Even after my father died of alcohol abuse in 2015 I still continued down my destructive path. Finally in February of 2017 I was hospitalized and was told I would be dead in less than a year. I truly believe I was touched by God at this point because I went home dumped out three bottles of alcohol and never touched the stuff again to this day.

Now I had to learn to relive my life all over without alcohol. I started to exercise and lose weight (90 pounds in 5 months) I went back to church, and I started to try and find love again and of course needing distraction and something to occupy my mind I dove deep into Supernatural. I re watched and re watched again all the old episodes, I poured myself into analysis of the plot lines and characters, I got tattoos on my arms (the demon trap and the anti possession symbol), I obsessed with everything Supernatural. It helped me stay sober. When I wanted a drink I would watch an episode, when I was feeling lonely I would go hang out with Sam and Dean. When I wanted to give up I took refuge in the Impala. I became a super fan. So far Supernatural got me through my divorce, was my bright spot in my alcoholic haze, and helped me stay sober when I first gave up my demons. I cheered harder during the happy moments of the show and cried harder in the sad ones. I was an emotional wreck and my feelings only seemed to come out while watching the show. Although I had quit drinking, got rid of my toxic ex wife and started to improve my life, I was still not happy. I was alone and lonely but Supernatural came to my rescue once again.

Throughout 2017 and the first part of 2018 I managed to be in two relationships. I poured myself into them grasping at them as if they were my reward for turning my life around and ignoring all the signs that they were not good relationships. I was still learning to relive my life as a sober person. I never integrated back into society after I left the Corps in 2005 and finally I was doing so but it was a hard journey. Inevitably those relationships failed and I was utterly heartbroken each time, but Supernatural was always there through the good times and the bad. When my heart was broken I would go find refuge in my favorite show forgetting about my problems and trying to help Sam and Dean solve theirs. Finally in May of 2018 I decided to try and find love again. This time it would be different and this time it was Supernatural that helped me get there.

As part of my recovery and daily routine I started to eat at my local diner everyday. Everyday from about July 2017 to the present time in this story I would go in, order 2 eggs over easy, hash browns, sausage, and toast. Everyday I would sit in the same spot at the counter (counter 6 was the name of the spot) order the same thing and even had my own special coffee mug. I knew everyone who worked there by name and they all knew me by name. They knew my order and had it ready for me when I came in. It felt like a magical place, a place that would forever change my life. There was one waitress/cook that I didn't see very often. She mostly worked the night shift but occasionally I would see her if I was there later in the day than usual or if she occasionally worked a morning shift. I was drawn to this woman. About the middle of May in 2018 I decided to maybe try and work up the courage to ask her out. I would always look for her when I went in hoping she was working that day hoping she wasn't too busy so that I could exchange a few words with her and hoping she would even notice me. Then one day in July I went in and she was there. I said hello and ate my breakfast but we didn't talk much. When I was paying for my meal the other gal working there asked what my plans were for the day and I said oh nothing much just gonna go home and watch Supernatural. Then she turned around. The woman I had been trying to talk to, the one I wanted to ask out, Michelle was her name. She said, "I love that show I'm watching season 13 on DVD right now". I perked up a smile came across my face. Nervously I said, "oh cool yeah its my favorite show" Michelle nodded and turned back to work, I went to my car got in and smiled. I knew how I was gonna break the ice now next time. A few days later on my daily visit to the diner I went in a little later than usual. It was about 3 in the afternoon. It was dark and gloomy, raining, and cold. It felt like a Supernatural episode. It felt like a 67 Impala should have been in the parking lot and two good looking hunters should be in the corner on a laptop researching their current case. It felt like a magical moment. Turns out I was the only customer in the whole place. It was just me the waitress and Michelle who was cooking that day. They took my order without asking as the usually did and I could already see Michelle had already started cooking it. She finished and brought it to me herself. We exchanged a look and a feeling of confidence I have never had in my life overcame me and I said to her, "So are you enjoying season 13?" That is how it all began we started talking about the show. How we started watching it who our favorite characters were, how much we loved this season or that one. The conversation was seamless. We got into other get to know you topics around our conversation about Supernatural and it was like we were old friends talking about a show we loved. Eventually I got up and went to pay the waitress and she turned to go back to the kitchen in the back. Feeling an opportunity slip away I said "hey Michelle, maybe we should go get some dinner some time and watch some Supernatural together". I held my breath. She would surely smile and politely say no. She probably gets asked out all the time by the customers, beautiful woman that she is. Then she smiled and said "sure that would be great" I must have smiled so big and my heart skipped 10 beats! I got her number which she wrote on a order ticket and the rest they say is history. Ten months later I wrote ,"will you marry me" on the back of that order ticket and gave it to her at counter 6 at the diner where we met, where we first started talking about Supernatural, where my life finally changed for the better forever, and she said yes! We were married two months later on our one year anniversary and we just watched the final episode together yesterday. We both had tears, we both smiled when Sam and Dean, soulmates, were finally together at the end because we both know how it feels to be with each others soulmate. We held each others hand and said goodbye together.

Supernatural has forever changed me. It has been with me through every major event in my life over the last 15 years. Through the dark times, through the hard times, and finally through the current happy times. I guess it is ok that Supernatural is over now. I no longer need it. I have my wife, my Michelle, my soulmate. I am finally happy. I have Sam and Dean's permission to move on and they have mine. Good bye Winchesters. Good bye and thank you. You have taught me to carry on and find my peace when I'm done, and to cry no more. This is but one man's story, one of so many. How many lives has this show changed? How many people have found comfort in the adventures of Sam and Dean? I'm not sure the answer. Too many to count I would wager. 15 years and 300 episodes of the greatest show ever on TV. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

#supernatural #SPN #spn spoilers #SUPERNATURAL SPOILERS #Supernatural ending

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

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Riding On Ch 15: TFI Friday

Summary: It’s Friday (thank f**k), and Frank’s taken the day off work so that he and Fliss can take an early dinner before meeting the Circle of Truth to celebrate Bonnie and Simon’s engagement…but Fliss is struggling with her emotions, especially when it comes to leaving Alex behind.

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s…)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: A lot of fluff going down in this chapter…they deserve it! We also get to see Frank’s version of the events from Done With Nice Guys which was written by @smediumsmeatbae. Please check it out, it’s adorable!!!

Chapter Song: Laid by James (this happens to be another one of my favourites…give it a listen to!)

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

This bed is on fire with passionate love. The neighbours complain about the noises above, but she only comes when she’s on top. My therapist said not to see you no more, he said you’re like a disease without any cure, he said I’m so obsessed that I’m becoming a bore, oh no…ah, you think you’re so pretty…

Frank woke, reaching out blindly for his phone to silence the alarm. He swiped the button across and turned over, fully intending on giving Fliss a cuddle for another 5 minutes or so before he had to get up when realisation crashed over him and he gave a groan. He'd booked the fucking day off so he could take Fliss for a late afternoon-slash-early evening meal and had forgotten to turn off his bastard alarm.

And then it further dawned on him that it didn't actually matter because Mary still needed to get up and ready for school regardless of his day off or not.

But then…it was Friday. Her university day…which meant she wasn’t due in until 10…

With a grin his arm tightened over Fliss’ waist, hand splaying on her belly as he pulled her back into him, nuzzling his nose into her neck, feeling a stirring in his boxers where his cock was already semi-hard thanks to the life of its own it had in a morning. Part of him wanted to wake her for a bit of fun before the rest of the house rose, the other knew she was bound to be tired after Alex had been an absolute horror during the night, but in the end the decision was made for him as he felt her shift a little, before she stretched out her limbs, a soft sigh escaping from her mouth. "Morning Sailor..." Fliss yawned.

"Morning Cowgirl" He said, closing his eyes and snuggling closer into her. “I didn’t wake you did I?”

“The alarm did.” She shifted slightly before she propped herself up to check on Alex who was fast asleep "Yeah, now he sleeps" she grumbled.

Frank gave a chuckle and pressed another kiss to her neck "yeah he was really not playing ball last night was he?"

"3 times." She groaned "He's a bottomless pit Frank."

"I told you to stay on bed the 3rd time." Frank sighed.

"Once I'm awake I'm awake." She shrugged. "He cries and it’s like my boobs send an alarm to my brain.”

Frank chuckled "Well like your mom suggested, introducing the formula should help. He'll fill up from less and give you a break."

"You mean because I can't feed him what he needs myself." She let put a sigh and at that Frank took a deep breath and propped himself up on his elbow.

"Hey, look at me." He said sternly and she rolled onto her back, her brown eyes blinking up at him, auburn and blonde hair splayed across her pillow "you checked with the doctor, she said this perfectly normal..."

"Then why do I feel so shit." She asked, tears brimming her eyes "I can't even feed our baby properly.”

"Come ‘ere..." he said gently as she rolled onto her side facing him, his arms cradling her close as she pressed her face into his chest, sniffling "Lissy, you're a wonderful mom. Don't start beating yourself up about something that in the grand scheme of things really doesn't matter."

"It matters to me Frank..."

"Look, he won't give a shit whether what he's getting is from you or not. He just wants food." He said gently, his hand rubbing up and down her back, underneath the sleep cami she was wearing "if anything the fact you're doing this shows how much of a good mom you are. You spotted something that he needs and you're doing what you have to do to give it to him.” She stayed silent bar her little sniffles and he gently pressed a kiss to her head. "Don't think on it too much Fliss. I know it must feel shitty for you but he'll be fine. That I can promise you."

She took a deep breath and pulled back to look at him, and he gently brushed his lips against hers, the hand that was on her back stopping in the middle of the spine, holding her to him. She arched an eyebrow and gave a little smirk before he shrugged and kissed her lazily. She took the kiss eagerly, allowing him to slowly ease her over onto her back, caging her underneath his body as his mouth moved to her jawline then her neck. She gave a soft sigh, her hands sliding into his sleep-messed hair and he’d just moved his mouth downwards, softly nipping at her chest through her top when, with his ever perfect timing, Alex let out a little whine.

“For fucks sake…” Frank grumbled, his head falling to the valley of Fliss’ chest as she chuckled, swatting at his head. With a sigh he propped himself up and dropped a kiss to her lips. “I’ll get him sorted.” he said. “You take a while, lay in.”

Fliss looked down at her boobs and then shrugged “Well seeing as he fed 3 times over night they’re not that swollen so…” Frank gave a snort as she looked at him, arching her eyebrows “Hey, the struggle is real, ok?"

“I didn’t suggest otherwise.” He said, hopping out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweats, yanking at the crotch as they felt a little tight thanks to the fact he was still aroused, and a T-shirt as Fliss leaned over, gently rubbing Alex’s tummy. “Hey…” he said, picking his son up, gently placing a large hand on his back “If you’re swapping over to formula, does that mean Ben and Jerry are gonna go smaller?” he nodded at her chest “Because if so I may be forced to reconsider my stance on the situation.”

“If you didn’t have hold of our son I’d punch you.” Fliss glared and he gave a chuckle before he headed out of the room.

“Couldn’t you have slept for like 15 minutes longer this morning buddy?” he questioned gently as he entered the nursery, placing Alex down on the changing mat. “You totally cock blocked me. Which, for the record, is not cool.”

Alex looked at him, blinking slowly.

“Yeah, you might look like that.” Frank deadpanned, as Alex’s hands curled around his fingers. His little legs wiggled a little and Frank bent down with his mouth arranged in an open smile, causing Alex’s face to split into a little grin, his arms and legs waggling even faster. “Yeah, ok, I forgive you.” Frank chuckled before he changed him into a clean diaper and then padded downstairs to warm his bottle up, juggling his son easily in one arm as he did so.

By now Alex’s fairly decent mood had started to wane as he was hungry. The noises he made were getting louder and slightly more impatient, threatening to turn into an out and out cry.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s coming pal…” Frank said, dropping a gentle kiss to the downy hair on Alex’s head “I know, you’re hungry...despite the fact you had midnight, 1.30 am and 4am snack…”

He settled on the sofa, flicked on the TV for the morning news, positioned Alex and gave him his bottle, watching with a soft smile on his face as the baby’s cheeks worked hungrily taking the mix of breast and formula. They’d started this just a few days or so ago after Fliss had simply been unable to stop him crying from hunger Tuesday afternoon and called her mom in a flap. She’d suggested doing what Steve and Sian had had to do with the twins, seeing as both of those had been greedy little bastards too so after a call to the Paediatrician, Fliss had reluctantly agreed. He did sympathise with her, and he’d been waiting for the inevitable tears which had finally come that morning, but it would be much easier for her in the long run all things considered, especially if as the doctor had suggested she could move to formula fully bar a morning feed.

Supporting Alex in one arm, he absentmindedly watched the anchor and co-anchor on the breakfast show interviewing someone about a Thanksgiving tradition or something, he wasn’t really paying much attention if he was honest. It freaked him out how fast it was creeping up on them. Soon it would be fucking Christmas. Thankfully, Fliss seemed to be on top of it mostly. They were hosting a small Thanksgiving with his mother then heading over to Verity and Bill’s for the usual party, and for Christmas Steve, Sian and the boys were over so they were spending the day at Verity and Bill’s along with Roberta and his mother…which was always fun. It never ceased to amaze him how welcoming Fliss’ family had been to his own fucked up version of one.

Lost in his thoughts, he was jerked from them by a little popping noise and he looked down to see Alex had moved away from the bottle, and to his astonishment there was a small amount left.

“Finally full up buddy?” he asked, offering it him back but the baby turned his head away un interested “Guess so.” Frank said, placing the bottle on the coffee table and moving Alex so he was leaning against his chest, head on his shoulder as he burped him. It took a little while but eventually he obliged and Frank chuckled, turning his head to look at him, bright blue eyes staring around the room. He was developing so fast now, it was ridiculous.

“Shall we go wake your sister up?” he asked softly, “Yeah, ok…”

Thankfully, Mary was actually pretty co-operative most mornings, and today being one of her university split days she was in a good mood, rabbiting on to Frank about the assignment she had done. They ate breakfast before she headed off upstairs to get changed and once she was back, he told her to watch Alex for a second whilst he made his way into the bedroom with a plate of toast and a coffee for Fliss, knowing full well she wouldn’t be asleep. And sure enough, she lay on her back, watching the TV. She beamed at him as she shuffled herself up, taking the mug off him as he placed the plate on the night stand and perched on the side of the bed.

“Where’s Bean?” she asked.

“Mary’s watching him for a second so I could bring you that.”

“Thank you.” She smiled, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’ll take him with me when I drop Mary off. He likes the truck. I might pop into the shop for 20 minutes or so, the guys haven’t seen him in a while and I like showing him off.” Frank smiled a little bashfully and Fliss’ smile grew even larger. “Imma dress him in his Made In Boston T-shirt…”

Fliss chuckled “I still can’t believe Bonnie and Simon got him that.” “Oh, I can.” Frank nodded “In fact, that’s quite tame for what I expected from Si to be honest.” “Yeah, that’s true…” Fliss conceded “Oh, don’t forget, I’m teaching at 2 for an hour.” “I’ll be well back before then.” Frank snorted, “It’s not even 8 yet.” “I know I was just pointing out you can have some more male bonding time then too.” “Great, maybe I’ll introduce him to Debbie Does Dallas…” Frank teased and Fliss snorted

“Well, we know he likes boobs so…”

Frank gave a laugh before he leaned over and gave her another soft kiss. “I’ll get him dressed and then we’re heading out so I’ll see you in a little while. Love you.” “Love you too.” She smiled, as he bumped his nose against hers and left.

*****

Once he’d dropped Mary off and walked her into her lecture hall where he handed her over to her tutor, he headed back out to the truck, clipping the car seat back in place. He dropped into work, where as predicted the guys on the team all came to say hi, commenting on how big he was compared to last time they’d seen him. He double checked a couple of the rotas for Monday before he headed home, getting back just after 11, by which point Alex was fast asleep. He entered the house, greeting Thor who came bounding down the stairs to check who’d dared to walk into his home.

“Just me buddy.” He said, patting the large dog’s head before he headed upstairs knowing full well that if Thor had been upstairs that meant Fliss was too. And sure enough, he opened the door to their bedroom and heard the shower in the en-suite going. Fred opened his eye and looked at Frank from where he had been lounging on their bed, his tail swishing slightly before he returned to his cat nap, not even bothering to move.

With a snort at the cat’s blatant lack of any fucks to give, Frank placed the car seat on the dresser, smoothing back Alex’s hair as he continued to sleep and then realised that this was a prime opportunity for finishing what he started this morning. With a dirty smirk to himself he opened the door to the bathroom. Fliss’ head was tipped back, face turned to the stream of water, suds cascading from her long hair down her body which instantly had him half hard in the constraints of his sweats.

Yup, Frank Adler was a big fan of getting dirty in the shower.

“Room for another?” he asked, cheekily, pulling off his T-shirt. Fliss jumped a little as she hadn’t heard him come in and then turned to look at him through the shower screen, most of her body obscured by the frosted glass pattern. She grinned and raised her hand, making a beckoning motion with her fingers. In a flash he shed the remainder of his clothing and stepped into the large cubicle with her, his hands reaching out for her hips, pulling her towards him, so her back was pressed to his chest.

“I believe we have unfinished business Miss Gallagher.” He said, feeling her slick skin pressing against his as he nipped at her neck.

“Really?” she pondered, “I don’t recall…”

“No?” he teased, his lips placing another kiss to her wet skin, “Maybe this will jog your memory…”

His hands slid up, tracing the curve of her waist before he gently cupped her breasts, calloused thumbs skating over the nipples. With a reaction that was automatic, she let out a soft sigh as he gently teased her, his palms and fingers working their magic, all the time taking care not to be too rough as he knew she was sensitive. But in the end it was Fliss demanding he go harder as she arched her back, pushing herself into his hands as she felt the aching brewing between her legs. She went to squeeze them closed, anything to help relieve the pressure that was building and she felt Frank’s lips smirk against her neck, one of his hands brushing down her body, slipping between her folds, right where she needed him most.

“Fuck…” she swore, as he gently played her, slow, teasing strokes and before long she was rocking against his hand, seeking friction as she was spiralling higher and higher, Frank’s rock hard dick pressing into the lower part of her back.

“Turn around…” Frank said into her ear and she did as she was told, greeting his lips in a filthy kiss as he pivoted her round so that her back was pressed to the wall of the shower cubicle. His mouth moved from hers to her jawline, the whiskers of his beard gently sliding over her skin as he dipped his head to kiss her collar bone before he rather gracefully dropped to his knees. He glanced up at her, deep brown met ocean blue, her eyes full with a heady combination of love, desire and lust and it drew a low growl from his throat as he reached down for her left ankle. With a steady hand Frank lifted it over his right shoulder and gently kissed and sucked his way up her leg, leaving a nip at the apex of her thigh. She moaned loudly, her head falling back against the tiles as he moved to where she wanted him the most, his tongue long and flat against her centre as he lapped at her entrance all the way up to her sensitive bud. Her body jolted as she let out a soft sigh of his name which was laced with satisfaction as he set his mouth to work.

As Frank devoured her with the enthusiasm of a man starved, Fliss curled her fingers into his damp hair, the movement a reflex as the other slapped flat against the grey slate tiles. The contrast of his short beard scratching at her sensitive skin to his soft tongue and mouth was sending her body into overdrive. He gently grazed her bud with his teeth which caused her hips to violently buck forward, her nails dug into his scalp and he gave a chuckle which vibrated against her clit causing her to groan loudly.

“Jesus Christ Frank…” she panted, looking down at him. He peeked up from between her legs, a cheeky glint in his eyes as he continued, his tongue flicking into her entrance, before he sucked on her bud and then she was gone. Her knees trembled as her hand pulled his hair, almost to the point it was painful as she gave a loud cry, her other hand reaching to his head as she used both to push him away from her sensitive sex as she clamped down around thin air. With a smug sense of satisfaction at having undone her to the extent he had, Frank rose to his feet, wiping his wet face with an equally wet forearm and he cupped her cheeks, kissing her again, his tongue tangling against hers.

Fliss’ wrecked brain had barely registered his mouth was on hers when he pulled back slightly, his lips hovering over hers as the water cascaded down on them both. “Turn back around…”he whispered softly, and she did as she was told. Frank gently moved his hands to her hips, pulling her back, nudging her ankles with his feet to open her up a little more. With one palm on the base of her back he gently bent her forward ever so slightly, took his throbbing cock in his hand and lined himself up. With a gentle, slow movement he slipped inside, burying himself in her heat, the rumble from his throat slipping out of his mouth at the relief of finally being inside her. Once he was fully sheathed his hands moved, one to her stomach, holding her in place, the other up to her breasts as she arched her back, her head back against his shoulder as he drove in and out of her, slowly, deliberately. Her right hand moved back to grab at his thigh, her fingertips digging into the hard muscle as he thrust forward, the other hand flat reached back to tangle in his hair.

“God you feel so good baby…” he groaned, his mouth licking a stripe up the side of her neck as her head lolled to the right, tracing her wet skin up to her jaw line, “So fahkin’ good…”

The hand that had been on her belly moved to grasp her chin with his finger and thumb, tipping her face round to his so he could kiss her. It was all Fliss could do to kiss him back, allowing him to control the pace as she was completely gone, the sensations lancing through her body had left her totally pliant to his ministrations, and he fucking adored the fact she surrendered to him, that she felt safe enough to do so.

“Frankie…” she panted softly as he continued to push into her, driving deep, and she gave a squeak as he rotated his hips, his fingers letting go of her face to slide down her body, between her legs and she gave a long wail of delight as he fondled her bud, “Shit…I’m…”

“Go one, come for me baby…” he nipped at her ear “I got you, I promise…��

With a last, silent moan she came, hard, her knees almost buckling, but Frank held her to him as she blissed out completely, the entire world fading around her as she felt nothing but the familiar hot, warm pleasure as her abdomen contracted and relaxed as her walls spasmed around him over and over.

“Good girl…” he praised as he continued thrusting through, the heat in his own belly now beginning to spike even more, “Such a good girl for me…”

She preened at his praise, relaxing slightly into his hold as he kissed her neck once more, picking up the pace slightly. She reached back with one hand to cup his balls and with an almost violent buck forward he came, biting down gently on her shoulder, muffling the noises of satisfaction and pleasure that rolled from the back of his throat.

His hips stilled and neither of them moved, his hands gently flexing on her hips before he gave a soft chuckle of satisfaction and he pulled out of her, taking care to keep her as close to him as he could. Her head lolled back against his shoulder and she turned her head, greeting his lips in a soft, gentle kiss and he smiled as she pulled away, rubbing her nose against his.

“You should take the day off more often” she quipped and Frank could do nothing but laugh.

“I fahkin’ love you.” He chuckled and she grinned, giving a shrug.

“I’m a very lovable person.”

“That you are cowgirl.” He nodded, “That you are.”

*****

“Felicity Rose Gallagher, if you ask me one more time if we are sure we’re going to be ok I’m gonna go mad.” Verity glared at Fliss who had just asked the question for the umpteenth time since her parents had turned up for babysitting duty.

Fliss gave a groan and held her hands up. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“You’ve left him with us before, this is no different.” Verity looked at her “No go, go on, scoot.”

Over Fliss’ shoulder, Frank shot Verity a wink as he dropped his hand to the curve of his girl’s lower back.

“Come on Lissy, we’ll be late otherwise.”

“Yeah, and I wanna get back to eat.” Bill said, twirling his car keys.

“Maybe I should drive?” Fliss looked at Frank who took a deep breath as Verity made an annoyed noise in her throat.

“If you want to drive, then that’s up to you.” Frank said simply as she bit her lip. “Be a shame though, I was gonna treat you to that champagne you demanded…maybe not quite a swimming pool full but…”

Fliss looked at him for a second before she shook her head “I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologising.” He chuckled softly “Baby what do you want to do?”

She glanced at Alex who was led in Verity’s arms, happily grinning up at his Nanna before she turned to Frank. “No, you’re right. We haven’t been out for months so…”she nodded. “Let’s go.” “Halle-fuckin-lujah.” Bill mumbled, earning himself a glare from Fliss. “V, I’ll grab us some take-out on the way back.”

“Bye baby…” Fliss crossed the room to drop a kiss on Alex’s head and then turned, taking Frank’s outstretched hand. “We won’t be too late…” she tossed over her shoulder at her mum. Verity shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, we’re staying so be as late as you want.”

Fliss nodded and Frank squeezed his hand around hers as they left the room, not before he threw a smile at Verity who gave him a knowing one back. Fliss had been fine all week with the principle of going out…right up until she had gotten out of her second shower of the day that evening, when she’d suddenly had an attack of conscience about leaving him with her parents whilst she went out drinking. Frank was sharp enough to know full well this was linked to her current feelings of inadequacy, and he also knew that no matter what he said or did, there was nothing he could do to stop that bar be there for her and give her the reassurance that she needed.

That and simply love her, which was a given, because he did with every single breath he took.

“You look gorgeous.” He said to her gently as they walked to her dad’s car. She smiled and glanced down at the dark blue peplum top she was wearing, coupled with faded jeans and a white denim jacket. She’d been over the moon to find out she could fit back in those jeans so he wasn’t surprised she’d chosen them for the evening. On her feet she wore a simple pair of yellow heeled pumps, complete with matching bag. Her hair was down in loose waves, and her make-up was simple, a light dusting of rose gold powder on her lids.

“Thanks.” She said, before she eyed him up and down and he grinned as he knew full well what she was thinking, given that he was dressed in his yellow and black palm-tree Hawaiian print shirt.

“You said my shit shits were endearing.” He said and she gave a laugh, shrugging.

“You wouldn’t be Frank without them.” She smiled and he grinned.

Fliss declined the front seat when Frank offered it to her, instead climbing into the back behind her dad taking the time to check up on a few emails and the yard’s social media accounts. The three of them made easy chat on the way into St Pete’s and they thanked Bill for the lift as they both climbed out. Fliss instructed her dad to call them if there was any problems and he simply rolled his eyes and told her to “piss off and have a good time”.

They’d picked to go to Rios for dinner before they were heading down to Ferg’s to meet up with the others a little later on. It had become a little bit of a running joke between Bonnie and Fliss that, as much of a dive as Ferg’s was, frankly the two women preferred it to any of the bars they frequented. It was casual, fun, they knew a hell of a lot of people in there including most of the bar staff, and it held good memories. It suited both Frank and Simon down to the ground, both of them happy to tease their girls about having simple taste until Fliss normally quipped back along the lines of that being the reason she was marrying Frank in the first place. But when he pushed all jokes aside, he was glad she was so down to Earth. He had nothing against Greg or Jake’s wives but man, they were high maintenance.

But not his Lissy.

As it was still early and they wanted to chill out, they had opted to eat in the more casual outside lounge area which sported the roof bar and offered an all evening Tapas style menu, not the full a la carte main restaurant menu. As such they were led through to their table on the veranda. Neither of them had been into this part since the refurb, the last time Fliss came it hadn’t been finished but now, she felt a smile cross her face as she looked around. It was cosy and casual, right up her street. The tables were slightly lower than normal and appeared to all be different shapes and sizes, made out of driftwood and pallets. They were decked with large candles held in jars in the middle and surrounded by comfy chairs and bean bags all of which sported blankets given that the time of year meant sometimes in the evening it could be quite chilly at night. In the middle of the veranda was a large stone fire pit which was covered by an ornamental, wrought iron cage that spiralled to a point some 8 foot off the ground, and the bar stood to the rear right hand corner with a few people sat down enjoying a drink.

“Oh my God, I love it.” Fliss muttered to Frank and he looked down at her, nodding.

“This is pretty cool” he conceded.

“The tables and seats…it’s just how I pictured our wedding.” She said as they were led over to their spot at the rear, which was just by the glass barrier of the roof, over-looking the beach and the ocean.

“Yeah?” Frank asked, looking at her.

She nodded “Rustic, causal, bean bags, blankets…that type of thing…although it won’t be that cold then…”

“If you want blankets, baby, you can have blankets.” He chuckled kissing her forehead as they settled down onto the comfy plush seats which to Fliss’ delight were also bean bags just shaped differently. The teenage kid who had shown them to their table soon returned with the menus and informed them that as it was the first week they’d opened the terrace, with every bottle of wine purchased, there was complementary charcuterie tasting platter included. Fliss’ eyes lit up and Frank knew why, it was probably her favourite thing to eat in the world and he had to admit, she did a pretty wicked board herself when they were entertaining. With that in mind, he ordered them a bottle of Pinot Grigio and they sat back, Frank’s arm dropping over Fliss’ shoulders as she looked around.

“You know, if this is the type of thing you want, why not take a few photos and then we can start looking around.” Frank suggested and Fliss looked at him, smiling. “You can give Bobbi a call. I know you want to organise it yourself but she’ll probably have a list of suppliers, caterers, that sorta stuff for you to look at.” “I already know what I want for catering.” Fliss looked at him.

“You do?” Frank asked.

“Yup. I want food trucks. Mexican and Pizza.”

Frank cocked his head to one side, smiling as he looked at her “That’s actually a fucking brilliant idea.”

“No fancy sit down meal, if it stays for a couple of hours then people can grab what they want when they want.”

“Love it.” Frank grinned, looking up as their waiter appeared with their bottle of wine. He poured them both a glass and set the ice bucket in the middle of the table, before he disappeared again. Frank picked his glass up and Fliss did the same, the pair of them gently clinking them together, smiling. “To our first date in…what? 4 months?” Frank teased and Fliss shrugged.

“I don’t know, I lost track of time…been kinda busy.” She teased as Frank chuckled, leaning down to give her a soft kiss.

Their charcuterie board arrived not long after and they then placed their order, opting for the Chef’s Selection, a number of small tapas dishes which as the name suggested, would be selected by the chef for them. Fliss had liked the idea of it all being rather mysterious and as the waiter had asked what kind of thing they liked they’d both listed a few things and he’d nodded, heading away with their order.

Frank reached over for the wine bottle to top Fliss’ glass up and she thanked him, taking another sip, before he saw her bite her lip and she reached into her purse.

“Congratulations.” He said dryly, teasing her a little as she turned to him. He nodded to the phone “You made it like 45 minutes since we walked out of the door without checking up on him.” “I wasn’t…” she began to protest and he gave her a look and she groaned, tossing her phone back in her purse “Ok, fine…maybe I was.” “Honey, he’ll be ok.” Frank said gently, his hand on her knee “You’re mom and dad did this all before remember?”

“I know, I know…” she said, before she reached over for an olive and popped it in her mouth.

Frank then diverted the subject, got her talking about her afternoon teaching and she animatedly filled him in on how nice it had been to get back to seeing some of her clients. The conversation was easy, fun, they laughed and giggled away and a little over half an hour later when their food arrived they’d worked though their first bottle of wine and Frank then ordered them a bottle of Veuve Clicquot Brut, just as he’d promised.

The food was amazing, Frank couldn’t fault a single thing about it, other than maybe it was a little too good as his jeans definitely felt a little tighter around the waist when they finished their meal because despite the fact he was full he just couldn’t stop eating. As the waiter came to clean the empty dishes away, Fliss then heard her phone going. Reaching into her purse she read the message and smiled before she turned the phone to Frank. It was a picture of Alex, fast asleep against Bill’s chest as he sat in their lounge.

“See.” Frank smile “He’s happy as a pig in shit.” “Frank!” Fliss scoffed, slapping his arm, “Don’t call our baby a pig.” “I was talking about your dad.”

“Oh…I’m so telling him you said that.” She said as they both laughed and she shook her head “You’re a bad man.”

“You love it honey.” He teased and she grinned.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” She leaned over, pressing her lips to his in a soft kiss. She glanced down at her phone and smiled again before she put it away “We did good though. We made a pretty cute baby.” “Good genes.” Frank boasted and Fliss laughed and he smiled at her, brushing her hair back behind her ear before he rest his arm along the back of the soft chair she was in. “Ever think you’ll fancy another?”

“Another baby?” Fliss asked and Frank nodded. “Fuck no.” she spluttered and Frank let out a loud laugh. “I mean I wouldn’t change any of this for the world but, well, he wasn’t exactly on my life plan…”

“Good, because I don’t want one either.” He said in between his chuckles as he reached for his champagne flute.

“Well, you know…” Fliss said, mimicking him and picking hers up “There is one way we could make sure it doesn’t happen again…” she moved the hand that wasn’t holding her drink and mimed a pair of scissors snipping the air. Frank choked on his drink, spluttering slightly as the bubbles threatened to fizz down his nose. Fliss roared with laughter as he wiped at his shirt and glared at her.

“Absolutely no way in hell.”

“Why not?” she shrugged.

“Because…well, just no!” he said, grimacing, “I couldn’t do that to Little Frank.” “Little Frank…jesus…I can’t…” Fliss’ laughter grew even louder and the familiar snorting that happened when she was laughing beyond control started, which set Frank off again. She clamped her hand over her mouth, slapping his arm and looked away from him, trying to control herself. Eventually they managed to stop and Frank shook his head, composing himself before he asked for the check.

*****

They hit a cab down to Ferg’s and Fliss squealed when she saw Bonnie, sweeping her up into a huge hug before examining her ring up close whilst Frank shook Simon’s hand, pulling him into a bro hug, slapping his back. They were joined shortly afterwards by the rest of the gang, and when Simon and Bonnie broke their news to everyone there were more loud cheers and a shout of “shots all round” from Jake. Frank kept a careful eye on Fliss, who was already flushed from what they’d drunk over dinner, especially seeing as she hadn’t had a proper drink in over a year now. She downed 2 tequilas and then shook her head when someone asked her if she wanted another, instead requesting a water.

The gang moved to their preferred spot over at one of the tables at the back, round the corner away from the bar area, and they had a good hour or so catch up before the boys wanted to shoot some pool. Together they made their way over to the games area, the girls settling at one of the tall tables by the side.

“So how is the little one?” Greg turned to Frank as Simon and Jake racked the pool balls up, and he beamed in response.

“Ah Greg, he’s fahkin’ awesome.” Frank gushed “I just…he’s great, really great. Other than being a little cock block that is.” Greg snorted “Yeah I hate to break it to you, but that only gets worse as they get older…especially when they learn how to climb out of their crib and come to your room.” “Imma get a lock on the door.” Frank stated simply and Greg laughed as they grabbed a cue each, chalking the end.

They shot one game and then Frank said it was his round, so he headed off to the bar. He nodded to Dave, asking for the same again plus another bottle of water for Fliss and as he headed off to get their drinks, the young woman on the seat next to Frank jumped down from the stool next to him. Frank fished in his pocket for his wallet, pausing as he heard a little yelp and he turned his head to the right to see the guy sat two stools down had his arm curled around the young woman’s upper arm. She tried to get free but the guy’s grip tightened and Frank felt a spike of anger in his chest. All he could see in his mind was Fliss and that bastard ex-husband of hers hurting her. And he knew then he couldn’t, and didn’t want to, let this go.

“We’re not done yet.” The guy said loudly, a sneer on his face as he looked at the girl. Frank quickly stepped up behind her, and he looked at the guy and shook his head.

“Yes, you are.” He said, drawing himself up to full height, shoulders tensing, his eyes not once leaving the douchebag in front of him as he kept his voice calm and level “Let the lady go, man.”

“Mind your business, dick head.”

“It became my business when the whole bar could hear your conversation.” Frank retorted, his tone still calm. “Let her go. Now.”

After a second or so, albeit reluctantly, the asshole did loosen his grip so that the young girl could remove her arm from his hand meaning she could get out of the way. She headed down to the far end of the bar, Frank watching her for a second before he turned back to the man in front of him who was now wobbling to his feet, his fist clenching by his side.

Frank snorted to himself. Was this asshole really going to go there? Sure, the inebriated piece of shit was built, he probably had a good 20 pounds on him, but Frank himself was no push over. He was in decent shape, he knew that, and given his chances against someone who was struggling to stand up straight, well, he’d take them.

“What are you, some kinda knight in shining armor?” the guy snorted. “Fuck you, man!”

Before Frank had time for a rebuttal, asshole had made a run for him and Frank almost lazily sidestepped as the drunk swung a punch at him. Not being able to stop, Mr Drunk asshole pitched forward and smacked into a chair, catching his head on the adjacent table-top. He groaned out in pain as he held his head on the ground.

“Jeff! What the hell is going on?”

Frank looked up to see a group of guys heading back in from the outside of the patio and for the first time he felt a little nervous. He looked around, and to his relief he saw Simon and Jake approaching.

“Get him outta here!” Dave said loudly “Your friend is drunk and startin’ fights in my bar. Get the fuck out before I call the cops.”

The guys were fast to act, quickly shuffling ‘Jeff’ out and cursing at him for ruining their night.

“Fucking prick…” Dave shook his head, before he looked at Frank. “Nice going man, this rounds on the house.” “Thanks Dave…” Frank smiled at him.

“Hey bud, you ok?” Simon clapped Frank on the shoulder as Jake eyed the guys leaving “What the fuck?” “Oh he was hassling some girl.” Frank said, shaking his head, “She was petrified.” “What a dick.” Jake mumbled, turning back to him. “She ok?” “Not sure…” Frank said, looking round the bar as Dave placed the tray of drinks down in front of him. He didn’t know whether she had stayed or scarpered but he soon spotted her. She was sat on a chair, her arms over her stomach at the opposite end of the bar. Frank felt a pang of sympathy for her, she was clearly here on her own for whatever reason. “Do me a favour and take the drinks back to the tables will you?” he said to Jake and Simon, before he strode over, stopping besides her.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked her gently.

“Yeah, thanks to you. Thank you for helping me. You’re like my hero.” she let out a nervous laugh as a pink blush settled on her cheeks.

“You’re welcome but I was just doing what any person would do.” Frank smiled, a little embarrassed at the compliment. “My name’s Frank, by the way. You want some water?”

She offered her name and nodded. Frank turned to Dave “Hey man, can she get a water”?

“Sure.” Dave nodded, reaching into the fridge for a bottle. He passed it over and she took it with a thanks, taking a slow sip before she set the bottle down and looked back at Frank.

“So, Frank. Is there any way I could thank you for your bravery? Maybe treat you to a coffee sometime?” at that she reached forward and put her hand on top of his forearm gently, looking at him expectantly.

Shit. Not another fucking Vegas.

As gently as he could he moved his arm away, coughing a little as he shook his head. “I… uh, thank you for the offer, but not sure my fiancée would appreciate that.”

“Oh, god. I’m sorry.” She blushed again and pulled her hand away.

He smiled kindly at her, but before he could assure her not to worry about it he heard Fliss shouting. “Frank!”

He turned to see her walking towards him, a worried expression on her face. “Are you okay?” “Yeah Lissy, I’m fine.” He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him, kissing her temple lightly.

“What happened?” she asked, searching his eyes “Jake and Simon mentioned there’d been a fight and…” “Just some drunken asshole harassing this lady.” He said, nodding to the woman. “I stepped in that’s all. He didn’t hit me, don’t worry.”

Fliss looked at him, then to the woman and back again as Frank introduced her. The young woman reached out and shook Fliss hand as Frank’s arm dropped to her back, gently brushing underneath her top.

"Well, I think I’ve had enough ‘fun’ for the night.” The girl laughed dryly. “I’m gonna head out. Thank you again, Frank. It was nice meeting you Fliss. You’ve got quite a guy."

Fliss looked at Frank whose cheeks had flushed slightly and she nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I do. Take care.”

They stood watching her leave before Fliss turned to Frank, her hands sliding up his chest “Like a regular real life Captain America ain’t you? Standing up for the little guy.”

Frank rolled his eyes “Your Marvel obsession is ridiculous.”

She shrugged as he dropped a kiss to her lips before they headed back over to join their friends.

***** An hour or so later Fliss was ready to go home, her feet hurt, her boobs hurt and she was quite drunk. She leaned over to Frank who was sat next to her, her hand curling round his thigh and he turned to her.

“You ok sweetheart?”

“No, I mean yeah, I mean…” she sighed “I’m ready to go home, do you mind?” “Course not.” He smiled, giving a little chuckle “I’ll get us an Uber ok?”

He reached for his phone, ordered the car and to Fliss’ relief there was one literally round the corner. They stood up, bid their friends good night sharing a few hugs and the like before Frank looped an arm round Fliss’ shoulders, hers slinking around his waist as they walked slowly out of the bar. Frank could tell she was a little unsteady on her feet and he smiled to himself, pleased she’d let go enough to enjoy herself.

Carefully he made sure she got down the steps ok and they walked along the little path that led down to the front of the row of bars that Ferg’s was at the end of. As they emerged onto the road area, waiting for their cab Frank heard a shout.

“Oi..”

He wheeled round and saw the asshole from the bar, Jeff, stumbling towards him as his friends hastily followed, shouting at him to leave it alone.

“Fuck…” Frank mumbled, “Fliss, move honey, quick…” She looked up at him, then to the guy approaching, and he felt her tense. He stepped forward, his arm stretched out to the side, ready to push her behind him but in a flash she ducked under it and before he could stop her she’d raised her fist and smashed it straight into the approaching guy’s face. Her punch connected with a satisfying crack and he dropped like a stone to the floor, clutching his nose which was billowing blood.

His friends appeared once more, apologising profoundly as they hoisted him to his feet, he was groaning and clutching at his face, as they led him away.

“Lissy…” Frank’s voice was a mixture of shock and awe as she turned to him, shaking out her fist.

“Sorry, oh my God that was so bad…” she mumbled, “Was that bad? Are you angry?”

“Angry?” he looked at her, shaking his head “No. Why would- what- where the fuck did you learn to punch like that?”

“Steve.” She shrugged “Haven’t done it in a while…”

Frank blinked as their Uber pulled up and she made her way towards it. He shook himself out of his shocked stance and strode forward, opening the car door for her. He stopped it halfway, causing her to look at him and he dropped his head, his lips brushing her ear. “Baby, I just want you to know that I’m all sorts of turned on right now…”

She looked up at him and her lips quirked up at the side into a cheeky grin. “Best hope this guy doesn’t take the long way home then…” Frank gave a little growl as she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. He opened the door fully, to allow her to climb into the back seat, before he hastily followed her in. As the driver set off, Frank leaned forward between the front seats, which wasn’t exactly easy given the bulge in the front of his jeans and he nodded to the driver.

“Extra 5 bucks in it for you pal, if you make it quick…”

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic

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moskaisley · 4 years

Text

thin walls

gif cred: @mrpascals

rating: NC-17 lol

word count: 3.1k

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT!! 18+ !! graphic depictions of sex, auralism, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, dumb oblivious clownery, a lil pining, a smidge of angst at the end u know me

a/n:

this is a side story for my ongoing series “migraine” !!

i NEEDED to write something fun since the last part of migraine was so angsty. i really wanted to just explore them having fun together and being bros!!! just vibin!!! being young and dumb!!! and ofc their obvious sexual tension before migraine girl and mando started their romantic relationship. idk when part 5 will be out since i have finals next week, but i definitely dont want to wait a month to post it LOL

for now, enjoy this fun and sexy romcom bullshit

summary:

“You’re the worst wingman ever,” You tease as you kick his calf lightly.

He kicks you back, “Look, the night isn’t over yet. I bet I can get at least one of these people to talk to you.”

You ponder over his challenge for a moment, and then shoot him a mischievous grin. Reaching into a pouch on your belt, you slap some credits onto the table.

“Spoils go to the winner,” you say with a smile, “You have one shot. Blow it and we both go home, casanova.”

ao3 link

A rough shove from behind nearly had you on your ass in the middle of the firefight. A blaster shot whizzes by your head, nearly clipping you as you struggle to maintain your balance. Another shot goes off, and you hear a body crumple to the ground. You snarl as you bring your elbow around, only for it to be caught by a strong hand.

“Easy!” Qin’s voice echoes in your ears, “A ‘thanks’ would be nice.”

You scoff, roughly tearing your arm from his grip, “I nearly sliced you in half, crazy bastard.”

“Oi, don’t get all riled up, sweetheart. If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead.”

“I’m not your fuckin’ sweetheart, Qin.”

He grunts, waving you off in annoyance. Rolling your eyes, you turn around to proceed forward, ready to berate your beskar clad partner for not watching your back. Yet, to your frustration, The Mandalorian is already far down the hallway, Xi’an bouncing in tow.

You’re not jealous.

You say it to yourself when you wordlessly slip away from your coworkers upon returning to one of Ran’s hangars, ignoring their confused looks and the “Oh Mando, you’re so in trouble” from Vidar. You say it to yourself when you lazily bonk your head against the shower wall in frustration, and you nearly scream it when you hear Xi’an’s breathy giggles from his bunk.

This had been going on for weeks now.

A scrap sheet of durasteel could probably muffle more sound than the current wall you shared with the Mandalorian. And while for the most part, he was a respectful neighbor, it was times like these that you wished you could throw yourself into dead space. The first time you confronted him about the noise, it was almost cute at how awkward he was in apologizing to you. That night, amidst the wanton moans and cries of ecstasy coming from next door, you kept hearing him shush the Twi’lek in that gentle, gravelly voice of his. Even then, every noise still drifted into your bunk, but you decided to be merciful and save him any more embarrassment by keeping quiet. (You made a note in your head, though. He so owes you for this.) Instead, you picked up an old busted radio from the market, fixing it up and tuning in during crises like these. It only connected to one station, but you’d take Val Syko’s Quenk Jazz Jams over the sounds of your partner’s pleasure any day.

But tonight, drowning in the funky sounds of Val’s extensive music collection wasn’t doing it for you. Mando’s groan echoes dully off the walls of your room, and your thighs instinctually press together in an attempt to quell the warmth pooling at your core. You press your fingers to the bridge of your nose. It was unfair, really. Mando was getting action at least once a week, yet your pool kept coming up empty, and you refused to fuck around with any of your current colleagues. Sighing, you check your watch; the night is still young and therefore, incredibly long. Your eyes dart over to your tiny closet, pursing your lips together in apprehension. Another one of Xi’an’s moans rings in your ears.

You know what? Fuck it.

It’s almost comical how the ship falls into abrupt silence when you knock on his door.

“I’m going out,” you say quickly before he could open the door. Silence follows and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t wait up. I’ll be late.”

You’re not sure why you thought your luck would change tonight.

You were nursing your second drink, lazily twisting the straw in the glass and scanning around the cantina for anyone who could catch your eye. On your first round, there was a cute redhead who gave you a sweet compliment on your outfit, but your hope died when she slipped into a booth next to her boyfriend on the other side of the room. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, letting your head drop as you squeeze your eyes shut. This was a dumb idea. You’re gonna be listening to those two all night while Val plays that one song from Mooneyes for the thousandth kriffing time–

“Is this seat taken?”

You groan loudly at his stupid fucking modulated voice.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Mando slips into the stool next to you, leaning against the bar as he tilts his head.

“I wondered where you ran off to.”

“I can have my fun too, Mando.”

“Clearly,” he quips, gesturing to your lonely exasperated form, huddled over your drink.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?”

You shove him and he laughs, head shaking at how easy you are to tease. Rolling your eyes, you take a sip from your drink. He shuffles a little, subtly leaning to the right, visor skimming over your backside. You smirk, catching him in the act.

“Hey!” You snap your fingers in front of his helmet, “Eyes up here, tin can.”

Pushing your hand to the side, he takes the hem of it in between his fingers and says, “I didn’t know you had clothes like these.”

“What? This old thing?”

Though your lifestyle didn’t allow for a big wardrobe, there were a few times you would indulge yourself in some of the finer things. The dress was oxblood in color, made of soft velvet with a high neck and open back. It hugged your body snugly, ending just above your knees with a leg slit that traveled up your thigh. It took a decent chunk from your paycheck, and you were so compelled to buy it that you didn’t even consider where you’d wear it. But you loved the way it made you feel, and it was a lovely change of pace from the typical bounty hunter getup you often sported.

“It looks nice on you,” he tells you, nonchalantly.

You swallow hard as his gloved fingers brush against your thigh. Dizzying warmth washes over you. What the hell? Drunk already?

“Thanks.”

“What’s the occasion?” He asks you, releasing his hold on your dress.

You shoot him a sardonic smile as you raise your glass, as if you’re toasting.

“I’m taking applications for a new partner. My old one was too busy getting his dick wet and I almost got shot. Had to be saved by Qin, of all people.”

“I dunno, Qin could be a worthy candidate. He seems to be very friendly with you, too.”

“Are you insane? He’s a kriffing psychopath. Almost as crazy as your girlfriend.”

“Hey, she’s not–”

You cock your brows at him and smirk.

He playfully punches your arm as you take another sip.

“Alright, alright. I get it,” he says as you laugh at him, “Let me make it up to you. Are you trying to go home with someone tonight? I can be your wingman.”

You snort at the thought, “Yeah right. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mando but you’re not exactly the most approachable person. And besides, no one here is really catching my eye. I think I’m just gonna go.”

You’re moving to stand up and pay until he grabs your arm to keep you still.

“No, wait. C’mon, stay. Lets–Let’s just have some fun.”

You smile earnestly at him; Mando’s insistence to spend time with you genuinely warms your heart, so you lean back to your seat and flag down the bartender.

Though a second set of eyes helped in checking out people that you may have overlooked, it kind of defeated the purpose when that set of eyes was known for being one of the fiercest warriors throughout the galaxy. You thought you were able to catch the eye of a particularly dashing fighter pilot, exchanging flirty glances and a little wave. But the second he saw you in an exchange with a Mandalorian, he was quick to dash out the cantina without so much as saying a word to you. Mando kept insisting you both stay, denying that his intimidating armor had any effect on your chances of getting laid.

“Mando, I’m telling you this in the nicest way possible, but you’re scaring people off.”

“Maybe they just like what they see.”

“You’re the worst wingman ever,” You tease as you kick his calf lightly.

He kicks you back, “Look, the night isn’t over yet. I bet I can get at least one of these people to talk to you.”

You ponder over his challenge for a moment, and then shoot him a mischievous grin. Reaching into a pouch on your belt, you slap some credits onto the table.

“Spoils go to the winner,” you say with a smile, “You have one shot. Blow it and we both go home, casanova.”

Needless to say, he fails. Miserably.

The first person he goes up to must’ve been guilty of something. Because as soon as the Mandalorian stalks around the corner to his seat, the poor soul tosses his drink at him and dashes out the door. The metal man stands for a second in shock, and you see his shoulders slack as he lets out a defeated sigh. He rounds the bar back to you, Corellian rum dripping off his helmet and all over his beskar. Your stomach hurts trying to suppress the laughter building inside you, but you couldn’t help it. Your hand flies to your mouth as you snort loudly, laughing so hard that tears almost form in your eyes. You didn’t expect the night to go this way and your endeavors for a hookup had failed terribly, but it still made you happy to spend time with your friend all the same.

“That wasn’t fair. Let me try again.”

You struggle to form a response between your laughs, “No–no way! I–I can’t watch that again.”

“C’mon, I didn’t even get to try. Gimme another chance.”

You shake your head, taking your credits off the table and slipping them back into your pouch.

“Nope, rules are rules, Mando. Let’s just get outta here.”

“No way, I refuse to give up so–”

“She asked you to leave, buddy.”

You turn to look at the new voice, confused and a bit irritated for interrupting your exchange with Mando. You’re met with green eyes, strong shoulders, sexy scruff, olive skin, and a very dashing smile. Your retaliation dies in your throat, and your lips curl into a smile. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

Mando didn’t pick up on this though, “No, it’s not like that. We were just–”

“He was just going, actually. Right, Mando?” You look back at him and give him a wink, “I think I’ve had enough of you today.”

His helmet tilts upward in surprise, and then he chuckles lightly.

“Okay, then.”

He slides off his stool, gesturing to it for your new friend before walking out of the cantina. You watch Mando walk out the door, and the man takes over his seat.

“Was he bothering you?”

“No, actually,” You give him a sweet smile, “He’s a friend.”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Friends with a Mandalorian, eh? What’s that like?”

“Well, they make awful wingmen,” you joke.

“Is that so?”

“Why? Looking to take his place?”

“No, I’m here to buy you a drink.”

Catching your bottom lip with your teeth, you smile and your heart flutters.

“What’s your name?”

“Deo.”

He presses you up against the wall of the cantina outside, hands snaking up your waist and lips pressing hard against yours. Deo grabs and pulls at your flesh, slipping his tongue in your mouth and you moan against him. It’s been so long since you’ve felt someone this way, and it makes your skin sing in pleasure. When he pulls away, he keeps his forehead up against yours, breaths labored and heavy.

“So, mine or yours?”

A devious grin crosses your lips, “Mine.”

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

You take his hand into yours, clinging to his arm for balance. The drinks have finally caught up to you and there’s a pleasant buzz warming your body as you try your best not to stumble through the streets. As you make it back to the Razor Crest, you stop in front of the side gate, opening the hatch as Deo’s hand meets the small of your back. You pull him up into the loading dock, and he digs his face into your neck, biting at the skin as you press buttons on the door panel. When it shuts, he pushes you up against the wall of the ship, sucking at the skin beneath your jaw and grinding his pelvis up against your ass. You try to suppress a mewl, as you push off the wall and turn to him.

“Not here,” you whisper.

“Why not here?”

A muffled whimper comes from further away, and both of your heads abruptly turn to the source of the noise coming from behind Mando’s door.

Deo looks back to you, brows furrowed, “You sure this ship is yours, honey? Looks occupied.”

“Roommate. He won’t bother us, though.”

You shove him off of you and saunter over to your own bunk door. You turn around and beckon him to come with a single finger.

“C’mere.”

Your dress, along with Deo’s clothes, was left forgotten on the ground of your tiny room. He was quick to the draw, pulling your legs up so they wrapped around his hips and holding your ass for support. He pressed you up against the wall, pushing his cock inside you. You moan loudly, relishing in the feeling of his length filling up your pussy and the pressure of him crowding you against the metal.

And that’s when you realize–

Deo is fucking you up against the wall you share with Mando.

The mere thought of it makes you clench tighter around him and the smile on your face is downright devilish. Your partner can hear every lewd noise you make, just as you’d heard his, and it drove you crazy. Your body flushes with heat, wetness pooling at your core. Your arms pull Deo tighter against you, burying him deeper inside and mewling against his neck.

“Maker, you think he can hear you, honey?”

“Probably,” You let a breathy laugh against him, “Thin walls.”

A distinctly modulated groan echoes from behind you and you can’t suppress the grin that spreads along your lips.

Bastard.

You pull at the base of Deo’s neck, and guide his head to your chest. He nips and sucks at your collar bone, leaving another mark along your skin. Lifting a hand from your ass, he brings it to your breast, kneading it in his hands and running his thumb over your nipple. You whine as he begins to pinch it in between his fingers while he fucks up into you. Coincidentally, Mando’s moans reach your ears again only seconds later.

So we’re playing this game, are we?

You squeeze Deo’s shoulder, the knot in your lower belly getting tighter and tighter the more you focus on the noises coming from the next room over. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the image of your partner holding you like this, fucking you relentlessly against the wall you shared. You wonder if he looks anything like Deo; does he have the same green eyes? Or are they brown? What about his lips? How do they feel against yours? Your neck? Your cunt? You imagine that it’s his hands clutching and squeezing your soft flesh, his cock stretching you open, his stupid fucking voice whispering praises in your ear.

“F–Fuck! I’m gonna cum,” you panted, pressure building up inside you, aching for release.

You swore, you heard Mando’s breath hitch behind you.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum all over my cock.”

You nearly scream as you come undone around Deo, waves of pleasure washing over you. In your haze, a single thought crosses your mind: Mando was chasing his own release as well.

You know it, you feel it.

So you moan again.

“I had a good time tonight.”

“I did too.”

You hug your body tightly, the air of the hangar was cool against your skin, and you were clad in only a thin shirt and shorts. Deo is holding your upper arms, smiling softly at you as you shivered.

Brushing a strand of hair away from your face, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“We should do this again sometime,” he whispers against your skin, “Maybe, somewhere without your little roommate?”

You giggle, warmth heating up your cheeks.

“We’ll see.”

He bids you goodnight, and you walk back into the Crest, shutting the ramp behind you. You’re turning to go to bed when the sound of your partner’s door makes you freeze. The Mandalorian emerges, free of his beskar armor save for his helmet. He stops when he sees you, surprised by your presence at this hour. You stare at each other in silence for a few moments.

And then you snicker, and he does too.

A pleasant feeling blooms in your chest at the sound of his laugh. You take a few steps closer to him, letting your arms fall to your sides.

“So,” he begins in a low voice, “You didn’t hear any of that, right?”

“Hear what?” You ask him, innocently, “I was a little preoccupied.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

You hold a hand against your mouth and giggle.

“So,” he murmurs, “Who was he?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Mando cocks his head to the side, and you swear you see a glint of mischief flash along the t-shape of his visor.

“Well, if I’m not mistaken,” he starts, taking a step closer to you. Your heart picks up in pace.

He gently pushes aside the collar of your shirt to reveal deep red marks blooming along your neck. Your stomach flips at the feeling of his bare fingers along your collarbone. Your throat goes dry.

“You owe me some credits.”

He stays still like this for a moment, and you take a deep breath, his touch feeling electric against your skin. When he goes to remove his hand, it’s instinct when you reach for it, clutching it and holding it in place. You feel him tense beneath you as your fingers wrap his palm. You swallow hard, drinking him in beneath the lowlight of the ship: the shine of his dumb helmet, how he towers over you, the warmth of his presence.

You squeeze his hand, and to your surprise, he squeezes it back. His thumb traced over your fingers, and in your boldness, you gently pull it towards your cheek.

“Mando?” you hear Xi’an’s voice call from his room.

You shut your eyes tight, heart dropping to your stomach. Her call felt like ice water dumping over you, killing the warm, fuzzy feeling that engulfed you only moments earlier. You drop his hand quickly. You hug yourself, fingers buzzing so wildly with nerves, you need to hold it close to keep your hand from shaking. You clear your throat and shoot him a weak smile, avoiding his gaze. Bristling past him, you stop in your doorway and whisper.

“Goodnight, Mando.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

i imagine deo as jake gyllenhaal when he played mysterio just less of a crackhead. :)

taglist

@bella-ciaao @tiffdawg @peggers-n-beggers @sinnamon-bunn @adlerorzel-blog @theocatkov @paryl

thank u for reading, space cowboys <3

#migraine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin/reader #IT'S ALMOST 5AM WE WILDIN OUT HERE #I DID THIS INSTEAD OF DOING MY FINALS WOOO HOOOO #ok gnight i have class in like 5 hours

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sparkly-despair-imagines · 4 years

Note

Requests are open? Neato! May I get characters of your choice from SDR2 and/or V3 who try and touch their s/o’s hair, but s/o always avoids it in some way, then they find out from s/o’s friend that s/o’s previous love died during the relationship and they used to play with s/o’s hair a lot? (Sorry for the lack of characters, I just couldn’t think of anyone specifically I wanted this request for.)

Nagito Komaeda “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Me: So I’m going to write Hajime, Shuichi, Makoto, Kokichi...

Also me: Do Nagito.

Me: Okay sure.

Still me: Write a bible sized scenario for Nagito and nothing more.

So here we are :’)

Mod Dia

You two were at his cottage, cuddling and talking about random things.

You started smothering his neck with little kisses and the cute chuckles he let out as he asked you to stop only encouraged you to keep going.

He had his arms wrapped around your waist so he gently pulled you closer to him.

You giggled as he planted kisses of his own on your neck.

He ran his fingers through your hair, getting very confused when you abruptly pulled away.

“I-I’m sorry... I have to go..!” Your eyes were watery as you got up and left his room.

He was utterly confused as to why he was so suddenly left alone but he shrugged and told himself that it was most definitely due to his luck.

(...)

The next day he went to the restaurant to meet with everyone and sat down next to Hajime, seeing you hadn’t arrived yet.

“Good morning Nagito.” The other boy greeted him, noticing his gloomy expression. “Is everything alright?”

“Hmhm.” He just nodded and bit down on his piece of toast.

“If you don’t tell me what is wrong I won’t be able to help you.”

“It’s just... I think I made s/o hate me.”

“Oh great, relationship problems...” Hajime thought, rubbing the back of his neck and sighing.

“I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, I just didn’t expect for it to be so sudden.”

“Well, what was it that happened, exactly?”

“We were hanging out and when I reached out to touch their hair they just left. I think I made them cry too.... I’m just the worse, ri-”

“You idiot!” Mahiru waved her fork in his direction accusingly.

She had just sat down next to Hajime to eat her breakfast and overheard what Nagito had said.

“Hajime cover your ears.”

“Why do I have to do that?!”

“Geez, just do it already!” She furrowed her brows at him.

“Okay, okay, pretend I’m not even here.” Defeated, Hajime covered his ears with his hands.

Mahiru leaned in closer to Nagito’s ear and discreetly told him about what s/o had gone through.

Nagito thanked her and shoved the rest of the toast in his mouth, leaving the restaurant.

He walked with quick steps, only stopping when he was in front of your cottage.

He called out your name and you hesitantly opened the door.

“Nagito, is anything wrong...?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Uh-“

“I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” He gently took your hand in his. “We were having such a good time and I managed to screw everything up.”

“I-It’s not your fault! I overreacted, I’m sorry as well.”

“No, it is my fault. I shouldn’t have just done whatever I pleased. Of course I ended up hurting someone I love.” He let go of your hand. “Hit me, s/o.”

“...What!?”

“Slap me, punch me, do whatever you want. Hurt me to your heart’s content. I made you remember something painful, it’s only fair if I feel the same pain.” He stopped for a second, noticing the frightened look on your face. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. After all, why waste your energy on human garbage like me? You’d be better off without-”

“Nagito, stop!” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you. “Stop it! I can’t take it when you talk about yourself like that!”

“S/o..?”

“How could you have known? It’s not your fault! I should’ve just told you in the first place!” You were starting to become agitated, your voice trembled as you spoke. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you. I love you so much! For you to say that I shouldn’t be with you... A world without Nagito by my side... I don’t want that!”

“Sorry...”

“D-don’t apologize..!” You hugged him tighter. “You haven’t done anything bad, right?”

He hugged you back as you cried into his shirt.

“You just n-need to stay with me.! D-don’t ever leave me...”

He rubbed your back in a circular motion with his hand and waited until you were able to recompose yourself.

“I’m here.” Nagito said. “If you ever want to talk about anything that’s bothering you... Just tell me. I want to be there for you.”

He remembered what Hajime had said earlier. “If you don’t tell me what is wrong I won’t be able to help you.”

You nodded and gave him a small smile and he pulled you in for one last hug.

“S/o... I know I’m probably going to make you suffer a lot without even realizing it, but please always remember that I love you.”

#danganronpa #goodbye despair #nagito komaeda #scenario #imagine #s/o #comfort #danganronpa 2 #soft #fluffy #angst

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 4 years

Text

Really, Marcia?

PART THRTY-FIVE OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of parent death, mentions of anxiety, plentiful pop culture references, lack of dialogue because this is exposition and foreshadowing for the next chapter just hang in there with me friends

Word Count: 4.6K

Summary: Jess and Ella return to Stars Hollow once again during graduation season.

Dropping the bags again in the apartment above Luke’s almost made Ella want to laugh out loud. Maybe she shouldn’t have made such a big deal of leaving the diner to move to Philadelphia; she felt like she almost couldn’t escape Connecticut. The trip, this time, was planned in advance, however. Both Adam and Rory were graduating, and Jess’s new sister had been born only a week earlier. Much was to be done, many people to visit. It made Ella feel slightly overwhelmed, the prescribed familial nonsense. Going back to Stars Hollow was easier when she could just casually pop into Luke’s or her home, and then drive away in the Station Wagon with Jess in the passenger seat and Liz Phair on the radio whenever she felt compelled. But the graduation had a scheduled time, Rory’s graduation party had a scheduled time. There was no getting out of it.

For a moment, she had thought about staying back in her old room in the little blue house. She felt as though they were taking advantage of Luke staying over at his place as often as they did. But then it occurred to her that she had no real idea what her room looked like anymore. The few times she’d been over in recent years, she hadn’t even ventured past the threshold of the small hallway, her door the second on the right. She felt maybe it was better to leave the room the way it had been in her memory. She was not in the business of reopening old wounds for no reason other than curiosity.

There was also the issue of her father. Fiona had been cagey at best about Jake on the phone. Would he even show up to the graduation? Surely he would. Even Noah had traveled back home, for the first time in years, though without his fiancé. She was a nurse, and hadn’t been able to get away from the midnight shifts. He was a paralegal, though, and had been able to swing a Saturday afternoon graduation. But, still, there was a gnawing feeling in her stomach. A fear he would simply not show. He had been at her high school graduation, with his robotic hugs and teary eyes and the usual detached way about him. It hadn’t been warm and fuzzy, but he had been there for her. He had clapped as she crossed the stage. And, as far as Ella was concerned, Adam deserved more than she ever got from Jake. Adam called often, and seemed to get along rather well with Fiona, but remained flighty about their father. She could count on him changing the subject every time Jake was brought up.

“Hey! Eleanor,” Jess said, breaking her from her reverie.

She blinked harshly and jumped at the sound of his voice. Slowly, she turned her gaze away from the view of the window above Luke’s kitchen sink. Town square was decorated with florals, and the troubadour stood playing an upbeat, folksy tune on one of the corners. And, as she thought about her family, it had all struck her as a bit plastic. It seemed impossible for so much heartache to happen to her while living in a place like Stars Hollow, but it had. In spite of the sunshiney smiles and the constant offerings for help. Probably why she got along with Jess so well, who understood more than anyone she had ever met what it was to feel a pain she could truly recognize. Luke, too. She wondered at how many people milling down on the sidewalk were concealing all of their hurt for the sake of maintaining a positive, cheerful facade. The farther away the years took her from her upbringing, the more reasons she felt she was better off somewhere other than her hometown. She had never quite been able to polish her outward mold, could never keep it all under wraps. Instead, she ended up cursing out kids who tried to steal random shit from the diner or punishing herself through constant schoolwork and lack of sleep, all to keep her problems from making it from her mind to her mouth. And, most of the time, she had slipped up eventually. Once more, her father came to her mind. He hadn’t been able to wear a convincing mask, either.

“...yeah?” she asked, then looked down to realize the glass she had been filling with cold water from the tap was overflowing onto her hand.

Quickly, she shut off the sink and sipped carefully at the drink, until it was back down to a manageable level. She switched it to the other hand and shook off the wetness, though it hadn’t felt unwelcome after having just come in from the May heat. Jess smirked quizzically at her, from where he stood at the fridge. They were meant to have a late lunch and then go over to Liz’s house and meet the baby, Doula. Despite how much Luke was making fun of it, Ella couldn’t say she hated the name.

“Jeez, Stevens. Where’d you go?” Jess’s voice was lilted and smug as he pulled some leftover sandwiches from the fridge. Luke had instructed them to finish off whatever diner cast-offs they could find. It reminded Jess of his teen years, tense dinners with Luke at the small kitchen table, eating stale food which had been prepped but never actually ordered. And he felt an odd, surprising jolt of nostalgia. But his face didn’t show it.

She shook her head at herself, placing her glass down on the table and grabbing the cutlery as Jess put the leftovers out on the table buffet-style. It reminded her of the way he arranged a meal on her kitchen table the night they’d watched the prom scene of Carrie together, when he’d brought her a care package because she had a migraine and then refused to admit to it later. And, for the most fleeting of moments, she was in the past and they were the people they had once been. A fond smirk tugged at her lips as she sat down, plates and forks in hand.

“Nowhere,” she replied finally, her voice a sigh. Before Jess could ask anything further, she gave him a pointed glance as she piled some cold mashed potatoes onto her plate and continued. “You sure you’re okay going to Liz’s house today? We could always wait until tomorrow morning, then we could have an excuse to leave and go get ready for the graduation.”

He seemed to consider the idea of a moment as he took his first bite of meatloaf, then shook his head. “No. Let’s just rip the bandaid off.”

“That’s the spirit when you’re going to see a new baby,” she quipped.

“I can guarantee the baby will be easier to handle than Liz and TJ, no matter how much she cries,” Jess grumbled, looking down at his food.

Ella bit the inside of her cheek and leveled him with her eyes. Each time they returned to Stars Hollow, he seemed to get more anxious about it. At first, it was because the entire town had hated him as a teen. But it got much worse when Liz moved there. She thought it strange how much everyone seemed to discount how Jess felt about this, how much Luke complained about her. How much they expected Jess to get over what he was feeling and play dutiful son. It reminded her of the way she felt she needed to treat her own father after her mother died. Though the sexist bullshit about her being the ‘woman of the house’ had also played a part. She knew how Luke felt about family, how he would always show up for family regardless of circumstance. Maybe Jess was the same way, loyal to a fault. But maybe it was only for his chosen family. Maybe the rest of it was more because of all the outward pressure he faced.

She reached over and ran a hand through his hand, smoothing it out. For a moment, she thought of saying something, but decided it wasn’t the right time to start a conversation about Jess’s childhood, or the lingering effects he still wouldn’t acknowledge. Not right before seeing his mother. She was trying hard lately to be patient, despite the way his eyes became guarded at the mention of his new sister or his mother, or the increased frequency of his nightmares. It was getting worse before her eyes and she didn’t know why. But Jess was Jess. And he wasn’t going to see it until he was ready to. It almost physically pained her, the effort of swallowing down the words, but she bit her tongue nonetheless.

He offered her a lazy, lopsided smile in return.

. . .

His grip on her hand was tight as they made their way into Liz and TJ’s house, just as gaudy and eclectic as Ella remembered from the baby shower. She might’ve even found it charming if it weren’t for the screaming color of the decor. The place smelled of burnt toast and sour milk, and Ella was instantly glad she and Jess had chosen to eat beforehand, just in case Liz asked them to stay for dinner. The scent was overpowered only by the strong perfume Liz was wearing, which Ella couldn’t ignore as Liz pulled her in for a big hug of greeting.

“Come in, come in,” Liz said in her high, sing-song voice as she led them down the front hall and into the living room. “She’s just waking up from nap!”

The room was littered with toys, empty bottles, blankets, story books Doula wouldn’t be able to read for years. But it was sweet. Ella could see how much they’d been preparing, planning. For a second, she was relieved about it, but then the feeling mixed with a distasteful sadness. Jess had never specifically addressed his bedtime routine as a child, but Ella was fairly positive Liz had never read him Goodnight Moon. She gave his hand a final squeeze before disentangling their fingers and sitting down on the paisley patterned couch. Liz lifted Doula up from the bassinet in the corner by the rocking chair. Ella could barely see the baby beneath the patchwork quilt she was swaddled in. Doula fussed for a moment, and Liz smiled at the two of them apologetically.

“She needs a change. I’ll be right back!” she said, retreating back into the bedroom. “Make yourselves comfortable!”

“Okay. Thanks,” Ella replied cordially. She looked back at Jess as his mother exited the room. “You okay?”

He shrugged, his eyes surveying the clutter. “I guess so. It’s just weird still. All of this.”

Ella hummed, nodding.

“And I’m not really used to the whole baby thing yet. I’ve never even held one before,” Jess said, slightly sheepish and slightly curious. He crossed his arms over the Metallica logo on his worn t-shirt. He’d taken a half day working at Truncheon before they left for Connecticut, and was always happy to change into less professional attire after his shifts.

“I know, but it’ll be easy. Unless TJ pops out and sings that song the frog does in Looney Tunes. Then is the only instance when you’d be even slightly at risk of dropping her,” Ella assured him, leaning back into the overstuffed couch.

She’d gleaned from their conversation the night before that his inexperience with children was also not helping his nerves. The only time she’d ever recalled Jess interacting with kids for any real length of time was the one Thanksgiving she’d brought him to meet her family. But even then, she’d been surprised how easily he’d wowed Erin with his card tricks, and played along with her jokes. Not something she’d exactly expected from the boy who wore a battered leather jacket and a constant scowl and a scarred heart on his sleeve.

“Why do you always worry he’s gonna do that?” Jess asked, cracking a smile for the first time since they’d walked in.

“I told you! He sang it to me one time when I was working and he was hanging out at the diner. He was trying to figure out what song to serenade your mom with,” she explained, eyes wide and utterly serious. “I was just wiping down the counter, minding my own business, and he just appeared, like, right over my shoulder.”

Jess rolled his eyes at the story, remembering when Ella had first told him about it over one of their phone calls, back when they were hundreds of miles apart. “Well, it doesn’t seem like he’s here right now.”

“I didn’t think he was in the diner when it happened,” Ella countered, her voice jokingly grave.

Jess chuckled but didn’t have a chance to respond as Liz reentered the room. A large smile stood out on her face, the baby dressed in a soft punk onesie in her arms. Doula squirmed around a little and cooed, but didn’t seem altogether unhappy.

“Ready to meet your little sister, Jess?” Liz asked, coming over and preparing to put Doula in Jess’s arms before he even had a chance to answer.

“Guess so,” he muttered hastily, eyes widening.

“Just be careful with her head,” Ella offered, watching as Liz hovered over her son, placing her daughter’s head in the crook of his arm.

Jess was surprised at how naturally his other arm moved to cradle her. She felt so light, it was as though he was holding nothing at all. Her skin was slightly flushed from the warmth of the quilt she’d been napping in, and he could feel the heat against his arms and his chest, through his t-shirt. His heart fluttered around anxiously in his chest, and he couldn’t help the slight trembling in his hands, but he was pretty sure he had a good grip on her. Liz straightened up again, looking down at the two of them. Jess almost couldn’t take his eyes off the baby, embarrassed at how awestruck he was. Ella’s nieces were the youngest kids he had ever been in contact with. He had never met someone when they were only a week old before.

“Isn’t she something?” Liz said, hands on her hips. “She looked a lot like Danny Devito when she first came out, but I think she’s finally getting past that early ugly baby phase.”

Jess hummed in absent acknowledgement, but said nothing. Doula had thin wisps of blonde hair, and pudgy, rosy cheeks. Her fingers were curled into small fists, her legs scrunched up. He wondered vaguely if she was going to fall back asleep, since it seemed she couldn’t keep her eyes open for very long. She smelled like rash cream, but he couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed at it.

“Yeah, she’s beautiful, Liz,” Ella answered, though her gaze went back and forth between the baby and Jess. She couldn’t think of a time when she’d seen his eyes so clear and full of wonder before. She’d been too young to hold a newborn when Adam arrived, but she remembered the feeling of holding Erin as a baby, in the hospital just hours after Julie had given birth to her. It was certainly a unique feeling, and she felt her heart swell at the thought of Jess getting to experience it.

Glancing back at the kitchen for a moment, Liz once again gained a frantic tone in her voice. But, after having known her for so long, Ella knew it wasn’t unusual. Liz was the kind of person who put her coffee cup on the top of her car while unlocking the door, and then drove away without remembering it, the mug shattering and coffee splattering on the road behind her.

“Damn, I was just makin’ a bottle when you guys got here. TJ usually does that stuff, but dinner got a little burned. He had to go get some Plan B takeout. Let me finish with the formula,” Liz said, making her way back towards the opening into the kitchen. “You guys okay with her for a second?”

“Yeah. Fine,” Jess answered, surprising Ella.

Just as Liz left again, Doula opened her eyes once more. But instead of letting them shut, she kept them open. She stared up at Jess, her large brown eyes meeting his and doing their best to focus on his face.

“She’s got a withering stare,” he murmured.

“Isn’t so hard, is it?” Ella shifted a little closer to him, leaning over his shoulder to see Doula. “You didn’t have to be nervous.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” Jess said quietly, a small smile on his face as he glanced over at Ella.

. . .

Back when she graduated high school, there had been rain. The day before, they’d had to move the ceremony preparation into the small auditorium. People were squished inside, standing up in the aisles once the seats ran out. Ella’s valedictorian speech had been a bit more than daunting with a bunch of irritated family and friends facing her, those who had traveled miles to Stars Hollow only to be packed into the smelly room like sardines. She supposed having graduation outside in the gazebo was better. The class size was small at Stars Hollow High, but it was best when everyone still had personal space. The one downside was the heat. Connecticut was not usually up near ninety degrees in late May, but a pocket of dry air was currently sitting atop the state, moving at a glacial pace.

Ella and Jess had sat sweating on some lawn chairs. While Julie and her husband Michael, who still lived in the same small house in New Britain, were on Ella’s other side, trying to get their girls to sit through the ceremony to moderate success. Annie’s wild curls were blowing in the scorching wind as she sat on her father’s lap, reading the small storybook she’d brought with her. Erin, on the other hand, just about to cross over into adolescence and middle school, had folded her arms sullenly over her chest and rolled her eyes at nearly every name called up to receive a diploma. Ella didn’t imagine she would’ve reacted much better at that age, being forced to sit out in the heat for hours only to watch Adam be handed a piece of paper. Noah had been on the far side of their row of seats, in his plain clothes, looking stoic as usual. He would be leaving just after the fanfare ended. He’d stayed at a motel the night before, with perhaps even less desire to stay in the little blue house than Ella had.

The valedictorian speeches were actually pretty good, but long. Adam would’ve been giving one if he hadn’t stopped trying in every one of his classes except for those involving science during his senior year. Ella respected the decision though. She had never found any application for calculus in adult life, no matter how hard she had worked at it in high school.

Fiona and Jake had shown up, together for some reason, ten minutes late. No seats were left near Ella, or anyone else in the family. Instead, they were relegated to the far back row. Her brows furrowed at their entrance, but they didn’t get close enough to Ella for her to say anything. Jess had brought her arm around her shoulder as she watched them pass her without so much as a look, and took to whispering jokes about their old principal in her ear. It didn’t work as well to distract her as he had hoped, but it had still earned him a laugh or two, which was far from nothing.

As they all stood around afterwards, under the shade of some trees behind the old gazebo, congratulating Adam, Ella couldn’t shake the thoughts of her parents from her mind. She wondered how different the day would be if her mother had lived. Would her parents still be together? Probably. Despite the problems they hid, the ones Ella had become more aware of the older she got, they did love each other. No matter how much her mother laid down and took Jake’s outbursts and his alcoholism, and no matter how much her father ignored Sophia’s distracted nature and inability to decide on anything in life, they loved each other. And, the thought struck her suddenly, that maybe everything would have been easier to swallow if they hadn’t loved each other so much. It would have been easier to accept how quickly everything fell apart, and how quickly her father had found someone new to fill the hole in his heart.

“You okay?” Jess asked, close to her ear as they lingered amongst the group, pictures having been taken and pleasantries having been exchanged.

“Just peachy,” she replied, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, pressing a kiss to the crown on her head and giving her hand another squeeze. It hadn’t taken him long to gather how angry seeing her father again had made Ella. He wondered when the last time had been.

“I could do without the Brady Bunch performance,” she whispered back to him, gesturing to the members of her family as they continued with fabricated niceties.

“Really, Marcia? But you’re the oldest sister! That means you would’ve been prom queen!” Jess teased.

She rolled her eyes and snorted a laugh. “Whatever, Wally Logan.”

Approaching the two of them with narrowed eyes, Erin still had her arms crossed over her frilly dress. She had more than one bandaid on each knee, and she had already pulled the french braid out of her red hair. Speaking mostly to Ella, she sized Jess up.

“I remember him,” Erin said suspiciously.

A confused, bemused grin crossed Ella’s face. “Yeah. At Thanksgiving. You were like five. You remember that?”

“I have a really good memory,” Erin said, shrugging, confident and casual.

Ella chuckled at the flippant ten-year-old.

“Photographic, huh?” Jess asked, eyebrows raised.

“Pretty close,” Erin replied, then focused her eyes back on Ella. “Did you ever figure out his middle name?”

“Sure did,” Ella answered, smirk growing. “You wanna hear it?”

“Of course,” Erin said. “I know for a fact it’s not Santa Claus.”

Jess rolled his eyes.

Ella leaned down and whispered in Erin’s ear. Straightening up again, Ella watched Erin’s gaze roam over to Jess doubtfully.

“What kind of a name is Cosmo?” Erin asked.

“Listen, my mom’s into crystals and-” Jess began, but Michael called Erin over for something.

“Gotta go,” Erin said, and skipped off towards her father without another word.

“C’mon, Elle,” Jess groaned, a blush creeping up his neck and warming the tips of his ears.

She chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder. “Sorry, Cosmo.”

Before Jess was able to retort, Fiona and Jake approached them. Considering they were split up, the peculiarity of the two of them arriving together wasn’t lost on anyone, not that it would ever be mentioned. At a closer proximity, Ella was surprised to see how different Jake looked. His hair was greyer, he was skinnier, there were dark circles under his eyes. Whatever has been going on in Maryland didn’t seem to be conducive to health. She had to bite back her sigh at the sight of him. Fiona was more or less the same, though Ella had visited her more or less recently. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laid eyes on her father. The shadow of the man he had been when she was a child was almost completely gone. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest.

“Hey, kids,” Fiona said, giving Ella a quick hug.

“Oh, hi,” Ella chirped, surprised at her instant warmth.

She also hugged Jess, shocking everyone involved.

“So good to see you guys! How are things in Philly? Adam tells me you just got a new apartment?” Fiona asked, buzzing and bubbly. Her black hair was cropped close to her head. Ella remembered how she used to let apprentices at the beauty salon experiment on her locks during breaks.

“Yeah, we’ve been there about a month,” Ella said. “It’s only a few blocks over from school. I can walk there.”

“How nice,” Fiona smiled.

“It is,” Jess agreed.

Shifting uncomfortably from foot-to-foot, Jake finally interjected. “Hi, Ellie.”

“Hey, dad,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Young man,” Jake greeted Jess coldly, nodding.

Jess gave a curt nod and a thin-lipped smile in response.

There was a long pause before anyone spoke again, filled with distant, amiable chatter of other families and shrieks of congratulations. Out of the corner of her eye, Ella could see Adam was already off with his friends. Soon, they would be headed to dinner and Project Graduation. Part of Ella was glad Adam didn’t want a big day of family celebration. No one would’ve survived any extended period of false positivity.

“I see you’ve got tattoos now, Ellie,” Jake said, looking down at the tulip on her arm, exposed in her spaghetti strap dress. “Your mother would’ve called that sinful, you know.”

The corners of Ella’s lips tugged up into a resentful smile, the words dripping with venom as they left her mouth before she could stop them. “Well, it’s a good thing she’s dead then, isn’t it?”

Both Fiona and Jake’s jaws dropped and it seemed all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air around them. Ella’s stomach dropped and she brought her hand over her mouth just after she said it. Her hazel eyes grew to the size of saucers. Immediately, Jess took her by the shoulders and began leading her in the direction of the diner, blurting out excuses.

“Hey, nice to see you folks, but we have to get to Rory’s graduation party tonight and it’d be pretty rude if we were late so…” he trailed off, stopping once they were far enough away, leaving Fiona and Jake flabbergasted and speechless.

“Oh my god,” Ella muttered, chewing at her thumbnail for the first time in what felt like forever. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I was gonna try to be nice if he came, because...at least he showed up, right? Fuck. Oh my god. Jess. Oh my god.”

“It’s okay, Daria. Just try to relax,” Jess breathed, steering her towards the diner as she instantly began melting down.

“I can’t relax, Jess! Don’t fucking tell me to relax! Did you hear that?! Did you hear what I just said?!” she muttered hastily. “Fuck me! Fuck! Every time I see him, my fucking mouth-”

“Hey, language!” Luke scolded her as they entered the diner, the bell jingling jovially above the door. There were only a few customers scattered around, the mid-afternoon lull.

“God, Luke, I thought age was supposed to negatively affect your hearing!” Ella snapped as Jess directed her to a stool and sat her down, hopping up on the seat next to her.

“Joe Pesci here is having a bad day,” Jess explained shortly as Luke shot Ella a bewildered stare.

“What happened?” Luke asked, arching a brow.

Ella heaved a great sigh and placed her head in her hands, elbows on the counter. “Bigmouth has struck again. And apparently she has even less of a filter now than she did in high school!”

“Right,” Luke said, increasingly confused.

Running a hand up and down over Ella’s back as she continued fuming, Jess gave Luke a dejected glance. “Green tea?”

A shadow of realization passed over Luke’s face. “Comin’ right up.”

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