#nines rodriguez x reader

[jasperbynight]

Hey so how alive is the Vampire the masquerade bloodlines fandom on Tumbler?

I've been playing the game recently as I finally have a gaming laptop that works and I really want to write for VTMB.

I'm probably going to write for VTMB anyway but if anyone is interested let me know and I'll tag you.

Just know that unless I get requests, the reader is FtM by default as I'm FtM.

[vampire-the-askerade]

Beckett and/or the anarchs reacting to a thin-blood fledgling? What would that look like

[went with the last round Anarchs and Beckett. Hope that was alright]

Nines- I can see him taking you in, but being cautious. As much as we might hate to admit it, Rodriguez is not as truly altruistic as he might make himself out to be. You're more of a bargaining piece, at least at first. A way to show how accepting the Anarchs are. Of course, he will cut ties if you become more hassle than you're worth in his opinion.

Damsel- I think she's the one most likely to fully accept you. It would take a bit, you have to build trust with her like anyone else would. But, once you have that trust it's hard to break it. She sees people's worth in the work they do and not their clan/where they come from. However, she will go with Nines' final word on however to handle you.

Skelter- He does not want you around at first. He's always looking for a way for things to go wrong, and with the ill omen reputation thin-bloods have you are basically a time bomb about to go off at any moment. Even if it's not something you do personally, there's no telling what the other factions might do if they found out that the Anarchs were harboring you. Gaining his trust is possible, but it will take a long while.

Jack- Here's the thing. Jack won't treat you any worse than anyone else he meets. Won't treat you any better either, but still. Mind your own business and don't be annoying, and the two of you won't have any problems. He's not one for superstition, so to him, you're just another type of clan with it's own set of problems. Though, he might make a biting insult every so often. Don't take it personally, he does that to everyone.

Beckett- He's actually more than interested to have you around. As long as you don't mind being a subject of study. Also not one for superstition; in fact his goal in his un-life is to debunk as many as he can. He'll try not to be too invasive with his studies, but he's also not the most social sort meaning he might not know boundaries. You're also expected to take care of yourself and learn your abilities yourself. He's a gangrel after all; not the most parental of clans.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Sense Memory: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: An unsub is abducting women and dumping their bodies left and right, and it's up to your team to stop him before he hurts anyone else. Meanwhile, your birthday is coming up, and Spencer tries to put together something he knows you'll love.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"Hunting is not a sport. In a sport, both sides should know they're in the game." - Paul Rodriguez

You're pulled from the nice dream you were having about Spencer by lips on your neck. You moan tiredly and move your head to the side, unknowingly giving Spencer more room to kiss your neck. He runs his hand up and down your body which rouses you out of sleep.

"Good morning to you, too," you grin and look at him.

"It's your birthday this weekend."

"Yes, it is. Can't wait to be twenty-eight," you laugh.

"Happy early birthday, baby."

He peppers kisses on your bare shoulder.

"Is this how I'm going to wake up every morning until then?"

"Maybe," he chuckles.

"Must be my lucky week then."

"I'll give you more in the shower if you get up now."

You get up faster than you care to admit. After a sensual shower with Spencer, you two head straight to work with two minutes to spare. Everyone but Emily is inside the briefing room, and you frown at her empty chair. Something nags at your insides when you think about why Emily isn't here. Something is telling you that it has everything to do with Sean.

"Where's Prentiss?" Derek asks when he walks in.

"I don't know. Her car wasn't here when we rode in this morning," Spencer says.

"I'm going to give her a call," Penelope offers.

Just then, Emily rushes in with an apologetic look on her face. She seems fine but you can feel just how scared she is. Why would she be? Is Sean hurting her? Will he? Is he dangerous? Is it someone else?

"Hey," she sighs.

"Somebody have a long night?" Derek asks.

"Somebody want to mind their own business?"

You frown at her words but she refuses to look at anyone. You want to ask her about it but Hotch instructs Penelope to get started.

"Spin the wheel and it is sunny Los Angeles, people."

"Remind me again why it's called the City of Angels," Rossi says.

"It was originally called the Town of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels." Everyone looks at Spencer, and he blushes. "That was a rhetorical question, wasn't it?"

"This is a weird one, folks. Three women were all abducted from different parts of the city and murdered within the last couple of weeks. Shelly Onto, a twenty-three-year-old bank teller was killed fifteen days ago. Vickie Hagerg, a thirty-nine-year-old art teacher, was killed six days ago. Lastly, Linda Dean, a twenty-eight-year-old hostess at a bar, was killed two days ago. All from different parts of the city, all different socioeconomic statuses. All three were held approximately twenty-four hours before being dumped in a public space."

"He's not hiding what he's doing," Rossi says after he scans the photographs.

"Here's one weird part. All three women were drowned, but their bodies weren't found anywhere near water."

"They were drowned somewhere else and transported to the dumpsite," Hotch adds.

"Garcia, you're right, this is weird," Derek comments.

"There's more, unfortunately. They weren't drowned in water."

"Methanol?" Spencer asks when he reads ahead in the file.

"Each woman had it in her lungs and was alive before she went into it. No water, just methanol."

"Drowning's a tough way to kill someone."

"It's slow," Hotch says. "The unsub wants his victims to suffer, and he's got the space and privacy in which to do it."

"If you have yet to hit your daily allotment of skeeve before breakfast, each woman had an identical removal of flesh taken from the bottom of her right foot," Penelope adds.

"Methanol and skin. What the hell is he doing with them?"

The meeting ends and you leave to get your go bag from your desk. Emily walks to her desk but pauses when she gets a message from her phone.

"Hey, Em." She looks up when you approach her desk. "Are you okay?"

She goes back to looking at her phone. "I'm fine. Why?"

"Emily, you're scared. I can feel it."

Her head snaps up and she glares at you in silent anger.

"Please mind your own business. If I want to share with the class, I know where to find you."

She grabs her go bag and stalks off. She's never behaved this way in all the time you've known her. Something or someone has her scared. She's acting out of fear, and it makes you sad. You catch up with the rest of the team and head to the plane that's patiently waiting for you.

"Methanol is compositionally speaking the simplest of the alcohols. It's actually ubiquitous in the environment. There are small traces of its vapor in the atmosphere, but atmospheric methanol is easily oxidized by sunlight," Spencer explains.

"Is it toxic?" Emily asks.

"Ingesting ten milliliters of it will cause permanent blindness, and as little as thirty is potentially fatal."

"These victims had between five and six ounces in their lungs," you say.

"If they were immersed in it, they would have died even without ingesting or inhaling it. When absorbed through the skin, it depresses the central nervous system to an unsustainable degree."

"What's it used for?" Derek asks Spencer.

"What isn't it used for? A solvent and an antifreeze. In World War II, the Germans used it for rocket fuel. It's used in wine-making. Its most commonplace use, however, is in the creation of other chemicals. Methanol can become plastic, plywood, paint, explosives, and permanent-press textiles. It's essentially the chemical used to separate other chemicals from each other."

"Can it be bought? Is it tracked?"

"California has some of the strictest environmental laws in the country. I'm sure it's regulated," Hotch says.

"Yeah, but methanol is also used in making biofuels which quite a few people have been doing at home. I'd imagine the sale of it is fairly commonplace."

"He needs enough of it to immerse an entire body."

"All the victims were nude, but there's no evidence of sexual assault on any of them, and the skin was removed from the bottom of the foot. Unless we're talking about a foot fetishist, you actually can't get further away from sexual areas."

"Impotent sadists like Robert Napper typically take their frustration out on their victims. You'd think there'd be a lot more overkill," you say.

"What about the skin patches? Is this a trophy of some sort?" Hotch asks.

"I have no idea," Spencer answers his question. "Skin, independent of any other substance, would wither and die rather quickly."

"That might be the thing that's forcing our unsub back out on the hunt. Considering the wide divergence of abduction and dumpsites, this guy could be anywhere. LA is over five hundred square miles."

"Four hundred and ninety-eight point three," Spencer corrects.

Derek shakes his head with a smile and you snicker. Spencer just can't help himself.

"The fact that no one has seen him either abduct or dispose says he knows the city and its patterns well."

Only you and Hotch meet with the detective when you land while the rest scout the crime scenes, abduction scenes, and dump sites. The detective is going to escort you to see the bodies at the ME's office.

"Agent Hotchner? I'm Detective Bailey. I'm the primary, at least until the city starts a task force."

"This is Agent Y/N. Thank you for inviting us.'

"I hope you can help."

"We'll do what we can," you say.

"The doc's waiting. We got nothing here. Two of the three women weren't even reported missing when we found them. He's dumping their bodies twenty-four hours after abducting them. It takes longer than that for a missing persons report to clear the system, and I have no idea if there are more."

"Let's hope not."

You walk into the ME's office where two bodies are lying on the table. The ME removes his gloves to shake both yours and Hotch's hands.

"The victims were clearly drowned, but there was absolutely no water in their system. It's one hundred percent methanol. It was completely seeped into their skin. They soaked in it for some time. I'd say they spent most of the time submerged, though not completely."

"Maybe the soaking serves a purpose other than drowning," you say.

"Could be."

"What about the wounds and the missing pieces of skin? Were the edges clean like the unsub knew what he was doing?"

"Actually, on the first two victims, the edges of the wounds were jagged as if the instrument was shaking while the skin was cut. On the latest victim, it's much cleaner and much more defined."

"His confidence and skill level are increasing. I don't imagine you need any medical training for something like that?"

"No, just something sharp enough."

"Y/N, what are you getting?"

You run a gloved hand over the arms of both victims and see the exact same image for both of them: a taxi.

"A taxi. I assume all the victims rode in one. Doctor, was there any methanol in the wound?"

"Only trace amounts."

"So, the skin was removed after the body was taken out of the chemical. Postmortem. It's not about torture or pain."

"Oh, there is one other thing. I noticed in the toxicology report that Ms. Dean had a good amount of chloroform in her blood. It turns out the other victims did as well."

"If he were using chloroform, wouldn't she have burning around her nose and mouth?" Hotch asks.

"Usually. None of them showed any signs of it, but there was burning inside her nostrils. She breathed the chloroform in."

"What if he aerosolized it to turn it into a mist?" you ask.

"That could do it."

"That's pretty extensive preplanning."

You and Hotch leave the ME's office and meet with the rest of the team back at the police station.

"Guys, as I feared, methanol can be easily purchased from any chemical supply house in Southern California," Spencer says when he sees you and Hotch. "It's not controlled. You can buy it in large or small quantities. I've charted the abduction and disposal sites. Linda was taken from Hollywood. Her body was dumped in Echo Park. Shelly was last seen in the Garment District. Her body was dumped in Sherman Oaks. Vickie was taken in Torrance, south of the city. Her body was left in Westlake."

"That's a huge geographical area," Hotch sighs.

"The only area the unsub hasn't hit yet is east of downtown, which means we can either eliminate it or it's the one place left."

"So, we're back to nothing," Rossi says.

"No, not necessarily. I looked at the crime scene photos. These sites are true dumpsites. I mean, there's no concealment and no staging. He literally just dumps the bodies there like garbage once he's done with them."

"The randomness could be orchestrated or it could be a simple opportunity. Either way, he's very mobile."

"All of the dumpsites, including the most recent one, are between the 110 and 405 freeway and the 5 and 10 north and south."

Emily walks in, having come back from Linda's family home.

"Linda's family said she always took the Red Line home from work at night, but the subway in LA stops running at one in the morning. She clocked out of work at five past one."

"LA at one in the morning? She probably didn't walk home."

"No, and Kingsley is a mile away."

"All the victims had breathed an aerosolized chloroform, and to do that he needed an enclosed space."

"You know, chloroform's a lot more controlled than methanol. I'll have Garcia track any large quantity purchases or thefts from chemical supply houses," Derek says and takes out his phone.

"So, we're looking for a vehicle, one that could be in any area of Los Angeles at one in the morning and not attract attention."

"I hate to say it, but that could be a police car," Detective Bailey suggests.

"Hotch, I did say I saw a taxi on both victims. What if he's using that to abduct his victims?"

"Live from Quantico, VA, it is the divine Miss Penelope. Los Angeles, you're our first and favorite caller. Talk to me," Penelope answers Derek's call.

"Okay, woman, you do know you're crazy, right?"

"Mm-hmm, but like you always say, don't hate the playa, hate the game."

Derek laughs. "Okay, playa, my bad. Listen, I need you to check and see which cab companies serve the Hollywood area where Linda was abducted."

Penelope types as she speaks. "There are seven. Bell, Beverly Hills, Checker, City, Independent, United, and the Yellow Cab Company."

"Can you narrow that down and find out who picked up fares near Vaughn's Bar and Grill in the last seventy-two hours?"

"That's gonna take a minute or two, but still no cause for perspiration. I shall lovingly hit you back when I have something."

"Thanks, playa," Derek grins. He hangs up and addresses the team. "There are seven cab companies. Garcia's running them down now."

"Most taxis here run out of cab stands. It's not like New York where they're running all over the place," Bailey says.

"That should help narrow down the choices. Excuse me."

Hotch leaves and you look at Emily who is by herself. She is looking at her phone with the same look on her face from this morning. You cautiously walk over to her, and she looks up.

"Hey, I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have said anything. I won't do it again."

She doesn't say anything so you're about to leave when she speaks up.

"No, I'm sorry," she sighs. I shouldn't have spoken to you about that. It's..." She looks around and lowers her voice. "You're right, I am scared, but I can't talk about it."

"Is your life in danger?" you ask. She doesn't answer you which kind of answers your question. "Listen, whatever it is, just know you have an amazing team behind you to help you. I won't bring it up again unless you do, but I want you to know that. You're my family, Em. I worry for you."

"Thanks," she whispers.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[edgessunflower]

Return

Pairing: Lilian Garcia x Fem reader

Description: You and Lilian make your returns to WWE

It felt like the very first time you ever walked into an arena all over again as you and Lilian walked backstage hand in hand for the first time in a few years since the two of you left WWE until you got a call from Hunter asking the two of you to return after Samantha Irvin left and they were in need of a ring announcer and you needed a change from wrestling on TNA like you had been over the last few years other than wrestling on GCW. You smiled backstage seeing lilian out there after she was welcomed back by Joe Tessitore feeling love and pride for your wife being welcomed back to wwe by the fans and everyone in the world with open arms before the next few matches went by until you were standing by the curtain in new custom gear like it was your very first night in the business all over again, you watched Raquel Rodriguez make her entrance but when your theme song of Someone like you by Kings of Leon played everyone lost it and it was a purely unforgettable and life changing moment as you climbed in the ring with th largest smile as fans chanted your name nonstop along with welcome back. You walked backstage after winning your match with the roster and crew members cheering your return and your first won match in WWE for the first time nine whole years reuniting with your old friends Jey, Bayley, Rey Mysterio, Becky Lynch, Sami Zayn, Charlotte Flair, Seth Rollins, and Naomi meeting the new stars on the roster as well smiling with love and pride watching Lilian being cheered for her return by the crew and roster once Raw was ended feeling many emotions as the two of you left the arena hand in hand with the biggest smiles on your faces heading to dinner, once the two of you were in your shared hotel room settled for the late night tender words were shared followed by a soft kiss before holding each other in bed watching a movie.

[kunselxsoldier]

tag nine people you'd like to know better

I. favourite colours: red, always been my favourite.

II. favourite flavours: Loving asian dishes at the moment; teriyaki stir-fry, ramen, gyoza, chili-oil noodles.

III. favourite genres: Action and fantasy mostly. I'm such a wimp, I'm useless when it comes to horror.

IV. favourite music: At the moment, I'm OBSESSED with Epic: The Ocean Saga. It's a concept musical by Jorge Rivera-Herrans based on the Odyssey and tells Odysseus' journey from Troy and his attempts to get back home. The previous albums are the Troy Saga and the Cyclops Saga and they are amazing!!!! If you have a moment, definitely give them a listen.

V. favourite movies: I adore the original Beauty and the Beast, my all-time favourite movie. But I also really love Pretty Woman, as cliché as that sounds.

VI. favourite series: Oh, it changes depending on what's new at the moment and what I can binge. Yellowstone, Supernatural, The Boys, the new Percy Jackson at the moment is really hitting a vibe. Also adore The Sandman and House of the Dragon. The Last of Us goes without saying too.

VII. last song: Ruthlessness from Epic: The Ocean Saga. Seriously obsessed with this track and Steven Rodriguez who voices Poseidon.

VIII. last series: Percy Jackson and The Olympians on Disney+. (definitely helps that Toby Stephens is cast as Poseidon.)

IX. last movie: The last film I watched was Forrest Gump on New Year's Even, because I quite like the movie and my mam and sis had never actually seen it.

X. currently reading: The Gift of Fear by Gavin De Becker. An interesting and deep look into the signs our body gives us when we're in danger and how to recognise them and learn to trust them.

XI. currently watching: At the moment, I'm not watching anything, just binging Frontiers of Pandora on my PS5.

XII. currently working on: I'm still very slowly working on a fanfiction I've been writing since I was 17 in the YuGiOh fandom called Paper Roses. I didn't update for 4 years, but then finally got my arse into gear and back into writing. It's been rewritten over the years, but I'm doing a final overall rewrite of old chapters and slowly working on a new one for all the lovely readers who have stuck by me for so many years.

tagged by: @holyguardian tagging: @loqis @ceaselxss @denzelxstrife @fairfallcn @littlexsisterxulric @lightrookie @wingsandsteel

[marquisedegramont]

i. blog rules

౨ৎ Do not interact if you're racist, homophobic, sexist/misogynistic, transphobic, ableist, xenophobic, fatphobic besides I’m like six out of the seven of the things you’d hate on that list. Any hate will be blocked/ignored. And also discourse in fandoms. But I’m okay with answering asks that pertain to advice (I’ll try to give good advice to the best of my abilities hopefully.)

౨ৎ I don’t really do requests anymore because my academic life is taking over me + mental health issues. If you send in something I might write it, if I like the idea. Feel free to ask me for sequels I think that’s really lovely that people like my writing <3 Please also be more descriptive in your requests, and include a broader concept. But if you don’t mind anything I’m gonna write for your little idea then don’t worry about it!

౨ৎ Note that my writing style can be triggering sometimes as I use vile imagery and rather dark metaphors which include graphic descriptions of gore and cannibalism but I’ll try toning it down

౨ৎ English is my first language I just don’t respect English enough. And I also know five other languages that I respect more than English.

౨ৎ I also don’t like it when people give unwanted criticism. Or they reply to my fic saying they don’t like the character I’m writing for. It’s just plain out stupid if you do that and I trust that you have a brain that’s working.

ii. fic rules & boundaries

🔪 will write: fics, hc lists, quick drabbles • bd/sm • sub!reader or sub!character • afab + amab!reader • darkfics • hurt/comfort • blood & (light) gore • whump (focused on caretaking sorryyy) • light cannibalism • threesome/polymary (ffm, mmf, fff) • character x oc (if ur my friend hehe)

🗡 will not write: underage/illegal age gaps • rape • s/a • vomit in terms of sex • scat/shit • piss/omorashi • necrophilia (unless it’s a zombie or a vampire) • extreme gore • real people x reader

⛓ kinks i would luv to write: bondage • femdom • brat taming • teratophilia • sub men • praise

iii. fandoms & characters

john wick

john wick • marquis de gramont • the adjudicator (cont.) • santino d’antonio • ask for others cause i can write most of them

vampire: the masquerade - bloodlines

sebastian lacroix • nines rodriguez • jeanette/therese voerman • cuthert beckett • ming xiao

resident evil

lady dimitrescu • dimitrescu sisters • donna beneviento

˚｡★ all works belong to @marquisedegramont. please don’t from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms because i will be very sad and you don’t want to upset me right…. 🥺

[callmehopeless]

One Last Appeal

Nines Rodriguez x Reader

Words: 426 Plot: Nines goes out looking for the fledgling after Ventrue Tower blows up. He’s worried he’s lost her forever. A/N: I got asked a while back to write more Nines and Vampire: The Masquerade stuff. And I did the thing! I hope you like it. I love the community for this and am happy to be here.

Nines felt the explosion in his bones before he saw it; a pillar of fire and smoke rising from Ventrue Tower, debris raining across downtown L.A. He’d known this would happen, of course; he’d had some idea that Jack would load up the sarcophagus with god knows whatever he had and blow LaCroix sky high.

There were only a few unknowns, and there was a fucking big one weighing on Nines’ mind as he limped down the high street, the scars on his face and body still fresh from that werewolf taking a chunk out of him.

Was she alive?

Damsel thought he’d gone soft, and maybe he had. But the kid was something special; she made him feel like he was somebody. He’d always been somebody, no two ways about that. His name - for better or worse - was all over the city. But with her, he felt like he mattered. He didn’t know if she felt the same; never had the time to ask. Business, then pleasure.

And now, the fire engulfing the tower, he wondered if she’d made it out. If she’d burned in there with LaCroix.  He wondered if any of it would mean anything if she was gone.

He came to a stop down the street; listening as the sound of cop sirens got closer. He didn’t want to be around when they were looking for survivors and found he wasn’t quite alive. But he had to find her. “Kid!” he called out, collapsing against the brickwork of an alleyway. His throat ached in protest; his wounds were still healing and his body craved blood. But he could hardly think of that now. His head started to spin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this weak; this vulnerable. He knew dawn was coming soon and he’d have to make it back to The Last Round, with or without her.

“Nines!” Nines turned, his eyesight muddled and his head hazy. Despite that; he’d know that voice anywhere. He’d followed that voice all over L.A.  He’d follow it anywhere. Anywhere at all. “(y/n)” he breathed, pressing a hand to his side. This must’ve been the first time he’d ever used her name. He liked the way it sounded on his lips as relief washed over him. “I thought-” “I know. But it’s over, Nines. We did it” she grinned, slumping down next to him in the dingy light of the alleyway. The sound of sirens was approaching; but they were out of sight. And if they weren’t, they just looked like two well-dressed drug addicts. Just another pair of ghosts.

“You look like shit” she mused, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Nines could smell her blood - copper and incense, all strange in his nose. “Been worse. Been better” Nines spat, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers “tell me you knew Jack would blow the fucking building”. (y/n) chuckled, pausing for a moment. “I…considered it a very big possibility. I legged it the hell out of there just in case. Turns out my instincts were pretty spot on”. “Jack and I are going to have words” Nines sighed, wincing slightly.

“Wait a minute-” she started, her hair falling over her shoulder as she turned to him “-you used my name.” Nines smiled slightly, his teeth pushing down on his lip. “Don’t get too used to it, kid. They’ll think I’m going soft.” (y/n) shrugged off her jacket, folding it in her lap as she looked back at the tower. He could smell the smoke on her hair; see the sharp curve of her cheekbone illuminated by the streetlamp. “What now?” she asked, her voice seemingly very distant and far away. Nines lifted a hand, brushing the backs of his fingers against her hairline. He swallowed, hard. His fangs stuck into his lip as he tensed his jaw. “Whatever you want to happen” he muttered, his eyes trailing to her lips. She turned to him, her eyes glinting.

“This” she breathed, pushing her lips to his.

***

When the sun rose and the police scoured the scene; the alley was empty. A new day dawned on Los Angeles, the sun shining brightly in the sky. 

[runnerbunny483]

The only two men who have ever fought over me are Sebastian LaCroix and Nines Rodriguez

[jasperbynight]

Nines Rodriguez x Gender Neutral Gangrel Reader

This is my first time writing for Nines Rodriguez who is honestly my all time fictional crush.

Tag list

@gamergirl-06 @capriskunk @transpanda07 @thegreenwallrabbit-blog @furyelise @rainsofviolets

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

As I stepped into The Last Round, I noticed the fledgling from the other night, the one Nines saved from being killed.

She was talking to Jack, who noticed me and with his head motioned to upstairs, where Nines was waiting for me.

As I ascended the stairs I saw Nines leaning against his spot on the wall.

"So what's the Cammy doing here?" I asked Nines as he started to approach me his blue eyes shinning with mischief.

"Had to save the kid from a bunch of Sabbat, told her to come here so that she can finally learn the truth of what's going on" he said, his passion for the cause evident in his voice.

Taking his hand, I led him to the back of the room, to the booth we normally sat at.

He followed me willingly like always when he knew I wanted his attention.

"You've been so busy helping others and keeping all the Anarchs here in LA safe, that you've forgotten to take care of yourself" I told him as I pushed him to sit down.

"It's getting worse out on the streets, the Camarilla are doing everything they can to keep their stake in our city, and that bastard Lacroix is using the kid as a pawn in his business" he said as his arms wrapped around my middle.

"And you, my big strong Brujah, need to relax" I said as I ran my hands along his shoulders and down his back.

"And how do you suggest I do that?" He asked me, a knowing smirk on his face.

Instead of responding I kissed him, it was slow and passionate, but with an underlying need for more.

"How about we go back to our haven and relax yeah?" I asked him as I removed myself from his lap.

Without saying a word he got up and led me out of The Last Round and into the night.

~~Timeskip~~

After arriving at our haven, Nines grabbed me by my hips and pinned me to the wall.

"You cheeky little minx" he said before kissing me.

His lips moved from mine to my neck, his fangs scraping against the skin. His hands working on removing my clothes until I was bare before him.

He stepped back as I pawed at his shirt, hoping he'd remove it soon. Nines let out a deep chuckle as he took off his shirt.

"Come here my feisty little Gangrel" Nines said as he picked me back up and carried me to our bed.

~~Timeskip cuz I suck at smut~~

We lay there, wrapped in each other's arms. The room was silent but comfortable.

"You know, that's just what I needed, thank you baby" he said as he kissed me, the sun must have began to rise as we both became still, our eyes simultaneously closing.

[vampire-the-askerade]

Vampires with things I say to my dog

[a totally self-indulgent thing where I think it would be funny for the fledgling to say stuff to the kindred that I say to my dog. I am tired and this isn't proof read, sorry for the world salad]

To Nines- Hey there, Mr. Man! *Sing song* My mister, mister man!

To Strauss- You're bein' so fancy.

To Beckett- Whatcha doin', hairy man?

To LaCroix- You can't eat that. You're fancy, little, spaniel belly wouldn't like it.

To Gary- *kisses forehead* I love you, stinky!

To Jeannette- You don't get my food. Stop smacking me.

To the ankaran sarcophagus and possibly Caine the Father of Vampires: Hello~ the sleepiest boy~

[bekaroth-reads]

Nines Rodrigez x reader

Another nasty night in downtown L.A. and Nines Rodrigez was walking back to the Last Round. Sure, maybe the bar wasn't the fanciest of places, but he wasn't picky. The location and condition of the Last Round were kind of chosen on purpose as it would be a sure way to keep those rich, yuppy, Camarilla bastards well away from their home base. The reason that he was out in the first place was because he just needed a break from everything for a moment. Nines was almost always up for a fight, but there was a limit for how much even he could take. So, he went for a walk partly to scout things out, but mostly to clear his head. There were gun shots down an alley a few streets over, or so it sounded. That wasn't unusual for this town. Just then something caught his attention. Just as a taxi drove away a gang jumped the person that had just got out of it. Usually Nines would just mind his own business, but he didn't like the look of the guys that jumped the other person. It really caught his attention when they started to drag the unfortunate soul down an alley towards an abandoned car yard on the outskirts of the down town area. If this was just a typical gang feud then it probably would have been taken care of right then and there, but the fact that whoever these guys were wanted to be sure they were somewhere with a few people in earshot as possible meant something big was about to go down. Not to mention, he was starting to get the feeling like these were more than your average street punks at this point. As Nines followed them he was sure that they weren't human. There was no kine that could move as quickly and quietly as these guys were. They might have been more stealthy than a human, but by kindred standards they were noisy and clunky, so they must have been part of one of the Sabbat groups that had popped up recently. Nines was aware that there were actually some Sabbat that could be quiet when they needed to be, but it seemed like none of them were in the groups that were trying to take over here. There was something else that Nines noticed as time went on: there was no way that the person they were dragging around was human either. Not only would the Sabbat not have taken this much time on what they considered little more than food (not that he and others on the opposing side of the vampiric alignment were much better. They did call humans kine, which means cattle, after all), but a kine wouldn't have been able to take the beating that had already been given. He was just trying to figure out who it was at the moment. It was probably some Cammi grunt that was getting what was coming to them. He had heard that they and the Sabbat have been going at each other even more than usual lately. It wasn't until one of them moved a little more to the side that Nines saw who it really was. It was that fledgling that he stood up for back at that ridiculous display at the theatre. Sure, he couldn't give a rat's ass about the the sire or what rules he had supposedly broken, but that kid didn't ask for any of this and at least deserved to be given a chance, even if that disgusting pig that calls himself prince tried to use the situation for his advantage. In fact, it was surprising that the kid was alive at all based on the condition he heard Santa Monica was in. Well, there was no way that he was going to leave things the way they were now. Right before the leader of the group could do anything Nines pulled out his gun and shot him in the head. It didn't kill him, but there was no way that he could take much more. That didn't stop him or his two lackies from looking to start a fight anyways. "Keep moving." Nines threatened with his gun still pointed at the leader. "There's three of us, Rodrigez!" The leader snarled. "Yeah, what're ya gonna do? Shoot us?" The two in the back cackled. Nines was in no mood for a long, drawn out fight at the moment, so thankfully he remembered that he had brought a grenade with him. Sure that might seem excessive to most people, but with how crazy things have been there was no way he was going to run into something unprepared for everything. The three begrudgingly left, and Nines walked over to help the fledgling up, but before he could the leader form the Sabbat gang charged at him. But, with how loudly he was moving, Nines could hear him from a mile away, and easily pulled up his gun before the mangy vampire got over to him. "Nice effort," Nines jeered as he pulled the triggered and finished his would be attacker off, turing him into nothing more than a pile of ash, "but the execution need a little work." At this point Nines actually went to help up the other vampire in front of him. He was a bit caught of guard as this was the first time seeing this vampire childer up close for the first time. When he was in the theatre he was a little too far back to see the people on the stage clearly. Maybe it was because they haven't been living their second life for much longer than a week, but there was still a light in their eyes, that almost made them seem like they were still full of life. He quick recomposed himself and told them to come to Last Round if they wanted to talk to him about anything else. For as interesting as this kid seemed, he had to be sure that they weren't aligned with the Camarilla. Not to mention standing around where they're just had a scuffle with some Sabbat wasn't a smart idea. When he got back to the bar, he could tell that Damsel was upset about something, but that was actually something that he was used to. She was almost always upset about something, but usually one of the other Anarch could calm her down pretty easily. Whatever it was, the subject and direction changed to Nines when she saw him walk in the door. "Where the hell have you been, Rodrigez?!" She started with a snap, before noticing the grenade on his belt and continuing. "What is wrong with you? You can't just walk around the streets with a visible explosive! You've could have gotten a lot really bad attention aimed at us!" As much as Nines wanted to argue, he had to kind of agree; at least he could have hidden it better. But, before he could say anything, Jack called from where he was watching them upstairs, "Nines knows the, 'better safe than sorry policy,' kiddo. Don't worry 'bout it." Damsel just huffed as Nines went upstairs. "So, what were you doing?" Skelter asked once Nines had sat down in his usual chair. "Just walking around, scouting some things out. Had to save the new kid's ass again." Nines answered plainly. "New kid, huh? The one from the theatre? Don't know if I'd trust them yet. Kid's not coming here, are they?" Skelter asked in a way that let the others know that he was already starting to get in defensive mode for the possible visitor. "Maybe," Nines started as he looked blankly out the nearby window, "I was actually hoping so. We could use someone like that. From what I've heard that kid's resourceful and tough as nails." "Sounds like there might be some other reasons you want the kid here by the way you're talkin' about 'em." Jack laughed from the other side of the room. If it were anyone else they would already be on the floor begging for mercy from a well deserved beat down, but Nines new that Jack was the last person that anyone should try to fight. So, he just had to settle for a harsh glare instead. A few hours later Nines was talking to Jack about possible way they could try to hit the Camarilla where it would hurt the most, when Skelter called out to him from the stairs. "Nines, someone's here to see you." The self assigned bodyguard said as he stepped aside. Nines' lips tugged into a small smile as he saw the young vampire that he had to save twice now walking towards him with that same, almost live look in their eyes that made him think that they had something special that could really help out the Anrchs' cause if they could be convinced to join. Either way, things were about to get interesting.

[supernaturalgirl20]

La Secretaria

Pairings: Javier Pena x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, angst, fluff, men being sexist, mutual pining.

Summary: being Javier’s secretary isn’t easy. He’s hot headed, stubborn and aggressive, but so are you. What happens when he finally meets his match.

A/N: I wanted to writ pure smut for Javier, been in my feels today so I needed this.

{Comments and reblogs really appreciated}

You’d heard the rumours, of course you had. There wasn’t one person in the DEA that didn’t know about thee Javier Pena. Hot headed, stubborn, flirt with anything in a skirt and his number one MO, visiting the local brothel. Stechner hired you to keep a close eye on Javier, or as he put it ‘tame the beast’. He’d gone through at least six secretaries since he arrived in Bogotá, which didn’t give you great odds but you were nothing if not a trier.

You arrived at the office early wanting to have everything set up before he came. At nine on the dot Javier arrived and when he opened the door to his office he was shocked to see you standing there, coffee in hand. He narrows his eyes at you before you feel his gaze roam over you. He runs a hand over his face before placing his hands on his hips.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N, your new secretary Mr. Pena. I brought you you’re coffee and the file on the Rodriguez brothers. If you need anything else, I’ll be at my desk.”

He stares at you, if he was impressed, it didn’t show on his face. You walk towards the door, the one he’s standing in front of. You stop before him and look him in the eyes.

“Do you mind moving!”

His eyes lock with yours before glancing at your lips and then back to your eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just walks past you to his desk. Leaving the office you sit at your own desk and begin typing up some of his reports. The day passes quickly and as you get ready to go home, Javier pops his head out. “Where are you going? I haven’t finished for the day yet.”

“I can see that, Mr. Pena, but my schedule is 9-5, so seen as it’s 5:10 I’M finished for the day.”

You can tell he’s angry, see the thick in his jaw. “I have reports for you to type up, your schedule is whatever mine is, and I’m not done. So sit tight and type these up.”

“I will, in the morning. Goodnight Mr. Pena.”

“If you leave, your fired.” He has a sly smirk on his face, he’s waiting for you to put your things down and start working. He doesn’t know it yet, but your just as stubborn as him, so you call his bluff and leave. He quirks his eyebrow, he hadn’t expected you to disobey him.

***

The following morning Javier arrives to find you in his office again, files in one hand, coffee in the other.

“I fired you.”

“And yet here I am.” You hand him the file and coffee and walk out of his office. He’s speechless, and just stares after you. Continuing your work from the day before, your interrupted when an agent walks toward Javier’s door. Standing, blocking his way you put your hand out to stop him.

“He’s busy.”

“Who are you?”

“Mr. Pena’s secretary, and you are?”

“Agent Feistl, has he fucked you yet?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s a no then. Early days I suppose, or,” he looks you up and down, “hmm not really his type are you. He likes them skinny and pretty..”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You think I haven’t heard all this shit before, you don’t intimidate me what was it Fritsle?”

“It’s Feis..”

“I don’t care, your not getting in. You want to see him, make an appointment.”

Feistl grumbles under his breath.

“What was that?”

Before he can say it again, Javier opens his office door and stands beside you. He places a hand on your lower back, “ why don’t you head out for lunch?”

“That’s it princess, run along.”

You stare daggers at him grabbing your bag and leaving. Feistl turns to Javier who has a stern look on his face.

“What did you want, I’m busy.”

“I want to go to Cali boss.”

“No.”

“What, why not?”

“We’re not placing any agents there, not yet at least.”

“Right well if they do I’d like to go sir.”

“Mmm”

“Gotta say boss, that’s one fine piece of ass you got out there.You mind if I have a go?”

Javier can feel his blood boil, how dare he talk about you like that. Sure he has a reputation but he treated women with respect. He didn’t really know you that well but you could stand your own which he respected. Your different from the others, your intelligent, stubborn and your absolutely beautiful.

“Don’t talk about Y/N like that, if you harass her again I’ll have you on the next flight home.”

“Ok, you got it boss.”

***

It’s been two months since you became his secretary and he has fired you at least fifty times. You know it’s a challenge, that he is testing you, but you don’t give up easy. He’s started being kinder with you, offering to buy lunch on occasion. Your currently sat with him in the meeting room taking notes as the ambassador rambles on. He’s berating Javier for sending Feistl and VanNess to Cali and you can tell from his shoulders that he’s angry. When the meetings over he stands abruptly and leaves. You follow behind him, staying silent, knowing he likes it like this when he’s mad. He gets into the elevator and holds it open for you before pressing the correct button for your floor.

“He’s a dick.”

Javier wasn’t expecting you to say anything, certainly not that. You think you see a hint of a smile on his face.

“I think you did the right thing sending them, fucking bullshit deal, it’s a cop out..”

You don’t get to finish what you we’re saying as Javier pushes you back against the metal wall. He’s on you like a rash. He’s kissing you passionately and you can feel the heat coming off of him. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him. You can feel his growing erection straining against his trousers. You run your fingers through his hair pulling a low moan from him, one that shoots right to your core. You can feel the elevator come to a stop, Javier does too as he slowly pulls away from you. He whispers in your ear, “come find me later when everyone else is gone.” Then your alone.

***

Finishing up some paperwork, making sure no one is left in the office, you slowly approach Javier’s door. You raise your hand to knock when the door suddenly opens and he’s standing there looking at you with hooded eyes. He pulls you into him and once he closes the door, your back is pressed against it. His kiss is rough, hungry, like a man dying of thirst and your his only source of water.

“Wanted this for so long.”

“Really? How long?”

“Since that first day.”

He makes quick work of taking off both your clothes before moving you to the couch. He sits and pats his thighs, “come here baby, want you to ride me.” You walk towards him with sway of your hips. He grabs you by the hips, helping you straddle him. You sink down onto him slowly, savouring the feel of him stretching you. He groans at the feel of you hot and tight around him.

“So….damn tight baby.”

You start moving your hips slowly against him as he grips your hips tighter. He sucks on your hardened bud earning a moan from you.

“Javi….oh god….I’m going to…come.”

“That’s it baby come all over my cock. Wanna feel you grip me tight.”

Your body tingles all over as it erupts in ecstasy. You come hard with his name rolling off your tongue. He begins you thrust up meeting your movements as he grows impatient. Suddenly he flips you over, your back hitting the leather on the couch. He grabs one of your legs and holds it against his hip as he thrusts into you without abandon. You can feel the beginning of another orgasm,

“I’m close baby, want to feel you come on my cock one more time before I come.” He can feel you clamp down on him as your orgasm washes over you.

“So beautiful baby, who do you belong to?”

“Yours , all yours Javi.”

That’s all he needed as he releases into you. He slumps on top of you, careful as to not crush you. You run your fingers through his hair and he sighs at the feeling. He pulls out of you slowly and grabs a cigarette. You sit up and fiddle with your fingers unsure of what to do now. Do you stay or get dressed and leave? You know his reputation with women, he doesn’t do relationships. Deciding it’s best to leave you get up and start dressing. He sits there watching you as he smokes his cigarette.

“If you wait we can go get something to eat?”

“I…I actually just want to go home, I’m exhausted.” You gather your things, not noticing the hurt flash in Javier’s eyes.

“Yeah, I might hit the bar.”

You say nothing else as you leave for the night.

***

Your relationship with Javi is complicated, you work together and most nights you end up fucking in one apartment or the other. You love him, you know you do, you have for a while. You also know that Javi doesn’t do commitment, honestly your afraid to even tell him how you feel. In work things remain professional, he’s your boss and no one suspects a thing. Feistl might have a hunch but that’s it. The only time he claims you in work is after a bad meeting with the ambassador or Stechner. Which brings you to your current situation, bent over his desk, him pounding into you from behind. He’s rough today, not that you mind, he pulls you towards him by the hair until your back hits his chest. He grabs your breast and gives it a tight squeeze. It’s slightly painful but it still elicits a moan from you.

“Shh baby, gotta be quiet. Don’t want the whole office to know how well you take my cock.”

“It’s….just so….good.”

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come and you can feel another one hitting you. Javi is close too, you can tell from his sloppy thrusts.

“Can I…come inside you baby?”

“Yes….yes claim me, I’m yours.”

He’s quick to pull out of you and tuck himself back into his trousers. You pull down your skirt and put on your underwear. You both didn’t notice that Feistl had entered the room, catching you both fix yourselves up.

“I fucking knew it. You too have been fucking each other. VanNess you owe me 50 bucks.”

“Jesus will you keep it down.”

“How long has this been a thing?”

You don’t know what to say. It’s not really a thing you both just fuck each other nothing else, much as you would like. Javi comes up beside you placing his hand on your lower back. He pulls you into his side wrapping an arm around your waist. You look up at him stunned by his actions, only to find him already looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

“Not that’s it’s any of your business, but it’s been almost a year now, right baby?”

“Eh…”

“Screwing the boss is the only way you’ll get anywhere darlin.”

You feel Javier’s grip on you tighten and you know he is going to blow.

“I wouldn’t get to comfortable either, he’ll kick you to curb as soon as he gets bored.”

“You need to shut the fuck up, or you’ll be out of here by the end of the day. While we’re at it, don’t ever speak about Y/N like that, she’s better than half of you idiots. Now get out of my sight.”

When’s he’s gone Javier turns you in his arms so your facing him.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, did that just happen?”

“Don’t worry about him. I’m not good with this stuff, but I… I eh…look Y/N I want to be with you. Not just for a night or her in the office, like actually be with you.” He’s fidgety and you can tell he’s not used to talking about how he feels.

“Is thee Javier Pena asking me to be his girlfriend?” Your teasing him but there’s a part of you that hopes that’s what he wants.

“Well I wouldn’t say…”

How could you have been so stupid, of course he wouldn’t want that. You pull away from him and make your way to the door. He grabs your wrist and pulls you to him.

“Where are you going?”

“Look Javi, it’s fine, we’re fine, I know what we have isn’t anything special.”

“Hey hold on, did you not hear me when I said I wanted to be with you?”

“Yeah I did, but I am with you, we fuck..”

“You didn’t let me finish. What I was trying to say is that we don’t have to use those titles, I mean we’re not teenagers.”

“What. I….we….”

He’s getting annoyed now and runs his hand over his face, “ ok if it’s not what you want that’s fine.”

“No hey I want you Javi, I want to be your girlfriend. I just didn’t think you’d want that, I mean you don’t exactly scream commitment.”

He kisses you and it’s one of those kisses that leaves you breathless. Pulling away he rests his head against yours.

“I love you. This is all new to me, I’ve never felt this way about anyone, not even Lorraine. I’m all in, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“I love you too Javi.”

Tagging:

@lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @librariantothejedi @day-off-inkyoto @asta-lily @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @dindjarinneedsahug @pascal-rascal424 @pintsizemama @seasonschange-butpeopledont @janelongxox @stevie75 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dihra-vesa @loserrlauraa @kirsteng42 @ikinmahlen @almaeunice @jediknight122 @colorlesswhispersunknown @rosie-posie08 @alberta-sunrise @javierpinme @pascalisthepunkest

[wiypt-writes]

Rock ‘n’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 7- Disco Do

Intro: Your wedding day finally arrives…

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 9.3k (eek)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Yeah, this is basically a load of dirty Disco kinks rolled into one glorious smut fest, with a tiny bit of plot woven in. I’m not even sorry. Split over 2 parts as well as it was so damned long!

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist Part 6.2

A slow, lazy stretch moved through your body, like a cat waking from its nap. You sometimes wished you were a cat, envious of the way they could move and stretch their bodies with ease and comfort. Even the little amount you could stretch, filled your tired body with warmth and comfort.

You sat up in bed, your silk cami and shorts set smooth against your skin. You had a busy day ahead of you for today... today, you and Paul were finally taking your vows. It felt like an eternity to get to today. The time having passed with memories both good, bad and one or two ugly days, or weeks if you considered his shooting and road to recovery. But that was all in the past and what you had to look forward to was your future. Your future as Mrs. Y/N Diskant.

 As if his ears were burning, your phone pinged with a message. You reached for the bedside table and plucked it from the surface. A soft smile spread over your lips as you opened the message from Paul, and with a contented hum you replied:

 So far, it was perfect weather for a special day. Clear and crisp, with a high of 75, low breeze, nothing at all typical for a February day in California. You couldn't stop smiling as you stared out to your right, the ocean view across your balcony a beautiful sight at just after nine in the morning. 

 The Pacific Ocean brought a peace to you. The pier at which you spent so much time and built numerous memories with your soon to be husband just off to the right in the not so far distance to your suite. You thought of the numerous special dates the two of you had there, the days spent walking the shore, the cool ocean water running over your toes, the sand that would stick to your bodies and hair from the times you spent cuddling and kissing along the course earth. 

 There was a knock to the door of your room and then a shock of red hair appeared.

“Good morning!” Your childhood best friend and bridesmaid Natasha smiled at you, before the door opened wider to reveal your maid of honour, Rodriguez, also beaming. The two women were dressed in their pajamas, both sets made of shirts and camis, with the words bridesmaids tackily printed across the ass. Your wore your own matching bride set, a joke gift from them to you the night before as you’d settled into your suite for champagne, snacks and films.

 You grinned as they entered your room and both hopped onto your bed, settling down on the comfy, plush duvet.

 “Where’s Shaz?” You asked after Sharon, your other bridesmaid and former SWAT team member. 

 “Sleeping off the hangover, she drank way too much last night.” Natasha snorted.

 “Think she’s bothered about seeing Steve again, no matter what she says.” Ro smirked. 

 You rolled your eyes playfully. Sharon had dated Steve for a year or so, before they split up and she moved to Virginia after being recruited by the CIA. You knew she’d been devastated by the split, and hadn’t dated anyone seriously since. Steve on the other hand had moved onto Elphaba almost immediately

"I warned her," you sighed. "Damn do I hate that vicious green with envy bitch."

 “Fuck her.” Ro snorted.

 “I’ve still not forgiven her for implying my ass is fat.” You narrowed your eyes.

 “Panny, you hated her way before that.”

 “True but now I have a real reason when Paul tells me to let it go.” You shrugged.

 Natasha flung herself off the bed, "well, Elphabas aside, I'm ready for champagne!" She picked up the room phone, "who's ready for room service?"

 "Order the brunch spread, charge it to my room," a very hungover and slow moving Sharon said from the doorway, as she shuffled into the suite.

 “You look like shit.” You snorted. 

 "Thanks bitch, feel like it too," Sharon groaned.

 “You best pull it together.” You said, as Nat put the phone down and turned to you all with a grin.

 “Hair of the dog will level you up, Shazza. Champagne, brunch and orange juice ordered." 

 "Ugh, I don't think I've drank that much since your hen in Mexico," Sharon rolled onto your bed.

 "That was three weeks ago, what were you, a dry well since?" Ro poked at her.

 “She’s been a dry something.” Natasha quipped making you laugh loudly as Sharon flipped her off before collapsing face down.

 Before anyone could say anything else, you heard a key in the door to your room. All of you looked at one another and a few moments later, your mom whirled into the room. You quickly jumped out of bed and ran to her for a hug. 

“Hi Mom!” You beamed, your head resting on her shoulder. “How’s Daddy?" 

 "A royal mess, but your uncle has saved him and took him for a quick round of golf. He'll be better for a bit," she smiled.

 “I see you had no problem getting in?”

 “Nope.” Your mom stepped back. “To be honest, they didn’t even ask for ID when I said you’d left a key card for me. You should have words.”

 You snorted, “well who else would be trying to get access?”

 “Paul.” All three of your bridesmaids said in unison.

 You popped a shoulder with a laugh, "he's been under lock and key with Dottie since after rehearsal dinner, there's no way he'd make it this far without her realizing it."

  You blushed, "I can't wait to see him."

 You bit your lip, your thoughts straying to the journey you’d both been on to get here. Whilst in reality it had only been six or so months ago since you’d sat at the side of his bed, wondering whether he was going to live, it felt like a lifetime.

 After your little trip in November, the holidays sped by as you planned for today, rearranging designs and ideas, final fittings and adventuring off on your hen and his stag after the new year. Paul had settled back at work and that hadn't been an easy start. Nightmares plagued him the first few weeks before you'd finally convinced him he needed to go back to his therapist after a horrible reimagining of his shooting left you in his place and he yours. Paul waking you up with his scream of your name. 

It wasn't all bad, there were moments filled with joy and happiness but also frustration. You'd begun house hunting before Christmas and so far failed to find anything remotely in your budget or that was in the greatest of places. Just two weeks ago, the two of you had found a spectacular fixer upper but after a few days of negotiations, and number crunching, you'd realized it wasn't going to pan out. Secretly, you'd driven by it every day since finding it, whilst you and Paul had driven by together at various times to get a feel for the neighborhood and its activity. It was honestly the most perfect house, even showing your parents in the excitement of it. 

 “Earth to Y/N…” Rodriguez snapped her fingers in front of your face, jolting you back from your pondering and you shook yourself out of it, today was a happy day. Everything would work out for you both, one way or the other.

 "Sorry!" You smirked.

There was a knock at your door and Natasha stood, grinning. “That’ll be the champagne. I told them to send it up before the food."

"Oh good!" Sharon whined, "Hair of the dog time."

With a playful roll of your eyes you made your way into the living area of the suite ready to officially start your day. 

**********

 Paul was a bundle of jittery excitement, so much so he could barely sit still, nor sleep in. He woke up early and went for a run, he'd have hit the weights at the training gym but his mom had taken his keys after rehearsal dinner last night. So the run it was, leaving his best man Barnes, and his groomsmen Sam and Barton to sleep in.

Tony, Paul's childhood friend who'd flown in from out of country two nights ago, and the instigator of most of the booze provided last night, was sitting with Big Jim and Dottie over coffee as he'd come in, a sweating, red mess. 

"So he wakes and joins us all on this special day," Tony announced as if he were a court jester, the fake English accent to go with. 

“Fuck off, Sparky.” Paul rolled his eyes as he walked to the fridge for a bottle of water. “Been up for hours.”

Dottie laughed, "oh, honey, there's lots of time."

“This is why I wanted to get married at midday.” Paul grumbled. “I can’t wait until 3:30!”

“Erm, weren’t you the one that suggested a mid-afternoon one to allow for your ‘sore head’ which you were anticipating this morning?” Big Jim looked at him.

"Not the point, Dad," Paul groaned. "Signing our certificate last week was torture. I wanted to drag her through the Justice of the Peace right then." 

"Awe, isn't it cute, Paul's in love," Barnes teased as he appeared from inside the house.

“And you’ve only just noticed?” Tony arched his brow.

"Paul, why don't you go shower and I'll get breakfast going," Dottie offered. "That'll help pass the time. We'll leave here close to one to get there."

“One?” Tony frowned, “what the hell do we want to leave that early for?”

“Tony Stark stop winding him up! It's Los Angeles on a Saturday,” Dotty pointed at the man quickly, as Paul had just opened his mouth to quip back. “Paul, go. Shower.”

With a final, childlike groan, Paul left the kitchen and as he reached the top of the stairs he saw Barton emerging from the spare room he and Barnes had crashed in.

“Good morning Mr Y/L/N.” He quipped and Paul gave him a sarcastic laugh as he headed into the bathroom.

After a hot shower, Paul slipped into his jeans and a tee, foregoing a ball cap for the day and tredged downstairs, his nose following the sweet smell of his mom's cooking.

“Hey, man!” Wilson stood from his chair and pulled Paul into a bro hug, “how you doing?”

“Nervous as hell.” Barnes answered for him and Paul rolled his eyes.

"They have Valium for that," Tony chided.

“Errr, enough of that thank you!” Dottie glared at him. “Absolutely not!”

 "Yes ma'am," Tony sulked as he was being scolded.

"Now, eat up, the lot of you still need to shower. Jim and I have a room at the hotel for tonight, you'll get dressed in there." Dottie looked at the clock.

At that Paul perked up and he glanced at his mom who shook her head. 

“You’ll be under close guard, so don’t even think about sneaking off to try and see Y/N!”

"Not even a peek?" He smiled with a pinch measurement of his fingers.

 “Son, it’s bad luck to see your bride beforehand.” Big Jim chuckled.

 “If you ask me, Y/N already got all the bad luck marrying this dolt.” Tony pointed at Paul as he sat down.

 “Where’s your girlfriend, Sparky?” Paul bit back. “Oh yeah, you can’t find one willing to put up with your shit.”

 “Don’t want one.” Tony shrugged.

 "That explains so much," Dottie shook her head. "Your poor mother, no grandchildren."

 "That’s what Katie's for." Tony laughed.

 “How is your sister doing anyway?” Big Jim looked at Tony.

 “Married to some mechanic that she met when she was travelling.” Tony sniffed. “One adopted sorta step kid and one of their own on the way.”

 “I told you this.” Paul looked at his Dad who frowned.

 “Did you?”

 “Yeah!”

 “Huh.” Big Jim shrugged, before he chuckled. “Man, doesn’t seem five minutes since you were all running around outside.”

 “Yep, well, she’s all grown up. Perfect little villa, hallmark family in Pinellas.” Tony shrugged. “He’s a good guy, Frank. Mind you, Mom was convinced for years she was gonna end up with you.” He nodded to Paul, a smirk on his face.

 Paul choked on his coffee as Barnes looked at him, a shit eating grin spread across his face. “Oh no way…”

 “Shut up.” Paul snapped.

 “That’s THE Katie? The one who popped your cherry? You boned your friend's sister?” Barnes sniggered.

 "Didn't I just say shut up, Jimmy?" Paul glared. “Jesus man, my Mom is here!”

 "Like I didn't know," Dottie teased.

“It was ten years ago…”

 “And then you moved onto Tracy, was it?” Tony asked.

 “Tanya.” Jim corrected.

 “And goodness knows how many countless one nighters in between.” Dottie laughed and Paul groaned, his head dropping into his hands. “You must have thought I was stupid, all those times you came up with random names of so called friends who’s houses you were crashing at after a night on the town!”

 "Jesus, Mom. That was three girls. My number was small before Y/N. Now Barnes, let's talk about his number, what is it now buddy, three-forty-five?" 

 Barnes shrugged, “I stopped counting after three-thirty.”

 "Heathens, you boys are heathens." Dot sighed. 

 “Well, could be worse, you could be like Rogers.” Barton sniggered. “Dates the same girl for years, finishes it, then gets saddled with the wicked witch of the west.”

“Who was married at the time…” Sam added.

“Woah, hang on…” Big Jim held his hand up. “Karen was married?”

 Sam nodded. “They say nothing happened until he has finished with Sharon and Karen had separated from her husband but six months later they’re engaged? I call bullshit. Dirty bastard.”

 “Yeah, there was totally an overlap.” Paul shrugged. “That all happened way too fast.”

 “No wonder Y/N hates Karen so much. I’m surprised she gets in as well with Steve given all this.” Jim blinked and Paul shrugged.

 “Well, he’s her Captain. Don’t think she has much choice and in fairness, Sharon wasn’t completely faithful to him, was she Barnes?”

 At that Jimmy looked away and Big Jim groaned.

 “Jesus Christ…”

 “Sharon... Karen, hmmm that rhymes.” Tony quipped and sniggers rang round the table.

 “Sharon is such a lovely girl,” Dottie sighed, “And Steve, well, he always comes across as such a quiet, nice, respectable man. Clearly there’s more to them both, huh?”

 “Yeah well, Paul always came across as the opposite but look where we are!” Tony grinned, clapping his shoulder. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

 "You're such an asshole," Paul chuckled and shook his head.

 "On that note, you boys need to shower and get ready to go, we're leaving in two hours. Just enough time for us all to get cleaned up and packed up." Dot pushed the men along. 

 **********

As promised, Dottie and Jim had their son at Shutters on the Beach just after 1:30, hitting little to no traffic on their way. They collected their room keys and with the help of the groom’s party, all garment bags and luggage were carted in.

 Jim and Dot's room was on the second floor, overlooking the direction of the pier, a peaceful but bright view once the sun were to go down. Dot sorted the tuxes while Big Jim grabbed beers for all the guys to sip as they dressed. Guests were set to start arriving just before 3:00.

 Now that he was actually at the venue, Paul's excitement and nerves had hit an absolute peak. He knew that he would need to be down at the balcony in roughly an hour or so, ready to start welcoming the guests, but he couldn’t concentrate, not knowing he was in the same building as his soon to be bride.

Maybe, just maybe, he could slip out whilst no one was watching and head up? If he only spoke to you through the door, he wouldn’t see you, then there was no bad luck or breaking of tradition…

 Yep, that's what he was going to do, just very quietly sneak to the door and slip out. No one would....

"Son," Big Jim's hands clapped over Paul's shoulders, "come on. An hour is all that's left." He chuckled.

Paul groaned and pouted his way through the room. 

In time, Big Jim was dressed, his suit to match the groomsmen, as was Dottie, her dress an elegant cream colored gown with a shimmery bolero, allowing Paul and his groomsmen to get ready. While Tony wasn't a groomsman, he was Paul's childhood best friend and stuck out the day with his bud, getting ready himself there in the room. 

 Their suits were simple, all black with a white dress shirt, white pocket swatch with dusty pink boutonnières, skinny black ties and black dress shoes. All fitted to each man perfectly. 

 Paul, expectantly, was the first fully dressed and ready, his hands in his pockets as he stood out on the balcony of his parents room, looking around across the beach, the pier in his view. 

That pier, it held so much value to him. It's where you had their first date and many thereafter. It was where you took him in his darkest moment. It was where he first realized he was in love with you, but couldn't tell you for he was scared to. It was where, late one night, under its pillars, with great risk of getting into trouble, he brought you to bliss more than once, first with his hands, then his.... He smirked at the memory. 

He glanced down at his watch and saw the time. It was close, but not close enough. He sighed and headed back inside the cool room. 

 Jim studied his son for a moment before he grabbed two beers from the bucket and handed him one. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

 Paul’s face split into a hopeful look and Jim shook his head. “And we’re going absolutely nowhere near the bridal suite.”

 "Damn it."

 "Dot, we'll be back," Jim called into his room before closing the door. "Paul, I'm really proud of you son."

Paul turned to look at his dad as they made their way down the corridor. “Thanks, Dad.”

Jim pushed open the door, which led to the stairs, knowing full well he wouldn’t stand still in an elevator. "You've set yourself up with a great life, and you've found a great girl that loves you so much."

“Yeah she’s…” Paul took a deep breath, “she’s far too good for me, I know. Barnes has already been joking about her ditching me at the alter when she realises she could do better.”

"Never gonna happen." Jim chuckled.

“I know,” Paul grinned as they reached the floor their wedding was to take place on, “I got no worries about that at all. Barnes is a dick.”

"And she's only got eyes for you."

They settled up to the bar and Big Jim ordered two scotches.

 "I'm nervous, Dad."

 “Really?” Jim replied, drily, “I’d never have guessed.”

 "I just want to do right by her. Make her happy. It's no secret that I see what you and Mom have and I can only hope to live up to half that with Y/N."

 “Son, you only saw the good bits of me and your mom. Lord knows we had our ups and downs, and some really tough times. All that stuff with Junior,” Jim sighed, “she thought I was far too hard on him, and maybe I was but… marriage, it ain’t easy. Loving each other isn’t enough. You’ve got to want to love each other, if that makes sense. You’ve got to really want to make it work, because the minute you lose that, then no matter how much you still care for one another, you might as well walk away.”

 Paul nodded, "Yeah, I get it." He sighed, there was one thing missing from today that he found himself desperately wishing he had. "You know, I wish he was here. He would have loved her."

 Jim chuckled, “yeah he would. Although they would have violently disagreed about his aversion to pickle on a burger.”

 Paul roared with laughter, "among other things." He finished off his beer just as the bartender arrived with their scotches.

 The bartender placed two tumblers of scotch in front of them and Jim dropped a twenty on the bar. "Cheers to you, son. I hope that you and Y/N have the best life you can offer each other and know that your mom and I will always be there for you both."

 Paul smiled. “Cheers, Dad. And for the record, despite what you just said, I think you and mom did a pretty good job overall. If me and Y/N are half as strong together as you are, we’ll be fine.”

 “Son, I’ve got absolutely no doubts you will be. The pair of you are made for each other.”

 They knocked back their glasses and embraced.

 "Now, let's get you married," Jim slapped him on the back.

"'Bout fucking time," Paul beamed.

**********

 You glanced at the time, there was fifteen minutes left before you were to be staged up for your walk down the aisle. The moment was finally here and you couldn't have been more excited. If you felt this tight flutter feeling in your stomach, you could only imagine how Paul had felt. 

 Today started your forever, and that was perfectly all right by you. 

 You parents were in the room with you; your dad dressed in his suit that looked just like Big Jim's, your mom in a champagne colored sequin square cut with capped sleeves, full length dress, and waiting for you just outside was your wedding party, your guests and your man. But a soft tug at your shoulder brought you face to face with your dad. 

 “Daddy...." you looked up at the man who you loved first. 

 He took in a slow breath, "you look so beautiful." His emotions were getting to him as his eyes pooled with tears. 

 "Dad, don't," you spluttered. "I'll mess my make up to hell."

 Your mom gently handed you a tissue, “I got plenty, don’t worry. And Ro has all the stuff to touch you up if we need to.”

 "Your mom and I couldn't be more proud of the daughter we've raised." Nick sniffled.

 “Dad…”

 “It’s true.” Maria sniffed a little. “Everything you’ve made for yourself…I’m not gonna lie, your job still scares me to half to death…” she smiled and you gave a splutter of a laugh, “we love you, our beautiful baby.”

 "I love you guys, so much," you now choked up. "Thank you for everything, always."

 There was a knock on your door and your mom went to answer. Your coordinator poked herself in and said, "You ready?" 

 “Never been more ready for anything in my life.” You whispered, nodding.

**********

 The time it took to get to this moment felt like an eternity. Years in the making, but worth every single bump in the road and wrong turn. From the moment you met to your adventures together, from the nightmare of the last year and most recently his subsequent nightmares and return to work, Paul had a lifelong partner through it all. 

Paul stood there among their murmuring guests, anxiously awaiting as he watched the wedding party come down the aisle. His parents and your mother had been down just before he and their officiant. His buddies were next, first Sam, as he escorted Sharon, then Barton as he hooked elbows with Natasha and finally came Barnes, with Rodriguez smiling next to him. The girls looked beautiful in their full length dusty rose colored satin dresses, each with their own necklines of their choosing, bouquets of white peonies and greenery. 

As his cousin's son and your cousin's daughter started their way down, bearing rings and rose petals, Paul glanced around at the beautiful designs that had been put together, the way the aisle was lined with pillar candles in lanterns, greenery separating the chairs from the white carpet rolled out. How the dusty pink and cream roses, white hydrangeas and white peonies smelled so aromatic among the scent of the crisp ocean waves as they were tucked and wrapped around the archway with more greenery. Even his dusty rose bud boutonnière emitted the faintest rose smell. 

 His eyes kept glancing towards the stairs where you would be coming from and back towards his best friend and groomsmen. They'd been through hell together, the lot of them, and he wouldn't have any other men by his side. Except for James, that was his missing piece. But he knew he was there with him. A special seat was carved out in the front row for him as well as his grandparents and yours. Three chairs on his side, two on yours, votive candles lit next to framed pictures of those who couldn't be with you today. A small scattering of greens and petals to give the memorials a bit of a pop. 

 Paul Diskant had never felt more at peace in his in than he did at that moment as a calm washed over him as the wedding march began. 

 His baby blue eyes saw the first glimpses of you as you had started descending the upper portion of the deck, your pretty face barely above the railing wall, your father walking with you on your left. Then as you turned to make that final descent, you took his breath away, literally. 

 His hand flew to his chest and his eyes brimmed with tears as the happiest grin spread over his lips.

Your stunning white dress looked soft as it hugged you in all his favorite places. Thin straps melted away into a deep v-neckline as the material fit your frame until it started to loosen at your thighs, flowing in a trumpet shape. Your hair was pinned back at the base of your neck with some pieces delicately framing your face and your eyes shined brightly behind soft romantic colors, your lips kissable and dusty pink like the flowers you carried.

 It was as if nothing else mattered around him, tunnel vision only trained on his Sugar. And the closer you got, the more emotional he felt. And when your eyes truly met his up close, he had to take a steadying breath just to take your hand as your mom and dad gave you away. 

 "You look so beautiful," he spluttered as you took his elbow. "I love you." 

 Tearfully, you looked at him and smiled, "I love you, too."

 And as the officiant recounted your love story for their guests, all he could do was look at you, and you him, pure love radiating from his soul into yours. He smiled so softly at you as your story reached the last six months and you grew deeply emotional about the incident, his hand coming up to brush away a falling tear. Your guests sighing at the affection. 

 "Paul and Y/N wanted to skip the traditional vows and write their own, so Paul, if you will."

 You turned away from your officiant and handed Rodriguez your bouquet, allowing Paul to get a great look at the back of your dress. A dramatic cowl back, scooping low as delicate buttons lined the center seam to just below your seat. He realized then, there was no possible way you had anything on under that wedding dress and if you did, it was thin as hell. 

As you turned back to Paul, taking both his hands in yours for your vow exchange, your eyes caught his flicking back up your body, your ears hearing "Oh Sugar," as he smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully as a few titters off laughter rose from those close enough to hear. 

 “Paul, for goodness sake.” Dottie sighed

 He popped a shoulder, "Sorry, Mom."

 He flashed you a single wink and you beamed back at him. He’d always been cheeky to a fault and it was one of the many things you adored about him. You squeezed his hands, pulling him back into your moment. He eyed the officiant who nodded back to him to get started. 

"Not many people get second chances in life. Six months ago, I wasn't expected to see another day. But I was given a second chance, and I've spent each waking moment of every day since, blessed to see your beautiful face every morning, grateful for every breath I take and thankful you still chose me to live forever with. I promise to always be there for you, for us, in all the good times and bad, the best days, the ugly days. I promise to squeeze the toothpaste the right way and to do the dishes each night. I promise to give you the same love I have for you each and every day, in any way I can. I promise to continue this and so much more, because it's you and me forever, beautiful."

 "Y/N..." the officiant smiled. 

 You let out a long breath, lightly licking your lips, "they say don't meet your heroes, because they never quite reach the pedestal you put them on. What they don't tell you is that when you do meet them, they can change your entire life. Today, I get to marry my hero. I'm marrying the man who sees me for me, flaws and all. I'm marrying the person who I aspire to be, who inspires me to give my best each and every day. Who makes me laugh and wipes my tears. Who understands coming home after a bad day on beat because he has them too. Who annoys the hell outta me but also breathes life into me. Today, I marry my best friend, my partner, the man I love above all else. Today, I become forever yours."

 Your eyes were already pooling with tears again as the emotion of your vows and hearing his was uncomfortable. A tear slipped down his face and you brushed it away, "I love you, Stud."

 He licked his lips and mouthed he loved you too. His voice not reaching his throat. 

 The officiant turned to Barnes and asked for the rings, to which he kneeled down as Paul's cousins little boy happily thrust the pillow at him. The crowd chuckled as Barnes took them and handed them to the officiant. 

 The exchange of rings happened with Paul declaring his further promises to you as he slipped your white gold raw diamond band over your finger to match your engagement ring. And as you beamed brightly, declaring the same promises as he did moments before, you slid his thick and wide brushed rhodium band over his knuckle and rubbed your thumb along it. 

 "That's all she wrote, folks. By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you to be Mr. and Mrs. Diskant." There was a steady and dramatic pause as you waited for the cue. You grinned at Paul who raised his brows, waiting for it. Then you both turned your heads to the officiant expectantly, "Well, what are you waiting for? Kiss your bride!" 

 Paul’s brow flicked up slightly as he reached out, both his hands curling over your hips. You couldn’t help the huge smile on your face as he pressed his lips to yours. Your palms rested on each of his cheeks as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. His arms slid round you and you heard him give a little groan as his large hands splayed over the bare skin of your back. But thankfully, no one else did as the entire group had erupted into cheers and applause.

You broke free from your steamy, vow-sealing kiss and giggled happily as you beamed at Paul. Ready to return down the aisle now as Mrs. Diskant, you turned to Ro and took back your bouquet.

 He took your left hand in his right as your exit song of choice struck up and with a deep breath you both took your first steps as a married couple. You beamed happily at everyone as you passed, smiling broadly at Steve as he flashed you a wink, even the sour faced bitch he was married to managed a half grimace.

 “Sugar, your ass looks great in that dress.” Paul spoke loudly, and you turned to look at him, knowing exactly why he had chosen that moment to say it. You blinked, before you burst out laughing as the pair of you continued your way to the steps you'd last walked down as an unmarried woman, but not before your photographer stopped the two of you for a playful kiss, your guests on their feet and the sun setting altar behind you. 

 "I fucking love you, baby," Paul grinned in a childlike manner as his forehead pressed to yours. 

 As your guests cleared the lower deck for cocktails and passed appetizers, you, your new husband and your wedding party took your photos. It was a time consuming process, making sure you collected the shots you wanted and your photographer getting creative. The two of you even headed into the sand for some important keepsake photos with the lit pier in the background, the place where your journey really began.

 Finally, while cocktail hour wound down and guests were escorted into the top deck, ocean view dining hall for dinner and dancing, with all the wedding amenities combined, you and Paul were giving some time alone together.

 “Let’s get a drink.” He whispered in your ear, hand planted at the base of your spine, “just the two of us.”

 "I'd love to."

 He gently guided you through the sand deck, both of you stepping out into the restaurant, which led to the quieter bar. He kissed you gently as you stepped up and waited for the bartender, a patron nearby congratulating you. The bartender placed two flutes of champagne in front of you, compliments of the house. 

 The pair of you took a moment to yourselves, both still not quite registering the fact that you had finally made it, after everything. By the time you had finished your drinks, twenty or so minutes has passed and you sighed. 

 “Is it wrong that I kinda just want to stay with you on our own for a bit longer?” You looked at Paul and he chuckled, shaking his head.

 “Nope, because frankly the only person I give a shit about being with right now is you, Mrs Disco.”

 “Mrs. Disco… I think I prefer that to Diskant.”

 "Me too," he smirked, stealing another kiss.

 “Sadly, we’re gonna hold that thought.” You sighed before you smiled, “come on Stud, time to party.”

 "Nope," he stood and yanked you from the bar.

 “Paul!” You stumbled a little as he tugged you behind him, “what are you doing?”

 You only had one floor to go up to greet your guests so where he was stealing you away to, you had no clue.

“We cannot be late for our own reception.” You arched your brow as he hit the pad at the side of the elevator, not even looking at the floor he had selected.

 “It’s our reception, yes we can.”

 You felt the elevator head down as his lips kissed over your jaw, nipping at that spot behind your left ear whilst his right hand slid down from you hip and over your shapely ass. 

 “Paul…”

 "Hmmmm," he hummed down your neck, his hand moving over your thigh, looking to hook your knee over his hip.

 “If you ruin this dress…”

 "You" a kiss to your shoulder, "have no idea," a nip to your collar bone, "what you're doing to me," he tried to get that knee, "fuck, Sugar."

 The crepe fabric moved easily once he tugged at the long train, pushing the material up your leg, the length of it still cascading down your thigh as his fingers curled around your ankle, pulling you close.

 The heel of your sandal pumps pressed into his lower back through his jacket as your right hand snaked up his chest and around his neck, your manicured nails scratching at the hairs at his nape.

 “Paul, just…”

 His lips on yours cut off your half-assed protests and you melted into him as his hand slid back up your leg, hooking your knee round his hip.

 Suddenly, as the elevator stopped on the basement floor, you felt it rise again. But you couldn't have cared less, your tongue was half down your husband's throat as his hand teased at your thigh.

 And with a ding, you broke apart, Barnes voice echoing inside the cube, "Fuck guys, just wait until we at least have dinner."

 You hastily straightened your dress as Paul smoothed down his jacket and shirt. 

 "Waiting on you two," Barnes joked.

 "Fuck off," Paul teased Barnes. 

 You made it to the dining room just as your names were being called, you catching your flowers as Rodriguez dropped them in your hand as you walked by.

 From there, the night whizzed by. One minute you were dancing to your first song, a beautifully soft rendition of Stand By Me, as dinner was starting to be served and then you were sitting down listening to toasts and roasts made by your dad, Barnes, Rodriguez and Tony. You kissed as silverware clinked against glass, you beamed as you and Paul stared so deeply into each other's eyes, the whole night just being about the two of you.

You had cake and you danced with your dad and Paul with Dottie. You tossed your flowers and Paul threw your garter, taking a spin with Barnes just after. Big Jim escorted you away as your mom stole Paul and eventually you worked the room in between as your feet got sore.

 You sat and talked with Sam and his wife, Amber, whilst Steve and Karen listened in. It didn’t escape your notice how Steve’s eyes more than occasionally strayed to Sharron, who was getting quite cozy to Barnes. It also didn’t pass Elphaba by either, her face seemingly perpetually arranged in an expression that made her appear she was eating a thistle.

 You felt that familiar touch to your skin as Paul came behind you, looking for your ear, "We’re wanted babe." He hiccuped and smiled, "Mom and Dad want to speak to us before we get too drunk." 

 You glanced up at him as you turned in your seat, "Which one?" 

 "All of em," he said with a tinge of pink to his nose and cheeks. 

 "Oh, okay," you smirked and with a shrug, excused yourself from their table.

 Paul took your hand in his and your made your way over to where your parents were sat with Jim and Dottie. "What’s up?”

 "We have something we want to give you before the moment loses itself," Dottie smiled.

 You and Paul exchanged a look as you both sat at the table. Jim slid an envelope over to you both.

 “That says my name on it… but it’s from all of us.”

 Now you were really confused.

 Paul slid a finger under the sealed tab and opened the envelope, pulling out a folded paper with a check. You watched him as his eyes scanned the printed text, his eyes welling quickly as he looked at both sets of your parents.

 You reached over for it and took it, your eyes flicking to the amount it was for and your hand flew to your mouth. “Holy shit.”

 "We wanted you guys to have that towards your down. We know how much you both love that house in Reseda, and we think it's the perfect starter home for you to build your family in." Your dad smiled softly as he took his wife's hand.

 “There’s a hundred grand here…” you whispered.

 “Yeah, fifty from each side.” Jim smiled. 

 “But you already helped us so much with all this…” you waved your hands around and your dad simply shrugged.

 “We want to see you enjoy your inheritances and make the most of it instead of simply getting it all when we die.”

 “Blunt as ever, Nick,” Paul sniffed and you spluttered.

 “Thank you all, so much.”

"The realtor is expecting your call on Monday, the sellers are in no rush. They know you're getting married today."

 You were lost for words, as was Paul. You could do nothing but gape at the check in your hand, and then at your parents. 

 Tearfully, you shook your head as it still was settling in. Then you looked at your husband, "We're buying a house!"

 “Yeah… and I’m gonna spend every weekend for the next year of my life doing it up.” He grinned. “I can’t wait!”

 "We're going to fix her up," you grinned.

 "You're getting a pool, baby," Paul kisses you tenderly.

 “A pool?” You looked at him, “where the hell are you gonna put a pool?”

 "That big dirt patch in the backyard, it's the perfect spot." He dreamed.

 “Looks like we started something…” Jim grinned. 

 "We sure did," Nick shook his hand.

 You jumped from your seats and exchanged tight, long hugs with all four of them before leaning into Paul as he tucked the check into his jacket pocket.

 "Uh, why don't you let your mother hold onto that, just for the weekend." Big Jim chuckled, pulling it from Paul's pocket.

“Yeah, erm… good idea.”

*****

 Before you knew it, your reception was near its end and as you finished another ladies room break, Rodriguez having to help you for the fifth time that night, you came out to find your husband, his father, your father, Barnes and Tony, sat around a table, their jackets gone and ties loosened, scotch tumblers in hand. 

 "Where's Nat?" You asked as you sat upon Paul's lap.

 "Oh she left, with Barton, about twenty minutes ago." He sniggered.

 “No way.” You scoffed. “I didn’t have him down as her type.”

 "If anything, I figured at least Banner from CSI would have snuck in there." Paul chuckled, his hand coming from resting across your ass to ghosting up and down your bare back.

 It was then that Sharon closed the space between her and Bucky, slipping her key card into his jacket pocket. You just looked at her as she winked back at you and shook your head, rolling your eyes. 

Paul’s hand gently curled around the back of your neck and you turned your attention to him. “Can we leave our party now, babe?”

"I don't know, can we?" 

 “Well… more or less everyone else has gone.”

 "I think it's safe to say you're free to go," Rodriguez smirked, looking around at the place. Most of the guests were gone, your parents were loading up the gifts to store in the car overnight and all that remained were the boozers hanging around the bar.

 “Don’t need to tell me twice.” Paul stood up quickly with you in his arms, causing you to shriek as you quickly clung to his neck. 

 Paul titled his head up and kissed your lips as you bent down to meet him half way, "what do you say, Mrs. Disco?"

 “Let’s go, Stud.”

 You slipped out of his arms and made quick rounds of goodbyes to your group of friends, smacking a sweet kiss to Barnes' cheek as you left them. The two of you caught your parents before you went up, thanking them immensely for their contributions to your special day and your future. The truth of it was, you couldn't express that enough. You made your way to the elevator, thanking the various members of staff that were still bustling around and collecting glasses.

 And then it was just the two of you, officially husband and wife, your tired feet barefoot as you waited for the lift, your hands wrapped around Paul's left hand and wrist. In his right he carried your shoes, the sling back straps hooked to his fingers.  It was something he had done many a time for you after a night out, ended up with your shoes in his hand but tonight, it felt different. And you knew why.

 Because of those bands on your fingers.

 You gently raised Paul’s hand to your lips and pressed a kiss over his ring.

 The lift arrived and you went up, the second floor, and out the hall to your left, teetering as you walked hand in hand, your head resting against Paul's bicep. When you arrived at your beachfront suite, you let Paul open the door but before you could step inside, he quickly grabbed you, hoisting you in his arms and carrying you through the threshold, your giggling muted by his lips on yours.

 You heard your shoes drop to the hard wood floor of your suite as you were carried inside. You giggled again against Paul's lips as he opened his eyes to see where he was going. He hadn't been in to see the space yet and found himself a bit confused as to where to go. But he managed and found his way, slipping through the parlor, his forehead against yours, as you made it into your room.

 The sky was dark as he nestled you down to the floor, your bare feet touching the rug beneath you. The moon over the water sent a blue glow through your room.

 “Now, Mrs Diskant…” his hands smoothed up your back, his lips nipping at yours. “What are we gonna do?”

 "You're gonna dick me down, Mr. Diskant," you said softly, but lowly. A rasp to your voice.

 He groaned, kissing you deeply before his mouth moved to that spot beneath your ear. “Turn round, baby.”

You slowly turned and as you did, you pulled the pins from your hair, feeling his lips against your shoulders and down your spine. A shuffle of fabric was heard as you realized he'd stripped of his jacket and tossed it across the bed.

You shuddered as his fingers delicately brushed up and down your spine, his touch barely there, but you felt everything. It hitched your breath as he went, his lips reached that cowl of your dress and you felt his hands run over your ass. You looked down over your shoulder, finding him on his knees, staring at the buttons on your seam.

He reached up and pooped the first one, then the second and frowned. “What… why isnt…”

“It’s a zip.” You chuckled. “There’s a zip under the buttons.”

 "Oh fuck," he chuckled lowly. Deftly, he found the miniature zip and pulled the piece down the teeth, the dress loosening from your hips, answering the question he'd had on his mind since you walked down the aisle. No, you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

 “Baaabe.” He whined as he stood up, his fingers sliding along the straps, which sat on your shoulders. He hooked a fingertip under each, locking it down with his knuckles and pulled, the white crepe fabric peeling away from your skin like clouds thinning in the sky, giving way to your naked body.

“Oh, Sugar…” Paul’s voice was thick as he swallowed, his hands creeping round the front of your body. His hands flattened against your stomach as he pulled you towards him, your bare back pressing into the fabric of his shirt. 

"All yours, Stud," as you reached your left arm back, leaning into your right side, titling your head to kiss him as you ran your fingers over that scar just sitting under his loose collar and tie, to behind his neck. He let out a soft moan into your mouth and spun you round to face him, his lips urgently caressing your own.

From then on it was a scramble between the pair of you to get him out of his clothes as fast as you could.

His built frame, back to what it was before the shooting, backed you into the edge of the bed and swallowed you up as he caged you in, your back led against the duvet. He stood, his feet planted in the rug as his fists held his body bent at the hips above you. His lips covered yours in a filthy heated kiss, his tongue a welcomed weight in your mouth. 

“Get comfy, Sugar…” he whispered against your lips, “coz you ain’t going anywhere for a while.”

The flutter that sent through your body was electrifying and you whimpered.

Paul chuckled and moved back to allow you to shuffle up the bed and settle yourself against the pillows. You were sure he could feel your wet heat against the head of his cock as he caged you in. Your teasing through the night and flirtatious behavior had you already soaked before he took your dress off, and now, you were near dripping.

Shuffling over you, Paul pressed his lips to yours, before he moved his mouth to your jawline, down your neck, leaving soft, hot kisses on your skin as he went. You again whimpered and moaned as your body ignited in sensory overload from his touch.

His lips continued downwards, his tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat before his affections turned to your collarbone. With a gentle shift of his body, he went even lower still, his hands sliding along your ribcage before he cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. At that, you gave a slightly louder groan, your body arching into his touch.

Knowing he liked the way you sounded, he did the same thing again just so you'd moan louder and you did, this time as you arched your knees coming up against his hips. With his right hand he traced down your bent left leg, the pads of his fingers skating the outside of your thigh as his mouth gently teased at your right breast.

Your nails bit into his neck as they scratched at his spot, a shudder rolling through him as you felt goose flesh appear across his skin. He trailed his hand across your belly, and then your soft whimpers became a harsh gasp as his fingers skimmed your mound, which was hairless thanks to your dress. Paul let out a groan as he felt the smooth skin, which vibrated against your already sensitive nipple.

You were almost ready to blow simply from the build-up he was putting you through so when you felt his fingers enter you, curling softly against your insides, you felt your walls flutter. Paul let out a pleased chuckle as he felt that flutter, his fingers continuing in that hooked, soft thrusting. "So wet, baby," he kissed against your breast.

Your pelvis began to move in time with the rhythm of his hand, seeking out more and more as you felt that warmth pooling in the pit of your belly and thighs. Paul let out a groan of his own, moving his hand so the heel of his palm brushed against your clit. And with a nip to your other breast as he pushed against your clit, you were gone, your walls squeezing around his fingers as you ground out an "Oh fuck" in a pitch you didn't recall you could.

His hand continued to coax you through your high as you fell, blood pounding in your ears. When your tremors of pleasure subsided, you heard Paul’s deep timbre.

“Good, baby?”

You managed some kind of garbled response as you turned your head, locking your lips with his once more, in a searing kiss. Your hand slid between you and you wrapped your hand around his rock hard cock. Paul jolted a little as you gave a squeeze and a flick of your wrist, his head falling back in pleasure as he held himself over you.

“Need you.” His voice was low with desire as he pressed his lips back to your neck, nipping at the spot beneath your ear. “Want you.”

You lined him up, dragging his tip over your sensitive slit, a tickle to your clit as you dragged him back to your waiting hole. With a shallow tilt of his hips, his shaft slipped away from your hand as it disappeared inside you. A shaky sigh and a moan escaped you both as he fully seated himself, stretching you in the best, possible way, the way he always did.

Your hands gently slid down over his back, feeling the expanse of muscle, which twitched under your fingertips as he moved, slowly, deeply. He wasn't thrusting, he was rolling with each pass of his hips, carrying his weight above you as he loved on you. His lips were all about yours, dipping his tongue languidly between your lips. Soon, as your second orgasm flooded through you, he dropped to his forearms, his elbows now bearing his weight as his big, strong hands cradled your face, his fingers carding through your hair.

And he wasn’t done there. He was fully intending on taking you apart piece by piece, and soon enough, you could feel that heat in your belly again.

His kiss ran along your jaw and to your ear, "gimme one more, Sugar. Come on baby, just one more."

Your hands dug into the skin of his shoulder blades and he moved, grabbing your wrists and pulling them round so he could lace his fingers between yours. The feel of his wedding band against your skin as your fingers slid together had you moaning as he pinned your hands either side of your head. He picked up his pace slightly, eyes locked onto yours, and you felt yourself tightening around him for the third time.

"Oh my God," you keened, your body again pulling away from the mattress your hips rolling upward towards his, the small of your back arching away from the bed as your shoulders pressed against it.

"I gotta...." his voice was strained and you knew he was so very close.

"Yeah," you panted against his ear.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, his hips moving faster now, rutting into you with an air of needy, desperate desire as he chased his own ends.

His hands tightened around yours as he came, a pattern of a moan and an "oh fuck" falling from his pouty lips as he filled you, his warmth coating your insides as you felt each deep pulse of his cock.

He kissed you long and slow as he came down, his hips stuttering, his heavy breath against your skin from his nose. He then pressed his face into your neck, his breathing deep, chest heaving. After a few seconds you felt him place another soft kiss to your pulse point, before he pulled back slightly, releasing your hands as you flexed your fingers, knowing full well what you wanted. 

With a smile, your fingers threaded through his hair, scratching softly at the nape of his neck, moving over to his scar. His eyes closed, and the pair of you lay in silence, completely blissed out and relaxed, hearing only each other’s gradually steadying breaths, which mingled with the sounds of the waves lapping against the shore. 

***** Part 8

[lavendertales]

Wicked game (Javier Peña x f!reader)

Part 16 of Lay It On Me series

summary: during an undercover stakeout, you and Steve talk personal stuff, and when the topic inevitably lands on Javier, the night culminates with a surprising call.

word count: 4.5k

gif: @nickblaine​

series masterlist | AO3 | playlist

Cali was an entirely different story.

Barely three weeks into your mission to put an end to its cartel and you already felt helpless. The Cali cartel was much more resourceful and organized than the Medellin one, much more dangerous, and by that point, it was estimated that they were running about 80% of the cocaine market worldwide.

Which meant the stakes were higher than before, as was the pressure weighing down on you, Steve and Javier.

The rules were poles apart from what you used to know. Since the three of you were in charge of the operation alongside Colonel Hugo Martinez, Chris Feistl and Daniel Van Ness, you had to be utterly professional and shift your entire attention to the operation. Nothing could be left out, nothing could be done randomly. And, being the determined and stubborn person that you were, your number one priority was bringing down the cartel.

“There’s a party tonight,” Hugo announced loudly.

“So, are we all invited or not?” Chris joked.

Unimpressed, Hugo’s face remained impassible whilst looking at the rest of the team.

“We got word that the Rodriguez brothers will be there,” he continued. “And it is also rumored that Pacho Herrera will be there, meaning the big three. What we need is more intel. We cannot arrest them just yet.”

“Why the hell not?” Javier interfered. “We got everything we could need to get our hands on those bastards.”

“Because that’s how we do things here, Peña. With careful consideration. We don’t just throw ourselves head first into danger.”

Visibly displeased, Javier only grunted and kept his mouth shut, staring at the ground. Chris and Daniel, on the other hand, asked more questions, as opposed to how silent the three of you were.

“And because we want to keep things on the low and follow them tonight, figure out where they go into hiding, I’m gonna ask you two to go.”

You and Steve exchanged a somewhat worried look, but replied nothing.

“I’d like you two to go undercover at that party tonight. Simply observe them and follow them when they leave.”

“Why them?” Daniel asked, somewhat disappointed.

“Because they’re smarter than you give them credit for. And they know when to keep their mouths shut. Which is imperative for this particular mission.”

“Alright. I guess we’re partying tonight,” you said.

“Remember, blend in and keep your distance as much as you can.”

“Got it.”

“No interactions at all. We want them to feel like they are in control, as usual.”

“We can pretend we’re just out for some drinks,” Steve suggested.

“Good. You’ll act as if you’re on a date, in the background. No actual drinks. We don’t want anyone’s inhibitions or mental faculties to vanish.”

Both you and Steve chuckled while the team slowly spread out. Javier was the first to exit the conference room, rushing outside for a smoke. Ever since he left Medellin, he promised himself he’d cut the cigarettes, but it seemed that with all the stress and pressure, he needed something to cut the tension. And nicotine and alcohol were the only sources of coping he had left.

“I’ll pick you up at nine?” Steve asked you.

“Sure thing. I’ll give you my address.”

“Still can’t really get used to the surroundings. Feels kinda weird not living on the same floor with Javi.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

You haven’t sounded so harsh and cold in a long time, and you embraced it. You had big things to focus on and not even Javier Peña was going to stand in your way.

“Are you guys okay? You and—”

“We’ve got work to do. We’re in the middle of a war, Murphy. Let’s just do our jobs.”

Steve didn’t bother adding or asking anything else. He knew a refusal when he heard one, and he pushed  you no further, despite his instincts telling him that life at the office would be living hell now that you and Javier truly hated each other.

Steve drove you to the venue where the party was being held. When you arrived, a few minutes before ten, the party barely started. Everyone was dancing, talking, drinking and, by the looks of it, smoking heavily. You had to remind yourself that you were supposedly on a date, meant to sit in the back and observe.

“Here, let’s have a seat,” Steve guided you to a small table.

“We can’t talk in English. We have to blend in, and if they hear a couple of gringos here, we’ll stand out immediately.”

“Luego hablamos en español.”

Then we talk in Spanish.

You looked surprised at Steve, who only flashed a bright and proud smile in return.

“No está mal para un Americano, ¿eh?” he continued.

Not bad for an American, huh?

“No está nada mal. ¿Cuándo aprendiste a hablar tan bien?”

Not bad at all. When did you learn to speak such fluent Spanish?

“Todavía estoy aprendiendo.”

I am still learning.

“Tal vez quieras perder el típico acento americano.”

You might want to lose the typical American accent.

“¿Cómo?”

How?

“En inglés, se rueda la R. Pero en español, se pone énfasis en ella.”

In English, you roll your R. But in Spanish, you put emphasis on it.

Steve leaned in over the table and whispered, “Can you teach me how?”

You smiled. “Just hear me talk.”

“Then… talk to me.”

“Eres un gran hombre, Steve Murphy. Un gran amigo, un gran agente... también genial en la cama. Y espero que salgamos vivos de esto porque me gustaría mucho tenerte como amigo en mi vida. Necesito cosas buenas. Necesito buenos amigos como tú.”

You’re a really great man, Steve Murphy. A great friend, a great agent… great in bed, too. And I hope we make it out of this alive because I’d very much like to have you as a friend in my life. I need good things. I need good friends like you.

“What I got from that is that… I’m great—”

“Mhm.”

“And… you sound really good when you talk in Spanish—”

“Also true.”

“And that we’re friends.”

“Yes.”

“I’m confused, I thought this was a date.”

You giggled, and Steve followed suit. Each of you took a few sips from your beers and resumed staring at the crowd. As told, Gilberto and Miguel were there, dancing and making conversations with the other guests. You settled for listening to the music and simply examining every single person there. You looked at their clothes, the hairstyles, the jewelry, everything you could visualize in the dim, colorful lights.

“Hey, listen,” Steve said after a while, moving closer to you. “About what happened with you and me, and—and Javi…”

“Don’t make it weird, Murphy.”

“I wasn’t trying to, I just—“

“Then don’t talk about it. It happened. It was fun, it was great—“

“It was really great.”

You smiled, eager to finish the conversation and move way past it.

“It was… a one-time thing,” you finished. “We are all colleagues, and our main objective right now is to sit here, quietly, and keep tabs on the Rodriguez brothers.”

“Okay, fine. But from where I’m standing, things are far worse between you and him. It’s the worst it’s ever been. You’re not even talking to each other.”

“Why should we? We’re just colleagues.”

“I can see why he used to think he hated you. You really are stubborn like him.”

You frowned, taking another sip of the beer. Slowly, the desire to drown yourself in alcohol overawed you, but you fought it. You were on the job. You couldn’t afford any distractions.

“’Used to think’?” you repeated, incredulous.

“Yes, used to. I told you, you two are two peas in a pot. Same coin. Of course he would hate you, and vice versa. But now… you are just so fucking infuriating with all this ‘I don’t give a shit�� attitude. It’s worse than the ‘I hate you’ one. At least that one was sincere.”

“Murphy, don’t push it.”

“All of this could be solved with one conversation. You know that just as much as I do, and he knows that, too.”

“We’ve had the fucking conversation.”

“What?”

You managed to block out the sound, the laughter, all of it. All you could hear were the hysterics from your last conversation with Javier, over a month ago. His husky voice yelling at you how you controlled his every move, his every decision, his hands roaming around your waist, his lips at your neck, whispering how gorgeous you were, your legs around his waist, all of it tore you apart in millions of tiny pieces.

So you blocked it all out.

“We’ve had the conversation,” you repeated. “We agreed it is both of our interest to be colleagues, civil around each other—”

“Civil? You’re not even talking to each other.”

“It’s what’s best.”

“For whom?”

“For me! For both of us! He’s not the guy who commits, and I am not the girl who commits. All I’ve ever been great for are one night stands. And it’s been working flawlessly. I don’t want or need any attachment. Much less to the womanizer of Medellin. And I want to do what is best for me.”

“Denying yourself of the one thing that brings you joy isn’t what’s best.”

You stared furiously at him, finishing your beer and ordering another one right away. Of course you would feel displeased when somebody pointed out exactly what you were doing wrong because you did not need anyone else bringing you down. You did that plenty in your spare time.

But at the very least you did not lose sight of neither Gilberto nor Miguel, their figures still distinguishable in the crowd.

“Se supone que estamos hablando en español,” you reminded him.

“Baila conmigo.”

We’re supposed to be talking in English.

Dance with me.

You sighed, but succumbed nonetheless. Steve was taller than you, so the ratio of height whilst dancing with him was rather enjoyable. But it was also overwhelming to think of the hold he had over your waist as the phantom of Javier’s. It was cruel to him, though he may not have known it, and it was cruel to you, under an entirely different form.

It was simply excruciating. Every touch, regardless who its owner was, made you think of Javier. Every breath, every sound, you could trace it all back to him. So you forced yourself to shut down with alcohol.

“No eres malo,” you remarked amusedly.

You are not bad.

Not bad at all.

“I used to dance with Connie every now and then,” Steve smirked.

“Me doy cuenta. Tienes un buen ritmo.”

I can tell. You have a pretty good rhythm.

Very good, if I remember correctly.

“I miss her,” he sighed, staring off in the distance.

“I wish I could say it gets better in time, but time is a cruel mistress.”

“It sure fucking feels like that.”

“¿Por qué no la llamas?”

Why don’t you call her?

It’s easy for you to do. You’re the guy who says something and then does it.

“Porque… tengo—uh—miedo.”

Because I’m afraid.

“¿Por qué tienes miedo?”

Why are you afraid?

“I’m afraid of hearing her, of wanting to see her when she probably won’t want me.”

You remained silent for a little. The sentiment was cruelly close to your heart as well.

Because if I don’t look at you… then I don’t see the pain in your eyes. The disappointment, the anger or the beauty. Because that way… I don’t feel… things. And that way… my mind isn’t trying to memorize every detail of your face like it’s the last thing I’ll ever see.

Javier’s words were ingrained in your mind like a sharp knife, impossible to remove without causing significant damage. The speech ringed awfully like a goodbye, and once again, you understood  it. You reciprocated the sentiment regardless of how much you despised it.

“Estoy dispuesto a apostar que si cogieras el teléfono y la llamaras, te contestaría. Y te escuchará a pesar de todo.”

I am willing to bet that if you picked up the phone and called her, she’d answer. And she’ll hear you regardless.

Steve smiled fondly at you, spinning you around once before bringing you back to his chest. “Thanks.”

“You didn’t get that, did you?”

“I think I did. But I don’t—I don’t wanna think about that tonight.”

“Distraction it is then.”

You danced with Steve for longer than you had anticipated. You must’ve drank about five beers when you finally began to feel drunk, and when you finally sat back down at the table, your vision was somehow on high alert for Gilberto or Miguel.

And when you spotted both of them leaving around two a.m., you and Steve knew it was go time.

Steve drove slowly and steadily, with you dead silent in the passenger’s seat. You managed to calm yourself down and focus on the job again, which was liberating, but not enough.

It was pretty clear that both you and Steve had issues to fight through and you needed to find something to help you cope in all of that debilitating stress. Alcohol wouldn’t cut it, not when you were literally following the Cali cartel’s big bosses to their private headquarters and you needed to stay focused more than anything.

Steve pulled up at the end of a darkened street, at the end of which stood a very lavish villa. You failed to contain your surprise, although the scenery was exactly what you would’ve expected from someone who loved living in style.

“Jesus fucking Christ, they’re not even hiding this,” Steve breathed, examining the surroundings.

“Do you know where we are?”

“I memorized the road to this place. We gotta call Javi.”

You took the phone out of your bag and dial Javier’s number, numb to the flood of emotions that threatened to pass through you.

“Peña.”

“It’s me. We’re—”

“Can you give me Murphy?”

You rolled your eyes and made sure that he heard you sigh annoyingly before passing the phone to Steve.

“Have your precious Murphy,” you whispered under your breath, eyes on the road.

“What the hell was that?” he queried.

“Where are you?”

“Apparently, we’re at the Rodriguez hideout. At least that’s what they call it, but it’s a huge fucking villa, lots of security—”

Steve stopped, and you noticed why. Right before you, the garage door opened and you saw Gilberto, Miguel and Pacho, clear as the sun.

“What’s going on?” Javier cooed.

“We’ve got sight of the Rodriguez brothers. And Pacho.”

“You’re looking at them right now?”

“Right now.”

“Are you safe? Both of you?”

“Yeah, we’re—we’re fine, they can’t see us.”

“Okay, good.”

“Listen, Javi, we can get in there right now and bust them—”

“No, we can’t,” you said.

“You can’t,” Javier agreed.

“I’m buzzed, and we don’t have enough backup.”

“You don’t have any backup. It’s just the two of you, you can’t do it.”

You exchanged a concerned look with Steve, mentally debating for longer than you cared to admit or even want, but you both agreed Javier was right. It was a suicide mission, and you weren’t really on your best behavior.

“Fine,” you cooed.

“Give me Y/N on the phone.”

Steve passed you the phone and you resentfully took it, placing it to your ear. “He knows words,” you said mockingly, wanting to pinch and sting him however you could.

“You have to get out of there. You’ll tell us the address and we’re gonna check it out tomorrow, but you can’t go in there, drunk, no less—”

“I am not drunk, you moron. I’ve had a couple of beers.”

“So that’s about, what, five?”

And then you got mad.

“Do not talk to me like if you know me better than I know myself, Peña. If you’re resorting to hating me and not talking to me, then do that.”

“Just get out of there. Martinez gave clear instructions and we would prefer to have you both alive.”

“Doesn’t sound like it coming from you.”

You only heard Javier’s ragged breath on the other line and you hung up, fuming. It felt like you had been transported back a year, when all you and Javier could do was snap at each other on the smallest grounds you could find and tear each other apart verbally.

Only this time around, the anger vanished within minutes and it was replaced by sorrow.

Unwilling to dive into the topic but very eager to have another drink, stronger, you gestured to Steve to drive you home, and he obeyed. That was the great and refreshing thing about your dynamic with Steve: he was kind and straightforward, and you could share a laugh—or a sweaty night together with another, apparently—without the fear of what tomorrow would bring to you. Javier, on the other hand, could be easily categorized as being too straightforward at times; and at other times, so quiet that it was nearly out of character. You thought you had become acquainted with him and you truly felt like whatever he felt, you did, but lately, he sent too many mixed messages, too many parallels to however it was that he might’ve been feeling like.

And you were tired of trying to guess and wonder.

When you invited Steve upstairs, he instantly accepted. He seemed deep in thought as well, but perhaps for reasons that were entirely different than yours. Neither one of you said much when you poured whiskey in two glasses, chugging it down with each passing minute and finally entertaining yourselves after yet another long day.

“I tell you what,” Steve giggled, cheeks reddened and words slightly slurred. “I call Connie, like you said—”

“Mhm—”

“And you call Javier.”

You burst out laughing even though that hadn’t been your intention. You wanted to stare disapprovingly, to mock him and to openly bash Javier, but instead, you sat on the floor, legs crossed and alcohol running in your bloodstream like an angry river.

“Right now?” you asked.

“Right now.”

“Oh, Steven… don’t you know drunk calls are terrible?”

“Not when it comes to Javier motherfuckin’ Peña.”

You nodded, toasting with Steve for whatever reason. There needn’t be one, though; it was just about lowering your inhibitions and your walls for a little while with a friend.

“Why are you both so fucking stubborn?”

“I get it from my mom. She, uh—once she was set on something, she went through with it. She didn’t use to care.”

“Is—is she—?”

“Dead? No. I just haven’t spoken much to her since I was sixteen.”

Steve frowned, understanding in his drunkenness that you had reached a sensitive topic that you never willingly shared before. He straightened his position as if to listen to you better and patiently waited for an explanation of any sort.

“She kicked me out of the house when I was sixteen,” you said, gaze fixed somewhere in front of you, staring at nothing and yet seeing everything from that one painful moment you just mentioned. “I told her and my father that… I like boys… and girls as well. I told them I like both. I told them I like… people. Actually I hate people, but—but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“She said she’s not gonna raise a mentally ill child, a broken one. Next time I heard from her was when she called to tell me my father died in a motorcycle crash. And then… a few months later to tell me that my uncle was dead, too. And nothing since then. Over ten years.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ… I’m—I am so sorry.”

You shrugged and poured yourself more whiskey. “It’s in the past.”

There was much more Steve would’ve liked to add, to say, yet he couldn’t find the proper words. Everything he planned thoroughly in his mind would’ve came stupid at that time, so he dropped it and indulged you in drinking more. He nearly gasped when he saw you take out the phone and dial.

“What are you doing?” he asked, half dying of curiosity and half concerned.

“Calling Peña like you told me to. If this gets you to talk to Connie, then so be it.”

“Wait, I didn’t think you’d really—”

“Peña.”

“Oh, you sound grumpy. What’s the matter?”

Javier, on the other line, was entirely stunned. He recognized your drunken voice, but he made nothing of it. He was still awake at that ungodly hour and truth be told, he was uncertain whether you were just entertaining yourself or if there was something wrong.

“Having fun from what I hear,” he remarked.

It was hurting him, distressing him in ways it really shouldn’t have. Just the sound of your voice was awakening something in him that he couldn’t recall ever feeling.

“The stakeout is over. Now it’s just a lot of drinking.”

Javier huffed, getting out of bed. He rubbed his forehead and temples, very tempted to get into the car and drive all the way to you. But he didn’t. He faltered, he questioned himself—and you, subsequently—and chose to sit there dumbfounded, phone in hand.

“Did you need anything or—why the hell did you call?”

His words stung and they come out much harsher than he wanted, but he couldn’t take it back. Not with you. You’d see right through his crap and call him out on it without hesitation and relentlessly.

“Steve kind of needs me to do this.”

“He needs you to call me at… two in the morning?”

“Kind of. He said that if I call you now to talk, then he’ll call Connie. Long story.”

“Okay, then… why did you call me?”

“To talk.”

“I can come over.”

This time, you hesitated. Next to you, Steve was listening to every word of what you and he exchanged, but you paid him no attention. You focused on your breaths instead and thought about every single word that you wanted to get out.

“No,” you replied, slightly taken aback by your own boldness in that state. “Because that would require… eye contact, and… we don’t do that, right?”

Javier gulped.

And you heard it.

“I want to,” he admitted, managing to shock even Steve. “I really want to. But—“

But.

“It’s too complicated.”

“Like hell it is!” Steve whispered angrily and you immediately slapped him over his arm.

“It’s really not. We make it complicated because we don’t wanna risk it all in this war. We don’t wanna have something dear to hold onto that can be easily taken away by those fucking narco traficantes. I feel you. I—”

“I know you do.”

You were left without a smart reply and breaths. All air was confined into one painful spot in your throat, not ventilating properly to your lungs, and you forced yourself to clear your throat in hopes of clearance.

“But I do give a shit about you, Javier,” you admitted as well. “You think this is easy for me, saying these things? It’s not. It’s really fucking not. And… part of me is glad you didn’t look at me for months because… I stared enough for the both of us.”

Javier groans your name, the sound a painful reminder of the good times you’ve shared thinking they meant nothing more but stress relief. 

“There’s no point in this call, really. We agreed it’s best to drop the whole thing and—”

“Fuck, I—listen, I—I want to try and make things right and be the kind of person you want to… I don’t fucking know, spend time with, if we have it…”

“Then do something about it!” Steve yelled.

Silence.

On the other line, Javier froze. He realized that you were still with Steve, and he thought back to the entire stakeout, how it must’ve went, how the two of you had to play pretend for hours on end and share drinks and laughter—

And he ached again.

But he knew Steve was not terrible like he is. He knew that if there was any man that would treat you right, it would be him.

So he let it happen. He let those intrusive thoughts slide out of his mind and focused on the job instead.

The job comes first, he said once under your hesitant approval. And this made no exception.

“Don’t call me next time at this fucking hour unless there’s a good reason,” he said and hung up.

He knew he was no good and that he was acting like an asshole. But how else was he supposed to function in that war and with you by his side every single day?

Steve tried to catch your attention, but you cut him off immediately.

“I knew this would happen. Every single fucking time we try to talk… either he loses his shit or I lose mine and we end up fighting. This wasn’t any different. And neither of us will change.”

“You two are the most infuriating people I have ever fucking met. I hate you both.”

You kept on drinking, amusement fading from your system. What the hell were you thinking? Calling Javier Peña in the middle of the night without the prospect of it being a booty call was a lost cause.

“You two boneheads are crazy about each other and in your stupid process of ignoring each other you hurt everyone around you, including yourselves,” he said, taking the almost empty bottle of whiskey from you.

“What do you want me to do?! I have tried and tried and, yes, I am—I might just be crazy for this shitty ass man who won’t even say it in return when it’s clear that this is—this is more for him to. We both… fuck, we both know it’s something more, but this fucking… fear, Steve, it’s—it’s crippling.”

“Well, cut it out already. You’re bumming us all out.”

“Yeah, cause being in love with Javier Peña is an easy task. Like you can just—”

And it clicked.

You stared at Steve with a panicked look on your face like you’d just seen the devil himself. You felt shocked, terrified and eased, all at once. The last time you had even thought about the L word was over a decade ago and truthfully, you didn’t believe you would ever say it again. At least not in that context or not to that degree.

But it was true. It was maddeningly true. It had to be.

You were madly in love with him, in spite of everything, and there was no way around it. The second that word slipped out of your mouth, rolling down your tongue and through your vocal chords, you felt it, too. You felt its meaning, its implications and its overwhelming effect on you.

All because of a goddamn office hookup.

previous | next

[callmehopeless]

I don't know if you're still doing the drabbles but if you are, could you do 96 or 35 for nines?(PS I love all of your fics)

35: “You make me feel safe.”

(Super cute choices for Nines. Went with this one because I feel like it’s something he’d be very responsive to)

Part of my 1000 Follower Fun drabbles set

“So, Nines: what d’you miss?”Nines picked up a small chunk of concrete, throwing it off the rooftop and into the night. His legs dangled over the precipice, bringing back primal feelings of self-preservation.The fall wouldn’t kill him. Might fuck him up, though.“About what? Life’s been kinda long for me” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.She tapped her fingers on the ledge, looking out at the city lights.“You know…being alive. Got anything you miss about not being dead?” she asked.Nines chuckled, tipping his head to the side.“Kid, I’ve been around for about a century. If I miss anything, I can’t really remember it now” he muttered. That wasn’t technically true; but he could see where this was going. All feelings and reminiscing. Being alive, being dead: it was all the same for him. Just people treading on people, with no dignity in between.

“I miss…hot cappuccinos. They did little logos on the foam sometimes” she sighed, her incisors digging into the red flesh of her lip “chocolate”.“What the hell is a…capu…what the fuck is that?” he said.She laughed, and he suddenly felt older than he had in a while.“It’s coffee. With foam and chocolate. How the hell do you not know what a cappuccino is?”Nines scoffed, wiping his hands on his jeans.“Sorry that I don’t get a lot of opportunity to go to trendy diners while I’m both dead and in the ass end of L.A.” he muttered, and that made her laugh even more.The moonlight glinted in her eyes, mischief shining in the silver of her iris. He couldn’t help but admire her spirit. There was youth there; but wisdom, too. Bravery. Safety.“Come on, Nines. Give me something”.He scratched his stubble, biting his lip.“Alright. See, my mom back in Oklahoma used to make these corn fritters - damn, those things were weird. She’d put weird shit on them like jam and cream, and we’d always eat them out of boredom. Just snacking to pass the time” he breathed “when I was first turned, I kept thinking ‘bout those weird corn fritters. Like the last bit of my mom was still in my head”.

The fledgeling said nothing, a slight smile creeping onto her face.“Don’t say it” he growled.“See? Was that so hard?” she laughed, nudging him with her shoulder.He sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand.“Why ask me all this weird stuff?” he asked, breathing in the night air.“I want to be real with someone, and you make me feel safe” she said, the night breeze blowing her hair around her face.

Nines said nothing; he just looked out at the cityscape, the world sleeping in their beds.“Me too, kid” he finally responded “me too”.

[all-of-the-imagines-for-eve]

Awkward ~ Embry Call

A/n: I love this one, it makes imprinting feel so natural aw :’) Unfortunately because there's so much information already given to this character I decided to just make her an OC. Too much I had to apply to her to make this an x reader :/

Additionally: Should I make a part two? If it's not requested I won't do it but I could if y'all really wanted me to. Okay peace out ✌🏼

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: Angst. A lot of angst. Some fluff too :) You know the regular stuff.

Faceclaim: Michelle Rodriguez

MASTERLIST

As long as Embry Call and Quil Ateara had been friends, Quil's sister Nina and Embry had been an interesting pair. Quil thought his sister endlessly annoying and often attempted to exclude her from anything and everything they did together. The problem was, she was stubborn and often liked to do things just to because she was told not to- especially if it meant annoying her brother. They were twins, similar in looks and family but also in personality. The Ateara twins were both loud mouthed and goofy and playfully aggressive- they'd been rough housing and arm wrestling and shoving and tripping each other so often for so long that even before they were wolves everyone used to joke they were like playful pups rolling around in the dirt. Embry got along with both of them and Quil hated it.

People always joked that Nina and Embry would grow up and get married but neither had even considered it in a serious way. Not even dating or kissing or even crushing on each other. The two just clicked, friendly and familiar right off the bat. When Quil was absent at school, in a bad mood, sick, or otherwise busy, Embry spent the time with Nina. The one time they'd both been unavailable had been such a sucky, boring day that Embry was glad he had Nina as a back up for Quil's off days.

There were little moments, though. Tiny things that threw them off of the casual friendship they both secretly held so dear.

One example was when they were thirteen. Nina had been asked to a dance so she'd gotten all dolled up and waited outside her house for the boy's mom to pick him up. Except he never came. Quil finally came outside and told her to come in. It was Embry who had been able to convince her though. The boys paused their hang out that night to cheer her up, Em and Nina cuddling on the couch as Quil was unavailable while he made snacks and picked the perfect movie. When it was time for bed Nina had fallen asleep so Embry decided ti just sleep with her since she was on top of him and Quil shrugged and walked away.

Another example, when they were ten, was when Embry was riding his bike and hit a rock, scraping the crap out his knees and hands. Quil complained loudly while Nina jumped into action immediately, smoothing Embry's hair out if his face to make sure he was okay, kissing him on the cheek like her mom did to her when she needed comfort. Embry found jumself blushing at the contact, not sure if the reaction was from her kiss or the adrenaline rushing through his system. She then proceeded to patch him up with the home made first aid kid she had packed in her backpack when they had headed off. She let him grab her arm as she cleaned out the scraped, shooting him apologetic, soft expressions every time he hissed when it stung a little too much. She had been so gentle and caring and attentive that even at such a young age, he watched her for a few seconds after she finished. She was so familiar and comforting... That held up years after.

When they were fourteen, Embry's girlfriend broke up with him because she was moving and they didn't want to date over s long distance. Embry had been distraught and only Nina had been able to calm him down and bring him comfort. She was with him every step of the way as he came to terms with losing her and moving on. It was easier than he had expected it to be with Nina around. With Nina's smile, that reminded him of sunlight, and Nina's laugh that sounded like home.

When they turned sixteen Embry had pretended to be Nina's boyfriend to make an annoying boy with a huge crush on Nina go away. It had almost been too easy but when the boy left, deterred, and Quil had spent the rest of the day groaning and whining about how weird and gross it was and how they'd ruined his birthday (he'd mostly been joking- he just thought the idea of his best friend and his sister dating was majorly weird), they'd brushed off the sparks and tingles and the thread that seemed to pull them towards each other again and again.

Later that year though, Embry would get sick. Nina would be by his side, mothering him just like she always was. His mom didn't need the help but she let Nina in every day after school anyway because despite what the two kids believed, there were some things moms knew that kids didn't and this was one of those things. Nina and Ms. Call would make him soup and the trio would watch movies, often joined by Quil as well. Quil came less and less though, slowly coming ti terms with the same realization that Embry's mom had had. Nina would bring Embry his homework and they did it together. Nine would play with his hair to make his headaches go away and take his temperature and far too often have to change the wet rags she gave him to put on his skin to try and cool down his ridiculous temperature. He always refused to go to the hospital and Nina and his mom didn't force it because any doctor would he as boggled by the numbers as they were. Despite the heaviness of feeling so helpless, Nina was there every step of the way...

Until she wasn't anymore.

Embry played no games. First it was his mom telling her she couldn't come in. Sam Uley had come over the night before and now he had come back and Embry and him had been out all day. He was better but Sam had been very strict about him having no visitors until they were sure. After a few days of Embry going completely AWOL even with Quil and Jake - no calls or visits or letters or texts; NOTHING - Quil went over. He came back saying that Embry didn't want to hang out with them anymore.

"He looked me right in the eyes and said he didn't want to be friends anymore." He looked at Jake and Nina. "With any of us." After extensive questioning from the other two he finally admitted, "He was different. He'd cut his hair off, super short, and he was taller. Like way taller. I don't know it looked like'd he'd been working out- and- and he had some sort of tattoo..."

The trio was silent for a second but they all knew what had happened. It had happened before. "Sam," Jake seethed. That was the only clarification anyone needed.

And so there was three.

Working together they managed to eradicate Embry from their memories, banding together to close their wounds with force and put on smiles and keep going with the same ease their ex friend seemed to be using. They were doing very well, even when things got more serious between Jake and Bella. They became a quad again, Bella slipping into Embry's place even if she didn't even begin to fill it the same way.

Then Jake got sick.

He seemed the same kind of sick Embry had been but they all brushed it off and Nina showed up to take care of him, Quil accompanying him this time. Jake swore again and again that it wasn't like what it had been with Embry. He wasn't going anywhere near Sam Uley and his gang. Ever. Just as they were assured, Sam paid Jake a visit. First no visits, then no calls. Then dodging and lying and avoiding until Nina pulled Quil to her one day, needing his comfort. Suddenly Bella was gone too and it went from four to three to four again, straight down to two. The twins were distraught for weeks, but they always took comfort in each other.

And then Quil got sick.

Nina was silent as death as she took care of him. They exchanged no words about it ever, not trying to make jokes as the very real fear sat forever present in the house. It was the exact same sickness Jake and Embry had both had. The fever was unmistakable.

When Sam Uley came to visit, Nina refused to let him in. "Nina you need to let me in."

"NO!"

A sigh. "Nina please, there are things you don't unders-"

The door flew open and Sam stepped back, startled by the fire and ice swirling in her eyes as she experienced wrath and agony at the same time. "You've taken EVERYONE FROM ME!" Her face was so twisted that Sam didn't even try to stop her, knowing she needed to get it out. "You took E-" She still couldn't say his name. She whimpered, blinking and then skipping the rest of te letters. Sam's face softened, only sorrow manifesting. "You took Jake, and Bella. You can't take Quil from me! HE'S ALL I HAVE! I WON'T LET YOU!" He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. She blinked and her tears began falling. "Please," she croaked, her voice hoarse and weak and cracking with emotion. "Please don't take him away too."

Sam was truly regretful. "I'm sorry Nina. It's not something I can control." And then he brushed past her into the house and while she waited outside, frozen and terrified as there was conversation inside that she could not hear. Her mother was at work so she was alone when Sam returned outside after a long time to see her in the exact place and position he had left her. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"I'm sure you will," Nina seethed. Sam sighed before leaving.

Nine was gone when he came the next day and she avoided Quil for a while, eyes still hopeful even though she was terrified to see him and know for sure. When she ran into him as she was headed in and he was headed out, she froze. They locked eyes and she took in his sheered hair and exposed torso. He was taller and leaner, more muscular. He had a tattoo ok his shoulder and her eyes watered. "Nina-" he began. She pushed passed him into the house, desperate to avoid whatever he had to say to her in excuse or reason or apology.

And so she was alone.

She stayed alone for a long time. She watched her brother and friends get along just fine without her, bonding with Jared Cameron and Paul Uley, forever under Sam's rule. She saw them at school and at parties and at the beach. It was too painful so she started to avoid them. If she wasn't hidden in the confines of her house she was hiking or sitting on the beach. She had taken drawing up as a hobby and though she wasn't great at it at first she picked it up pretty well. She became quiet, wearing grey and black hoodies to blend into the background. Quiet and invisible. The boys wouldn't admit it but they could always see her and every time their gazes landed on her, they each grew silent and somber.

Nina was quiet and lonely and a cliche edgy art kid now, but her grades kept up. It kept her busy while she drifted through an otherwise empty schedule. She couldn't go to parties and she didn't have friends so she turned to homework to eat up her time. For a long time it was like that.

Then Victoria made the newborns.

Nina missed a day of school due to a fever. And then another. She got suspended after getting in a fight with a kid in the hallway who had pushed her a little too far and the entire week she was gone she spent attached to her bed. She wasn't sick really. She was angry and incredibly hot- like her blood had turned to fire. Her mom was worried about it and when Quil asked what was going on and she told him, he recognized the symptoms and went to Sam immediately, filled with hope. Just like he always did, Sam went to the Ateara house one night to visit Nina. This visit didn't go anything like his other ones had, though.

He came to her house to see her outside, in a tank too and shorts, her hair tied in a bun as she closed her eyes, feeling the cool night on her skin as she tried to cool down. Sam sighed, approaching her. He didn't get a single word in before she sneered, "Leave."

Sam rose an eyebrow. "Nina-"

Her eyes flew open. "No." Her voice was so hard and cold that the Alpha felt threatened. He could see the aggression and the heat in her and he wanted to help. But she had known she was coming and she blatantly refused. "NO." She moved from her post on the balcony to right in front of him and he solidified his stance to seem bigger, stronger. But she had grown taller too, stronger. And she wasn't backing down. "You-" she began. Her breath came harsher, faster, and she blinked as her vision flickered oddly, the coloring different than she had ever seen the world before. "You have taken everyone," she began again, softer as she trued to compose herself. "You don't het me. You don't get to steal from me and shut me out and hurt me and then add me to your ranks." She blinked as her chest constricted and Sam reached out for her. The second his hand brushed against her skin she growled. Growled. But she was suddenly far too angry to care about that. "NO! You! YOU! You and Quil and Jacob and- and-" Her face hardened. "And Embry. You are not my family anymore! You don't get the right to worry or care about me! ANY OF YOU!" she screamed, the words garbling into something that sounded like snarls and growls more than actual human speech.

Suddenly there were people running to Sam's aid from the woods as Nina shoved him, wanting to start a fight Sam refused to engage in. Nina hunched over, eyeing the new threats. She was beginning to become more a caged animal than anything. Sam held up a hand. "Everyone back and calm down!"

That almost worked. "GOD!" Nina barked. "You follow his every word don't you? You little puppy dogs."

Paul stepped forward. "You don't know anything about us."

Nina's face twisted even more. "YOU don't know anything about ME." Her voice was low and dangerous.

Her eyes leveled on Sam and she took a step forward only to immediately be intercepted by someone. Quil. He pushed her back and began, "Nina no!" But then push set her off and she was suddenly coiling and twisting, her anger exploding as her skin itself seemed to lose purchase and slip and slide and stretch, her bones morphing into a new form. She hunched forward, her hands hitting the ground as- as paws.

Her confusion and hurt and anger changed from her new form to Sam again. She was blinded by hate and pain and all she could think was that she wanted nothing more than to tear Sam Uley to shreds. The boys turned and Nina growled as she faced down the five wolves. She would take all of them, looking them straight in the eye to communicate her vehement hatred without using the words that escaped her outside of her human form. Then her eyes met a familiar pair.

Somehow she knew it was Embry.

The world, already discolored and different, shifted and they both froze, eyes widening. There was suddenly a chord between them that tied them together, thick and undeniable. Impossible to ignore and hard to resist as it shortened, demanding them to be pulled closer.

Hearing Embry's thoughts and seeing Nina's shift, the other wolves backing off to give the two some room. Embry stumbled forward as if he was pushed but Nina collapsed in the spot she was in, her different eyes closing tightly as she hung her head. He was immediately by her side, nudging her and whining to make sure sue was okay.

Nina? Nina what's going on in that brain of yours. Please let me hear you Nina.

Hearing his voice after so long was terrible and wonderful at such intense levels that she recoiled from him. On top of that, hearing it in her head? Hearing it like she was peeking into his thoughts?

She couldn't handle it. She stood up on all fours and stumbled away from him. Her eyes were wide and her thoughts were scrambled and loud and chaotic, becoming even worse as they realized she could hear them now that she was initiated into the pack when she'd imprinted on Embry, even if she had resisted it at first. It was too much for her though and she howled, the others cringing away from her as her thoughts became hysterical bloody murder screams. She turned and ran.

After they got over the stunned shock they ran after her, causing her to run faster.

Nina stop!

Slow down!

Wait!

LEAVE ME ALONE!

They pulled back and left her alone as she asked. The further she got from them, the more it hurt her and Embry both.

She ran all night, only showing up back at the house in the morning, still in wolf form. Quil came our of their house with a folded up outfit in his hands. He offered them to her awkwardly, unsure where to go from there. She looked between him and the pile before he sighed, jogging towards the woods. She followed him, not looking over as she padded along his side. He lead her a ways in before setting the pile on the ground and then turning around and jogging back to the house. They didn't need to speak for her to know the plan he had in mind. She shifted back to human - something she'd had to work on for quite a while the previous night - and then got dressed, joining Quil back at the house. She still didn't look at him, going to pass him. He caught her arm and she went stiff. "Let. Go of me."

Quil did as she asked, deflating. "Nina-"

"No," she snapped.

Her brother watched her continue, attempting to go inside. "Sam's holding a meeting tonight. You're part of the pack. We have answers and I'm sure you have questions. Please, come?" She paused at the door. "We can be together again. You, me, Jake. Embry." She flinched at the last name as if Quil had burned her. He frowned, seeing his sister so upset. He had always been able to help her when she was upset. But she had never been this messed up and she had never shut him out so aggressively. "Please," Quil begged, his voice only a whisper.

Nina didn't look at him. "The length of my hair. Is that why you guys keep it short?" After a second, Quil hummed in confirmation. She went inside without another word and Quil sat in the steps, closing his eyes and lacing his fingers into his hair in frustration. She came out again a few minutes later but she only brushed past him, ignoring him despite him shooting to his feet and reaching out to her.

Hurt and worried and completely unsure of what to do next, Quil just headed to Sam's.

Night came and hours passed with no sign of Nina. Just as they were about to call it a loss, they all tensed as a familiar smell hit their noses. Quil and Embry were scrambling to the front door before Nina even got close enough to knock. They were surprised by the state she was in.

She seemed firmer, her eyes dark and hard and her hair cut short like Leah's, maybe a little shorter- where Leah had first cut it, maybe. She had worn it very long since the beginning of time, whining and complaining every second of even the monthly trim her mom took her to. She HATED to have her hair cut. She hated having it shorter than to her waist, loving to brush it and do it in all kinds of fun hairdo's. Now it was too short to do anything with.

She brushed past the two boys without acknowledging them except when she paused a split second when Embry's fingers brushed her arm. It was obvious she wanted to cave in and have him touch her again but she swallowed it, forcing herself to keep walking and hardening her expression. Embry and Quil followed after her. She stopped in the middle of the room, across from Sam. The two boys continued past her to Sam's side, Embry taking another chance to touch her arm as if it had been on accident. They both knew it wasn't. Sam faced her. "Quil said you had answers."

Sam nodded. "What do you know?"

"The legends are true," she stated simply. "We're shape shifters. Werewolves. Skin walkers- whatever. The Cold Ones...?"

"Vampires," Sam supplied.

Nina nodded, her face not changing. She was unreadable and even Jacob was struggling with how different she was than how he knew her to be. "Vampires and werewolves," she mused quietly. Sam nodded. "Why did I... change?"

"When more of them come, more of us awaken to combat them." When she didn't speak again, he continued. "Bella Swan. The Cullens are vampires." Nina nodded. "Newborns, new vampires, are hunting Bella down. We're not sure why yet. Bella has a thing with Edward Cullen so we're working with them to protect her." Nina rose an eyebrow but she didn't have to voice her confusion for Sam to add, "The Cullens don't eat people. As long as they feed off if animals as they promised, we don't come for them. We have a treaty."

Nina nodded again, pausing. "Am I still mortal?"

Sam softened a little as her voice became less cold. "Yes. We're still susceptible to injury and death, though we do heal VERY quickly. We can't undo what's been done and as long as you continuously shift, you don't age. If you stop shifting then you can become normal, aging and everything."

That seemed to make Nina relax a little. "And it's a choice to change? No full moon chaos?" Sam nodded. Nina's eyes shifted to Embry and her stony expression gave way to fear. "What happened?"

She hadn't meant to say it out loud but now that she had, she looked back at Sam, vulnerable. He didn't have to ask what she meant. "You imprinted on each other," he told her. She seemed confused. "It's when we find our.... other half. Soulmate is the best word we've found so far. You find someone that completes you in some way and you strive to give them anything and everything they need. A brother, a friend, a protector-"

"A lover?" Nina asked. It had slipped again and Quil coughed. She blushed.

Despite himself, Sam smiled. "A lover," he confirmed.

There was a pause as Nina looked away. She nodded once more and then turned toward the door to leave. "WAIT!" Embry called. She stopped. "Stay? Please?" She didn't respond. "I know... I know we have a lot to work out. But- please? I can't lose you again. Please."

She turned to face him, her eyes sad. "You left."

"I didn't have a choice," Embry agonized. "You can ask anyone, I've been miserable. I was so excited when we found out- maybe even more so than Quil, who was torn because he didn't want you to be like us. But I knew, I knew you'd be the most badass wolf and I've been dying to see you again." He took a step closer to her, his hands reaching for hers. She watched his fingers, now facing him even if she didn't move past that. "I wanted it to be you," he whispered. "And it is. It was always you. Please stay." Their eyes met and Nina actually managed a smile.

A sudden loud, obnoxious groan came from someone. Everyone looked over to see Quil pretending to gag. "GREAT!" he complained. "They imprinted on each other. Now I'll have to deal with the sappy thoughts while we're wolfed out. And the kissing." He rolled his eyes, his nose scrunching up.

The mood shifted instantly, Jake shoving Quil joking. "You're just jealous."

"Am not!" Quil argued. "I'm disgusted- big difference."

Nina moved to Embry's side, taking his hand shyly. They both smiled, finally standing in peace as they were finally reunited. Everyone knew where life would lead for the two, even if they didn't know the little details. Even fate knew that they were destined to fall in love. It felt so right that for a second, the time alone faded away and nothing mattered- not pain or regret or vampires or fear or danger or the chaos and danger facing. Not even Quil's loud, annoying complaints and jabs and fake gags.

Even if it would make things a little awkward...

-

FTL: @chipster-21 @bitchyseawitch @alexa-playafricabytoto @wolfgirlxslytherin @justanotherdaydreamersoul